There are only a few stories of me being purposefully spiteful. Buckle in:
We’re on a girls trip in oh-ten. We’ve skied all day (I yard-saled, but that is quite literally another post), have opened the wine and ordered the food, settling in to enjoy a cozy night in our friend’s parents’ condo in Portland.
We go to pick up to-go Thai and find the car has a flat in the very tight underground parking garage, and two of the four girls are down trying to change the tire/waiting for an uncle, so I do what any good friend would do: bring down two glasses of wine.
I get into the elevator of what can only be described as a fairly fancy downtown building immediately post shower, with wet hair piled on my head wearing basketball shorts, a long sleeve shirt, and furry boots. Après in 2010.
These are my favorite boots, scored after I interned at Shape and obsessed over them for years after. They are rare Onitsuka Tigers with faux fur and pom poms and they are purple with pink faux fur and fake diamonds.
I hand off the wine and meet the uncle, who will henceforth and forever call me “Boots.”
I head to the elevator with the lady our flat-tired car sort of blocked in, but she could have pulled out, it was just—as mentioned—a tight underground garage. She has a sour face and is not at all pleased that I am getting into her elevator in her fancy building with her.
She gets in, presses the button for the lowest floor, and asks me what floor to press. I say “PH” and let her press the button, but it doesn’t light up.
“Oh,” I say with a smile, pulling out a fob, “I guess you need the fob for the penthouse.”
Onitsuka re-released the winter boot this year in three neutral colorways. Despite that shortcoming, I very much want to buy them boots again.