Tricker's Bourton Country Shoe

This pair of Trickers made no sense in my head as a Thunderdome pair- an unlined (vamp) pair of leather soled shoes in a light suede to get through the winter. And yet, that's exactly why I decided to 'dome them- to prove to myself whether suede is hardy, whether I myself am hardy enough to not rock insulated boots with thick socks all season long. As it turns out, the shoes stopped mattering after a bit- my mom passed away early in the dome. So the test became a bit more about my own hardiness, just putting one foot forward even on days when I just... couldn't. My shoes faired a bit better than my psyche since in my emotional cocoon I didn't put them through nearly enough literal paces - but they still reflect my condition. This is true particularly of the garlic sauce stain, the one that appears slightly yellow from certain angles, a permanent bruise- the one I can't scrub away, no matter how hard I try; the shoes as indelibly changed as I am. As time passes, though, and each week struggles between snowy blizzards and the warm brightness of spring, so too returns an occasional glimmer of a self I had forgotten- certainly a wearier self, a more disheveled self, but also one finding his place, a self finding a smile again. And in that sense, these shoes are doing the same- stains softening and blending, shape relaxing, color brightening in the sun. I never thought I'd wax poetic about a pair of shoes. Or at least, this isn't how I figured I would- but I am glad to have a barometer of my own progress, and a reminder in my shoes and those of other domers, that worn, weary and disheveled isn't a permanent state of being.