You may observe that sometimes I say a boot “fights back” when I’m trying to last it, but I want to make it clear that whenever I say this it’s due to one of two things: I either patterned it incorrectly and am trying to correct bad patterning through hard pulling, or it’s ostrich.

Except for these boots.

These boots gave me hell (haha, that’s an appropriate joke) trying to get them on the last and I have no idea why. I finally decided they were possessed by satan, for real. I’ve had both of them on the last, back off the last, back on the last, and repeat. I managed to successfully get one on the last yesterday afternoon, then staggered off to my women’s wine group where everyone kept asking me if I was OK until I got some food and wine in me and perked back up. This morning I arrived at the shop, dreading Round Two with Boot Two. That little hypocrite fell onto the last like it had been waiting for years, looked me in the eye, and threatened to sue me for libel if I maligned its character on social media (so please don’t tell).

Anyway, they’re both on the last now and trying to convince me that they’ve never misbehaved and never will again.