I can’t remember what year it was, but I know that it was after my attempted dreadlock, nose ring, can’t-survive-without-a-pack-of-Camel-Lights phase. It was perhaps during my quarter –life crisis, I have a little money (but not much), engaged, but still not ‘acting my age’ phase.
That’s when I spotted them: Doc Marten Mary Janes. $39.99. Not available in my size. It didn’t matter. They had to be mine.
Was it the chunk that I loved so dearly? These two lovers were so unique and ‘girly’, in the coolest way possible. Was I so thrilled to see that A: they had resurfaced or B: they had never left? Was it that the small yellow stitching of the chunky rubber sole pierced my inner soul and catapulted me back to 1994? A time where my world revolved around Friday night football games and the love of my friends?
We all have these items, scents, places. These are the ‘things’ that have an eerie way of taking us someplace else, someplace in our past without moving a muscle. These are the things that have helped to add to our story. These Mary Janes were more than just a shoe. They were an opportunity. They were a God given chance to stick it to Generation Z and remind the world that Lilith Fair and Clove smokes are wonderful. To share through a long black skirt, a beater, and these gems on my feet that while the Internet and I-phones are certainly a huge advance, there is something grand about hanging out in a garage, listening to music without a soap-shaped device in your jean pocket dinging and vibrating your butt at a rapid rate. There is a wonderment of not having every single thing that you do–good or bad–documented, recorded, and eventually shared.
These ‘docs’ were that. They were my Friday night shoe. The shoe I would wear to do…well…whatever the car picking me up was doing. Even if they didn’t fit.
I wore these memories on my feet to my sweet son’s second birthday party. With every step that I took I hoped to expel the following thoughts into the universe for him: Have fun. Be safe. Enjoy your youth. Make good friends and walk away from anything or anybody who doesn’t make you feel full of worth and happiness. Wear the shoes that you like, not the ones that your buddy is wearing. Be grateful and know that you are loved.
And, If you come across an electric green pair of crocs with a Thomas the Train ‘jibbitz’ when you’re in your twenties and flashbacks of the zoo, your mom’s kisses, and chocolate ice cream flash into your beautiful head, call me. I will happily buy you a pair…or ten.