Yesterday I got my hands on a pair of stunning knee-length black leather Nine Wests, and for an excellent price. Man, are they nice. And flat. I can only wear flats now, because the old feet and legs won’t rise to the occasion any more (they’re very cross with me because I abused them in my 20s with too much wearing of platforms and/or kitten heels, so now they’re fighting back.)
Only problem is – and I’ve had this before with boots – the calves aren’t wide enough for my legs and I can’t get the zips up all the way. NO – WAIT, dammit! Let me look at this from another angle – the boots have been cut extremely badly, designed by people who don’t have real women in mind. The problem thus lies with them, not me.
I must put these boots right. I must unpick them down the back seam until they slip like butter over my calves.
I must insert a v-shaped piece of black corduroy and hold it in place with staples.
I must stitch down over the leather through the corduroy close to the edge (one needs an industrial sewing machine to do this), and trim the loose bits . I must dab black fabric paint over the stitching because I was too impatient to change the reel from cream to black.
And finally, I must stick a bit of black lace over the raw edges of the leather where I sliced it open, using fabric glue, to complete the job. I must peg it all in place to dry nice and smooth (the glue becomes colourless as it dries).
And there you have it – how not to take shit from boot designers :-)