Morning! In great news, I’ve bought some absolutely banging new boots. I feel like I’ve found the Holy Grail, or the mysterious cities of gold. What a time to be alive.
I’ve mentioned the travails of buying proper long boots before. Well. By “mentioned” I mean “monologued at length until everyone has wished I’d just die, or move somewhere where boots are not a going concern.” My list of requirements is along the lines of Liam Neeson skills in Taken: they are very specific, and quite frightening.
I like them to come right up to my knees, which usually means buying over the knee boots due to having the giant legs of a tall person with a normal-sized body. I also like them to fit the leg really snugly, especially around the ankle. I cannot bear a baggy ankle (that’s what she said, wahey!) and many long boots seem to have enough spare leather to knit yourself a handbag. As my mum once memorably told me, I have Granny Balme’s ankles: she was a good woman whose ankles were made for walking and missionary work rather than sitting around making men faint, so it’s not as if mine are particularly delicate. And yet.
My previous, and most cherished pair of long boots came from DUO, who go up to a size 10 and who have just reopened after the most sensational rebrand as Ted and Muffy (oh you know Ted and Muffy, they were in Tatler the other week dressed as lobsters at the Countess of Chichester’s showjumping party). Check out the website: beautiful pictures, even if the prices have jumped from a bit scary to quite terrifying. DUO/Ted and Muffy are still very much worth a look, not least because you can choose the calf measurement of your boot, and there are three foot widths. Perfect if you’ve got unusual proportions, or are insanely fussy. My DUO boots would still be alive if I hadn’t been exceedingly dim and worn enormous insoles in them which ruined the lining beyond repair. After several winters of wearing them anyway, and getting wet feet, they went in the bin last week.
However, despite mourning the loss of my beloved perfect height boots, I wasn’t in the market for spending £££. I wanted to spend ££. Ideally £. And luckily, I found my perfect boots for £90, and then got 25 per cent off thanks to the code on my catalogue *pushes glasses up nose, reaches for elderly woollen shawl*
They’re the Jocasta, and they’re 38″ around the calf which suits me perfectly. They stretch, so if you’re any larger, that’s no bother. They fit like magical burglar boot leggings and I bloody love them.
I also tried on, and loved, the Star, which also come in burgundy brown are proper leather (Jocasta ain’t) and so are £150. Reader, I pranced around like a bloody pony. To have one pair of boots fit is a treat. To have two is a month of Sundays! The calf width on the Star is 40cm, but they still fit well, and the baggy ankle of doom, while not as snug as on my ancient DUOs, was not noticeable. But the Jocasta felt made for me, not least because I swear there’s a ghastly Jilly Cooper child with that name. Both boots start at a size 7 and got up to a 13 which is bloody sensational. Good work LTS.
(In non boot-related news, I also grabbed two of their black roll neck jerseys for £30 and these disgustingly gorgeous geo print trousers. 25 per cent off FTW. Join the elderly people and get yourself a catalogue.)