To justify the cost, I knew I needed a pair of boots that were worth it. These boots are worth it.

Opening the box had me worried. The leather was lighter than I thought it would be. The surface was already smudged by insect bites and abrasions in a couple places. I was tempted to baby these boots. I'm glad I didn't. For most of these boot's life, I worked at a food bank. They've have tracked through broken asphalt muck and reservation dust, and carry scratches from tumbleweed thorns. The first wear the soles got was endless trips back and forth between hard concrete and office carpet. Carrying boxes. Dragging pallets. Apparently I scuff the insides of my heels – I know there's a term for that, I've never learned it – these boots are a biography of my working life. Later, in the early months of 2024, I transitioned to a hybrid work from home gig. I consider myself lucky and unlucky now, now. Less heavy lifting at work is a double edged sword. I hike my laptop out to parks and overlooks in these boots, to break up the monotony of the day. My boots are my companions – trusted coworkers. I hang out with them after we clock out, walk the local trail system in the evenings and watch the trees bloom into spring.

I guess I kind of cursed myself by choosing a sensitive leather. It was extremely light and flat when I got it – a gorgeous matte tangerine cream without much surface depth. I was worried I would ruin it. It has matured beautifully. I brush these every day after wear. Slap them together to knock free dust or mud. Clean, oil, and condition them once a month. I let the rough out sections do their own thing. The Maryam Natural Horsebutt has darkened considerably. Stretch marks have risen to the surface and the leather is slowly developing an aged-brass patina on the raised folds and a rich cedar hue in the creases. Because of the thickness of the leather, and the multiple layered construction of this specific boot style, I feel like I'm barely breaking these in. I wouldn't describe them as soft, more anatomically formed. They feel like armor; this leather has years before it attains its final form. I'm sure I've only begun these boots evolution.

Tahura's work is world class, likely the finest boot craftsmanship the vast majority of the people who experience this pair will ever interact with. When I took these to be resoled, cobbler I showed them to would not believe they were stitched by hand until I showed him videos. I could not speak more highly of the work done on these boots. They feel like armor. They feel like they will last me a lifetime. Even the imperfections – slight misalignments of the brogue, leather scars left in prominent places on the upper, or a hairline lift between leather layers – charm me. Literally the only things that I might complain about with this pair are my own fault: I requested a design change to the upper pattern cutting to make them thicker, now they are heavy and hot. I specifically asked for leather laces, and went through three pair before I realized it wasn't worth it and resigned myself to wax cord. And, worst of all, I initially picked the wrong sole.

When I chose these soles, I did it because I wanted to split the difference between the comfort of a cushion and the work utility of a heel. I had never tried Dr Soles. Tahura ordered them special for me. I hated them. These were a mistake. They looked and felt gorgeous, but they were not functional. They wore fast on concrete, chipped on rock, attracted unsafe amounts of slippery dust like a swiffer mop, and the right heel developed an annoying squeak about 2 weeks after I began wearing them. It was the squeak that did me in. I pushed through months of hearing it every time I stepped on a hard surface. Finally I'd had enough. I cut off both soles with a knife and scheduled a resole with a local cobbler the following week.

Shout out to Tony's Shoe Repair 2 in Phoenix AZ. I was about ready to drop out of the contest, I hated the Dr Soles I originally chose for these boots so much. He fit me into his schedule on a weekend, didn't blink at my hatchet removal job, and had me fit up with a pair of Vibram Cristy's within an hour. I knew I never should have strayed from the classics.

When I ordered this pair of boots, I knew I was married to them. I live in an area with an absurd cost of living. I work in the non-profit sector; I've committed myself to low-paying jobs. Buying high-cost, disposable items is not a luxury I have. By choice and by necessity, I invest in durable, beautiful objects. These boots fit that description: they are wearable art. I've hiked miles in these boots, lifted thousands of pounds in a day wearing them, jumped snow slush puddles in winter, and comfortably worn them through meetings with the representatives of local governments and sovereign nations. Rarely a day goes by that I step outside and someone doesn't compliment them. I have made myself make these boots part of my identity, and they have fit me perfectly in countless situations. The end of this contest will come as something of a relief to me. Up until now, I've worn these boots fearlessly – beating them up, wearing them Super Hard Core, as Tahura would say – in an attempt to shape them into the pattern of me. Now, I can wear them thoughtlessly and let life do that for me. I will have this pair of boots for decades. Life will likely only beat them into a more beautiful shape. I will never want a divorce from this pair of boots. These boots were worth it.