“I can’t give you anything but love” is a real Depression-era sentiment. There must be something he can give.” Helen Gurley Brown, Sex and the Single Girl
I was in Sperbeck’s getting chips, a banana and a few minute chocolate bars (feck diets!) when a man came up to me and told me he liked my rose-printed 14 eyelet Doc Martens. They’re beautiful boots; my mom and Ian went in on them for Christmas one year and I’ve been wearing them a lot lately. Docs are my shoe of choice; I’ve been wearing them since college and this is the 4th pair I own.
But they’re not exactly Betsey Johnson stiletto booties, so I was kind of surprised that they got noticed. He proceeded to tell me that he had a pair of vintage hiking boots that would probably be my size; if he could find them, he would give them to me. I smiled politely and thanked him, but didn’t expect anything would come of it.
I went in today to get my chips and chocolate, and the woman behind the counter said that he had, in fact, left them for me. And, true to his word, they fit.
Some women get men to buy them anything. My sister Laura used to have guys lining up to buy her things. One of them offered to buy her a dog one time. My boyfriend Geza used to spoil me with roses and dinners, Ian buys me random things and Matthew almost never shows up empty handed (he got me an SVU crew hoodie!) is but as a general rule, men don’t often come up and offer to give me presents. The boots are stiff from storage, but they’re insanely cool. They’re actually cobbled, not glued. And maybe they’re not affair-inspiring stilettos, but they’re totally Libby.
A girl could get used to this . . . .