The other day I googled "Doc Martens" to see what cool and hip boutique was selling them these days, as I'd like to pick up a pair of boots for the upcoming fall/winter season. And I don't know where to buy them anymore because the thing about Docs is, they last forever. I've had the same pair of three-hole shoes for over 15 years and they're not even showing wear for the most part. These shoes are indestructible.
So there I am...googling. And the results surprised the heck of me. Zappos? Nordstrom online? What?
Where were the cool and hip boutiques?
I have to pull a "back in my day thing" here.
BUT, back in my day, shopping for a pair of Doc Marten boots was an adventure. One you shared with your best girlfriends on a Saturday afternoon. These shoes just weren't available anywhere. You had to hop on a train and walk from 8th and Market to South Street. Your group donned their coolest skirts, Smiths t-shirts and layers of silver jewelry to make this trip. You talked about the boys in your circle and which one you wanted to hook up with.
You stood outside Zipperhead and took the final few drags of your cigarette, batting your heavily black-lined eyes at the Ian McCulloch look alike roaming aimlessly down the street. And finally you went in the store and asked the oh-so-intimidating older punk girl behind the counter for a pair of 14-hole ox blood steel toe boots in a men's 5 (because these boots didn't come in women's sizes).
And finally, you slip your foot into the coolest boots that ever were. They envelope your calf and your girlfriends nod in approval. These are the boots you've been waiting for and it's finally time to bring them home.
$120 that you saved from your minimum wage drugstore job later, you have finally acquired THE shoes. The shoes that are as cool as you are.
Buying Doc Martens was an event. It was brilliant. And like so many brilliant things that made up my younger years, it no longer works that way.
You just log on to the net and order them from Nordstrom. No dressing up. No best girlfriends. No trip to the city. Just the anonymous act of filling in your credit card information.
It was a simple thing, but a beautiful rite of passage nonetheless.
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4 comments:
Tragic. Just tragic. Another victim of the evolution of commerce in the modern age. I mean, first all the mom and pop booteries were run out of business by competition from Big Boot. Of course, we now know there wasn't a level playing field there because Big Boot was vertically integrated and was better able to deal with the cobblers unions. The mom and pop outfits didn't stand a chance. But now, even Big Boot is at a crossroads. Some of the traditionalists have resisted the internet, preferring instead to stick with the brick and mortar approach to moving boots. It seems, though, that time has proven the traditionalists shortsighted, as the bootsellers with a robust online presence are now controlling the lion's share of the Doc Marten market. It's a cliche, but perhaps the lesson here is that the only constant is change. C'est la vie.
OMG - I just tinkled!
just read this post and started smiling. i still have my pair of 10-hole oxbloods that i got at trash and vaudeville on south street. i too, saved my money, took the train, walked, was intimidated by people much cooler (and older) people, and bought my first pair. i still proudly wear them as i walk my kids to school in collingswood. it's a shame that more people do not know the story of "the boots."
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