Docs

Doc Marten boots are a staple of any classically cool wardrobe- they were worn by the poor and downtrodden working class, and then adopted by the punk movement in England in the 60s. To this day they are still renowned for their quality and easy go-with-anything look.
So, naturally, I wanted some. The only drawback to me was the price (on average $120 a pair), but it seemed after my old combat boots wore out with only one year of wear that the quality was probably worth it.
I did not want to order online without trying them on, because I had heard that the sizing was a little strange. Thus, the only logical course of action was to travel into the city and go to the Doc Martens store near Union Square. My experience in the store was amazing! The workers there were EXTREMELY helpful and friendly, and they helped me find the perfect size quickly and easily. They also knew a lot about the brand, and were able to answer all my questions regarding the making of the boots.
Another good thing about this brand is that they do have vegan/vegetarian options. All of the boots are very good leather, but they do have faux leather ones that are (reportedly) just as well made and long lasting if you are opposed to the use of animals.
The first few times I wore them, they did hurt and gave me blisters, but after the fourth wear they basically molded to my feet and are now ridiculously comfortable.
Anyway, here are some pictures!

These are the classic 460 boots in black.

Don't Go Crazy About It

There's way too much negativity about body image with teenage girls....

Sometimes that's the only thing we ever talk about, like "oh this is ugly," just to get positive feedback, because according to the media we can never be thin enough.

I know that I myself am guilty of this, and its a hard habit to break, but I'm trying very hard. As an athlete I spend a lot of time analyzing what my body is doing and saying and feeling and so this can really lead to a lot of obsessiveness and bad feeling. However, I believe I can certainly turn this around by really focusing on what I can do instead of what I can't. Anyway. I wrote a poem about this whole teenage-girl-body-image thing.

Laying in bed sometimes at night

I caress the hollows beneath my hipbones

and wonder what it would feel like if those valleys

between my ribs were still there when I am standing.

I press my hands around my thighs and

pull at the weakest bit of my triceps

and I wonder what it would be like

If those parts were a little bit smaller.

Laying in bed sometimes at night

I plan every bite

to eat tomorrow, I

become a math genius

and I chart the values and colour

bars on graphs which aren’t physical yet

but exist somewhere on a great plane

in my mind.

Laying in bed sometimes at night

I replay over and over and over and over

every second of every workout

I count the number of times my feet hit the pavement,

the number of crunches I did

the number of weights I lifted

the number of times the rope arched over my head

and slammed into the floor under my toes

and resolve to push a little harder.

If you’re not ill at the end you didn’t accomplish anything.

Laying in bed sometimes at night

I curve my arms around my abdomen

I press with all my strength

Like it will melt all the extra bits away.