And it takes me to the following question: What drives a middle-class human being to invest such outrageous amount of money in mere feet decoration?
Since I hadn't had the time/intellectual capacity to elaborate persuasive arguments, I'm going to let the following images do the job.
So after all these powerful, undebatable reasons of why these boots should be decorating my feet, I committed the sweet, sweet crime of heading off to the Bal Harbor Shops and asked (with a fake Russian accent) if I could try a pair on.
180 seconds later, a glorious bag containing a glorious box containing a glorious pair of boots was given to me while bells rang and a gospel choir sang and flowers blossomed. Yes, that actually happened.
Now my feet get more compliments than my grandma's ham and cheese pie. And trust me, that was one fucking delicious pie.
And of course, I would never end a post about boots without the following video: