Swamp feet

 

I realised today how much I hate socks. I have been trying to be nicer to my feet, so I got some sneakers. They are okay I guess. I found a retro pair of Adidas.

But I swear my dr. Martens breathe better. I had swamp feet.

Swamp feet are the betrayal of good intentions, right? I started out thinking, “Yes, self-care! Yes, sneakers! Yes, retro vibes!” and then my feet stage a coup. A soggy, damp, rebellion.

Doc Martens, though? Built like emotional armor. They say, “I may blister you, but I will never betray you.”

They are the trauma boots and the victory boots, all in one. And let’s be honest… if my shoes could talk, I want them to sound like they smoked a pack of clove cigarettes and still got up to do the work.