boots

September 10, 2001. Stephanie sees those mid-calf dingy cowboy boots sitting in the corner of the room. She loves the way their heels click on the floor when she walks down the hall, the way they feel so snug around her foot. She wears them often, but never to school, and never with her little wool plaid uniform skirt. No, that would be mortifying.
     But apathy has gotten the best of her, this cold morning in September, and she jams them on her feet. Ah, they feel snug, warm, comfortable. They feel good. This will be the beginning of a day of changes for this sophomore.

   Sneaking around the house so her fashion-aware sister dosen't notice her choice of footwear, she waits for her ride and then jumps in the truck. Her friend is very supportive and impressed. The ugliness of the boots is outshone by the boldness of wearing them. As the truck nears the school, Stephanie is begining to feel anxiety. Does she really care what people think afterall?
    As she begins her walk to her locker, she gets a multitude of strange looks, and hears murmerings of 'shoes' and 'boots.' But the point of today is to pretend as if she is not wearing any cowboy boots, she's wearing the sneakers that look just like everyone else's. She ignores all the strange looks and offers no explanation. One upperclassmen even shouts "Wow, look at her boots, hey, you in the boots, wait up a minute." But doing that would be acknowledging the fact that she is wearing strange shoes. So Stephanie walks on.
      Coming into her first period math class, she takes her normal seat near the door. As she takes her books out of her bag, two girls, very fashion aware girls, Stephanie notes, actually stop in the hall way, look at her, and begin laughing even though they are aware that Steph can hear them. Have they no shame? After this, Stephanie begins to have strong feelings of shoe anxiety, but she is determined to hold her head up high.
    The rest of the morning brings more stares and giggles. Before lunch, while on an errand for a teacher, Stephanie's sister sees her in her shoes. "What the hell are you wearing?" "It's an experiment," Steph replies, supressing a grin. Yes, it is an experiment now. The importance of footwear.
     Entering the teacher's workroom for the copies of some paper she was sent for, Stephanie sees two teacher look her way, look at each other, and begin laughing loudly. They begin to walk out the door, and one croaks a "Hi" through a rather amused grin. A teacher! Of all people! You'd think that if they're used to people wearing platform sandles they'd be used to cowboy boots.
     Returning to homeroom with very little dignity left, she is greeted with a good-natured Howdey. Steph looks up from her French homework to see a girl and her friend in crutches looking at her feet. They see her looking at them and they begin dancing an interesting little jig, then they run off.
     At lunch, a friend from grade school gives her a very sincere thumbs up and "Nice boots." And an ancedote about how "I wore cowboy boots once, but it was with jeans and I was at home"
    The next class seemed a little more good natured about Stephanie's abnormal shoes, with "Nice boots, Nice shoes Steph, and Well Howdey Steph!" It was a class of stares and compliments.
     While in English class, she was called a cowgirl. Even the teacher came by and told her quietly "Nice Boots" By last period, no one was really saying much anymore or staring for any legnth of time. And the day of changes for Stephanie was over.

Conclusion:
It is really amazing how much those two peices of leather affected the people around me. They would stop and look and laugh or say something 'witty' or just give me a look like I was a freak. The most abundent was the looks like I was a freak, and that is really interesting. Those boots caused me to loose dignity and respect. Because I was doing something 'out of the ordinary,' even thought it wasn't personally degrading or disrespectful, people treated me completely differently.
         Before, people really couldn't look at me and decide i was a geek or a loser or clueless. But because I was showing a tiny lack of conformity, they thought that they were able to decide that I must be some kind of loser without even talking to me, and they seemed to treat me as if I had a peice of toilet paper trailing from my heel.
           Most were just amused, not really hostile. But they didn't have the same response my solemn face and my cold manner as the would before. Usually, when I looked at someone in the eyes with a kind of emotionless glance, they wouldn't grin back. But, because of the boots, I must be a joker or used to being laughed at.
           Over all, the importance of footwear at this wretched school is just astounding.