Winter boots for less than perfect midlife feet

For months I have been searching for a new pair of boots.

I own various pairs of boots, but have one particular favourite pair.  They are around five years old and decidedly tatty looking to be honest.  But God, are they comfortable.  And this is the pair I’ve been hoping to replace.

Being a midlife woman, my feet are less than perfect; after all they’re suffering from five decades of wear and tear.  You know the sort of thing – chilblains; deformed toes.  Now, I do have boots with heels and I do have knee high soft buttery leather flat boots, but whilst shopping for the new replacement boots I had some specifics in mind, and all the boxes had to be ticked for me to make a purchase.  They had to be flat (otherwise I tower above everyone else), leather, pointy toed ankle boots with a non slip sole (not wanting to break a hip at my age), accommodating two pairs of socks (I suffer from cold feet) and they needed to fit snugly underneath skinny jeans, which I tend to live in.

What a mission.  Obviously fashion dictates to a huge extent the style of boots in the shops each winter, and this year’s ranges just didn’t fit the bill at all.  I had almost given up hope and resigned myself to sticking with my old faithfuls till next winter.

Today, however, I found just the pair.  I think.  Well, I’ve bought them.  They seem pretty comfy, but I won’t know that for sure until I’ve properly test-driven them for several miles and a couple of midlife months.

So, here they are.  Flat, black, leather, pointy toed, non slip soles, wide enough to take two pairs of socks, and snug around the ankle.  Bonus for me – they’ve got a generous helping of studs, straps and buckles.  I know they’re a tad too shiny; give me a couple of weeks and they’ll look all beautifully battered and lived-in.

And where did I find these marvellous boots?  In a shoe shop at Meadowhall.  And the make?  Bronx.  I’m also delighted to say that they were in the sale, reduced from £80 to £40.  Winner.

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Winter balm for chapped lips

The winter weather is playing havoc with my midlife skin, and in particular with my lips.  They are so bloody sore and look something like this:

I have a bathroom cabinet full of possible cures, but none seem to be working efficiently, regardless of how many times a day I apply them.

There’s nothing for it then; I require a balaclava.  This particular mode of headwear is named after the town of Balaclava in Crimea (now Ukraine) and was originally worn by Russian soldiers.  It’s a sort of sock for your head that doubles up as a hat and a scarf.  They are wonderfully warm and popular with skiers, climbers and all outdoorsy types in cold climates.

I have no desire, however, to look like a dodgy criminal when I pop into Tesco, or to set off any alarm bells at my local Barclays branch, so I may have to get my knitting needles out, as the only ones I can find are black or very dark in colour.

This is what I’m aiming for as a cure for my chapped lips; I’ll keep you posted when I find a decent pattern:

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Midlife shopping experience in South Yorkshire. Fashion conscious? I think not.

It occurs to me that huge chunks of the British population really do not care what they look like.  This opinion was formed whilst shopping in a large South Yorkshire town a good few miles away from my home this afternoon.

The place has a fantastic market; the best for miles around I’d say.  If it’s food you’re after then this market is short of nothing.  I’ve never seen so many meat stalls, fish stalls, fruit and vegetable stalls, cheese stalls and delicatessen stalls anywhere before.  I love the place for fresh food shopping.  I would suggest, however, that you don’t go browsing in the food halls with an empty stomach, because you’ll spend more than you intended, guaranteed.

This busy town also has a great indoor shopping mall, recently extended to house some of the best shops and brands known to the UK.  There are some marvellous designer shops tucked away down side streets as well, with window displays to die for.

Midlife women shopping in South Yorkshire town

But the people walking about.  Dear, oh dear.  They are a sight to behold.  Well, most of them I’d say.  Today I’ve seen young and middle aged women with tatty hair, in baggy dresses with anoraks over; young men and midlife men in ill-fitting jeans and cheap shirts; and numerous teenagers dressed in shell-suit style fabrics with scruffy trainers.  There was a distinct lack of well dressed people out and about.  And every time I go there I think the same thing.

Ill-dressed midlife men hanging out in South Yorkshire town

This town has a busy, somewhat affluent feel to it.  The shops are full to brimming with fashionable and attractive clothes.  So why does the population here appear to own nothing but mismatched clothes from jumble sales or charity shops?  And more to the point, how on earth do the shops survive?  Who the hell is buying their goods?  Because it’s definitely not the local population this midlifer was shopping with today.

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