In my dad’s house there is a Doc Marten graveyard. There rest all my old Docs, it’s in a corner with boxes of old copies of The Face magazine and Dazed&Confused. It also shares a space with lots and lots of old cds of bands I loved (note past-tense), liked, and pretended to like and now hate and/or secretly love still.
The coffin containing all my teenage kicks and faux pas is mega dusty; it boxed numerous black Docs, red, maroon, blue, patterned, kitschy boots and even mary-janes... Some in good condition and some badly beaten; some full of punk attitude. And that attitude never ceases.
I wore Docs in Primary school and High school with my uniform, with grungy baby doll dresses, to my first gig, whilst shopping, to all night parties, stalking bands and even to graduation with a mop of bright pink hair!
It was when I started uni that’s when I put aside my Docs and lived in my Converse high tops like every other student. Something about beaten up and distressed converse sneakers seemed way cooler than my trusty, stumpy Docs. I think it had something to do with the Strokes and their strokes-ian skank and yeah, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
These days my shoe collection is far more extensive and more eclectic, move over Imelda Marcos! I don’t think I’ll ever resurrect my old Docs, that coffin is buried with my other junk. I abhor visiting my dad.
So anyway you can imagine my excitement when my new floral Doc Martens arrived in the post yesterday:
In bloom for spring and beyond; I’ll be stomping my way through summer...
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