The mourning period has set in. After eight years of continuous use, my black vegan sparkly 11 eyelet Dr. Martins and I must part ways. This is a sad, momentous occasion for me.

These boots have been through Europe, much of the United States, and Canada. They were on my feet when I first fell in love, drank, and learned how to drive. Each hole has a different story, and each pair of laces it has worn were friends. Putting my boots in the garbage was like putting a pet to sleep.

My first pair of Docs, bought when I was twelve years old from months of saved allowances. I was at Houston’s Shoes in Berkeley, on Shattuck, and they were in the window on display. It was love at first sight.

Now, they are no longer as sparkly, or black. The canvas uppers are shriveling, eaten away by all the steps my feet have taken in them. There is a layer of grime on the outside that no number of washings can get rid of, and several of the grommets have fallen out. The laces,in my boots lifetime, have been replaced six times. The soles, which once had ridges, are now smooth, shiny rubber.

Goodbye boots. I will miss you.