... being admired, I think. I 'm not at all sure why they were my footwear of choice for the hairdressers this morning, but not only were they much commented upon, but I was in a position to see their reflection for quite some time. And to reflect, for that matter, how for many years cowboy boots (embroidered; merely stitched; of tooled leather; and, for a strange while, large and clunky - as in roping boots, a kind of Western footwear equivalent of DMs) were my footwear of choice. I'm not entirely sure when this (largely) stopped: quite possibly this is largely a question of my feet getting older and tireder.
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