I got given a 200€ voucher that I can spend on Zalando and my Doc Martens that I bought 13 years ago are reaching a non-return point. Six months ago I put some duct tape inside to cover the hole that made their waterproofness a lie. It’s working so far, but each step I take I feel adrenaline rushing through my veins because of the possibility of them breaking, leaving me shoeless.

I regret being young and fool and not taking proper care of them, but now I know and every six months I spend a couple of hours putting black leather care products on all of my leather things, like a proper adult, left with black greasy hands and the hope that I didn’t make my whole room and garderobe dirty.

I am now stuck on my mother’s armchair, with ten Zalando tabs open, wondering whether I should just use this voucher and get a new pair of sub-par quality of combat boots or if I should just invest 250€ of my own money and get some made in the UK factory that used to make them before globalisation, popularity and capitalism brainwashed the owners of Doc Martens and converted them into fast-cheap-made-by-children-who-knows-where. My mom asks me whether I have chosen and I tell her that the world makes no sense anymore.

She tells me that Chelsea boots are extremely comfortable ‘cause you can put them on like this and then she mimics the gesture of putting them on like one puts Chelsea boots on. In the meanwhile I think whether Vagabond, the brand I chose to limit my search on, is actually good quality and would last me long. Should I do more research? Then I open a new tab and go look through “stivalettes” and I ask myself why are combat boots under stivalettes. The sheer quantity of choice is devastating and after going to page 2 of the search, I desist. Anxiety is starting to push on my chest as I realise that I don’t even know whether my foot size is 39.5 or a 40 and if I would have to send the boots back in case they don’t fit and get a new one, increasing the impact that this single choice would make on the world.

I look at all the 30, 40, 50, 70% discounts that are on each item and I start imagining the flux of all these shoes going around in this Christmas period, that more than being full of love, seems to be full of Coca Cola and I ask myself whether I actually need new shoes or if I’m just getting fooled by this buy-buy-consume frenzy, but to be honest all of my objects are slowly breaking down because I use them until just one string of leather is left covering my heel.

I then go to Vagabond website and start wondering whether I should become a shoemaker while looking at a video of their factory. My mom tells me she has a shoemaker friend and asks me if she should put us in contact. I tell her no, but I secretly think about a better time when I could have been a local craftsman and then get hit by the reality that as a woman (or a person who looks like one) I would have been relegated home to take care of kids I don’t want.

I just want to buy some shoes.