What's Up Doc?

What does one do when they are facing bankruptcy and battling with HSBC phones and staff daily? Why they go shopping of course! I really do need to be stopped.
It was entirely impossible to resist my latest purchase, a pair of Dr. Marten style boots from my high street favourite French Connection.

I have always liked the idea of Dr Marten’s. In fact I once bought a pair from Ebay when I was 15 and trying to be a punk- thankfully the only thing that survived that phase is a Rancid song or two on the Ipod. The trouble is the idea of Dr. Marten’s in my head did not match up to the look of me actually in them.

I love the recent ad campaigns featuring Daisy Lowe; that is the way that I would like to wear them. On her long skinny legs they look like a cool ironic shout of masculinity, ‘I-am-a-pretty-girl-with-contrastingly-heavy-clodhoppers-on-my-delicate-feet’, that sort of thing.







The trouble is, I do not have legs like Daisy Lowe, there is a small problem with my legs called flesh. So whilst she is coyly lounging in a garden looking cute, I was tramping around town looking like a lesbian.

These French Connection boots are a little slimmer on the foot with a subtler gummy heel. As they are cut a little higher with eyelets for super lacing, I feel that they are far more feminine than tradition Doc’s. At least I hope so. I took the precaution of wearing them with pink tights to enforce to the public that I am not a man. Surprisingly it was the tights themselves that drew a comment from a commoner. A grotty man shouted at me,
‘I like your pink tights’ in a high pitched girlie mocking accent. I don’t understand logic in this but I gathered that he did not in fact like my pink tights.

So I gave him my best ‘withering look’ and evil eye squint and marched on in my girls boots.