Boots of Burden

Although I claim to be a die-hard anti-consumerist, I have one true hypocrisy, one severe weakness, one despicable vice - Shoes & boots. I am going to share my collection with you. Every pair has a special place in my patent leather heart. 

Native American-Made Childrens Moccasin. Owned since I was 4yrs old. Enemy of the cowboy boot. 

Toddler Cowboy Boots. Owned since I was 4yrs old. Enemy of the Moccasin.  

Velveteen Corduroy Slippers. Very very well used. 

Nail-Bottom Dress-Shoes. Vintage, over 40yrs old. Picked up in a junk-shop. 

Clomper Shoes. I removed the buckles in a fit of distaste. 

Polished Patent-Leather Bordello-Creepers. Worn for work as a doorman at the theatre.

Long-Shoes. Clearly fashioned while at Art School.

Suede Brogues. American made, bought in Transylvania. They weigh a ton. 

High-Top Winkle-Pickers (Hippy-Kickers). Oh so very Art School. All show, no comfort.  

Round-Head Chelsea Boots. Had to cut top open after drunken injury that resulted in massive ankle swelling. 

Dealer Boots. Worn exclusively with black denim. 

Snakeskin Italos. Fell in love with the shoeshop girl, then the shoes. Florence, 2007. 

Rough-Rider Boots. Hiked up the snow-covered Carpathian Mountains in these, sadly they didn't survive. 

Army Boots. Almost lost to artist Rich Cormack who took an extreme liking to them. 

Soft-Leather Cowboy Boots. My fist pair of adult cowboy boots. Kept for sentimentality's sake. Rest in Peace.

New Mexican Rancher Boots. Re-soled in adoration two times. 

Texan Oilman Boots. Have traveled thousands of miles with me,  my absolute favourites. 

Outback Cowboy Boots. Dingo Brand, savagely hard Cuban heels for that tough Aussie terrain. 

Vintage Motorcycle Boots. Huge, heavy and top-quality. I feel like an outlaw in them. c1970's.  

a ZINGARO COLLECTION | 2011