... But not this woman in her thirties. Allow me to explain:
Now that the snow has melted and the birds are chirping again, it is time to reflect on my first Pleasantville winter. I've thought about it in terms of snow: I now know the difference between light snow and heavy snow (there is a big, big difference). I've thought about it in terms of driving: I now know what it feels like to fishtail (it is not a good feeling). I've even thought about it in terms of the sweaters I've accumulated over the last few months (Many. Many.)
But none of these things really define my first winter. It isn't until I look in our coat closet in the mudroom that I realize that my success this winter has had nothing to do with shovels, four wheel drive, or even long johns. It has everything to do with shoes.
If you know me you know I am not a collector of shoes. Let's just say that fifteen years of spending entire summers barefoot and two elf-like big toes make shoe shopping less than fun. Add to that my affinity for comfort over style, and you have boring, practical me.
However.... if you live here you must embrace your winter shoes. You must purchase them carefully and treat them like members of the family. And lucky for me, I have a member of the family who happens to be the perfect model for telling my winter shoe story:
Chapter 1-- Costco Fauxggs
Since I don't spend more than $100 on shoes unless they're Dansko's, these were a huge find by L's Mom. I bought these in November and thought-- stupidly-- that these were winter boots. Turns out that these are fall and spring boots. L's Mom also gave me the sound advice to NOT wear these when it's wet out, lest I want to buy a new pair every month. That's why they still look so fauxgg-tastic.
Chapter 2-- L's Sorels
When L bought these boots some time in November, he made the mistake of saying that I could borrow them if I ever wanted to walk Daniel in the snow. While they are men's boots and too big for my feet, I'm embarrassed to say that I wore these for the entire month of December and most of January. Comfortable? Not really. But they are waterproof all the way up to the laces, and I learned quickly that waterproof matters.
Chapter 3-- Sorels of My Very Own
I finally broke down and bought these at the end of January, after many weeks of painful searching. I could regale you with the story, but suffice it to say I spent more time shopping for these winter boots than I did my wedding dress, veil, and reception venue combined. Usually I do not buy such tall boots because they make me look even shorter than I actually am. But something happened in January-- a combination of L's death stare every time I put on his boots and the 400 million pounds of snow we got that month-- and I realized that looking short is not that big of a deal.
Chapter 4-- Target Rain Boots
When you live in California, rain boots are something little kids and JCrew models wear. When you live in Pleasantville and it's cold, but not cold enough to put on your sub-zero zip on boots, and it's wet and sloshy outside, but not wet and sloshy enough to stay indoors, you wear rain boots. And come on-- these are cute! (But I'm not sure Daniel agrees, based on those bedroom eyes.)
So there you have it. A woman in her thirties has an extensive shoe collection. And while mine might not the type of shoes that will get me on People's Best Dressed list, I know now that what I have lands me smack in the middle of winter success.