My sister in law proclaimed, apropos of nothing at all, at a christening one time (her holding a prosecco because she’d been given one despite not drinking due to being seven months pregnant and perma-scrolling for things to be offended about), that ankle boots had “ruined” her legs for years. Ruined. Look at how dramatic she was.
She’d read an article somewhere in 2013 and absorbed it whole, believing it with the same fiery hormonal skepticism you give things you read on the internet once and then don’t question them every time you encounter them for the rest of your life, and for ten years had reflexively reached for knee high boots over every outfit regardless of whether they suited said outfit or not.
I didn’t think about it much beyond that day at first, until I realised I had four pairs of ankle boots rotating through my autumn wardrobe at any given time and never once considered that maybe they were secretly sabotaging my figure every time I left the house.
So then I spent weeks thinking about it. Because, of course I did. I am what anyone would call an expert at letting random sentences people say grind around their brain for months. I stood in front of my wardrobe naked and tried on about eleven outfit combinations, text photos to two friends who I trust to immediately tell me if I look like shit, and tried to extrapolate if there was any truth at all to the idea or if this was just another Vogue opinion turned truisms because people repeated it enough times that it became fact.
Here’s the thing. After all that. It’s more complicated than a yes/no answer. Because whilst the kneejerk response to “do ankle boots make your legs look fat?” is yes, because why else would you ask? The actual honest answer is that it’s not the boot you’ve got on but everything above the ankle that matters.
The boot isn’t the problem, the gap is
Ok so first. The theory that ankle boots “make your legs look fat” allegedly works like this: because an ankle boot stops you mid calf it creates a hard horizontal line at around the widest point of your lower leg which causes your eye to perceive your leg as wider rather than longer. Ok. Cool. That’s actually a thing that exists. Aren’t vertical lines thinner? We’re not arguing that part.
Where it goes wrong is in the jump from “there is a horizontal line at your ankle” to “therefore you look fat.” None of that applies uniquely to ankle boots, that’s just how lines work. It applies to every boot/shoe/trouser hem that doesn’t come up to your calves. What actually makes your leg look stumpy and stubbed off is not the ankle boot you’re wearing, but the gap between your boot and whatever you’re wearing above it. Skinny jeans that bunch down and create a puddle of fabric right at your ankle boots edge? That’s the problem. Not the boots themselves. I tested this theory on myself by wearing a pair of wide leg trousers I bought from Zara on sale in Cardiff three years ago and still haven’t got round to getting hemmed because I’m weirdly lazy like that, paired with ankle boots. Priya (who I sent the proof text photo to) responded with “why do your legs look like tree stumps” within five minutes of receiving it. Ok fine. But then I put the same exact boots with a slim leg cropped trouser that hits above the ankle bone with literally no bunching or extra fabric, just a clean sharp line straight down my leg and Priya replied “oh that’s actually really nice, hang on let me send you the first photo again so I can compare.” They were the same boots. The trouser leg changed. The gap between boot and hem was eliminated.
This never comes up when discussing this because “ankle boots make your legs look fat” is such a punchy statement and “actually, it’s all about the visual taper of your hemline to boot shaft and if you get that wrong with ANY boot/heel/shoe/trousers it will throw off your whole leg look” does not fit on a whiteboard.
Where I went wrong for years
Look, full disclosure time, because it relates. For a good five years I would not wear ankle boots out with anything remotely tight on my calves, jeans, leggings, you name it. Convinced that pairing them with anything narrower than boyfriend jeans would “give my legs more definition” and therefore exacerbate whatever imaginary problem my thighs thought they had that day. Repeated boyfriend jeans stopped dead at the boot. Swear I told myself that was “flattering” at some point. Never once considered why I felt like I was living in the same four outfits every single week.
The first time I tucked skinny jeans into ankle boots properly – for reals, not bunching even a little to ” soften the line.” Proper tucked in – my leg looked longer, not wider. My friend Deborah (she has never met a piece of clothing I’ve worn she didn’t immediately have an opinion on), who spotted me outside a coffee shop in Leeds said “oh my god, you have legs again! Like actually you have legs!” outside a coffee shop in Leeds.
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I know. Anecdotal evidence. But also better than “reads an article online” level crap advice that I bought hook, line, and sinker for over half a decade. And yes, before you ask, I have spent years of my life looking for that original article to see if it actually said anything that made sense, even with my new and improved thigh confidence. I can not find it. Someone said something specific and wrong once upon a time and now we’re all guilty of repeating that same message with no knowledge of where it came from.
I probably stood in front of my closet and having that exact conversation out loud at some point, something along the lines of “sorry skinny jeans, I judged you for no reason for five years because of something someone said that I can’t even find.” Gross. And exactly the kind of mess you get yourself into when you hear someone state a full formed opinion and never question it.
I genuinely think we all have this. Hell, I know we do. Some article we read in our twenties that came to frame how we viewed every outfit we put on for the rest of our lives because someone sounded authoritative enough on one thing that we blindly accepted they were equally authoritative on everything. Except they won’t ever read this to correct themselves.
But what’s worse is “flattering” isn’t inherent to one thing. It’s the trouser leg in conjunction with the boot, the boot shaft length with the heel height, your proportions vs the widest part of the trouser leg etc. A flat ankle boot looks wildly different next to a boot with an inch heel because the heel lifts your foot higher, changing your angle even before we talk about what you’re wearing with it.
What I actually wear now, and how I still fail at it
Believe it or not, I don’t have this completely nailed. I bought a pair of ankle boots from the服饰选购的女装 department at a supermarket a few years ago. Block heel, slightly chunky, and every pair of trousers I own that SHOULD work with them just look wrong.
To my eye they look too short. Like the shaft of the boot isn’t long enough to even qualify as an ankle boot, it’s hitched right around the smallest part of my ankle rather than sitting slightly above it which creates ankle boot with literally no ankle. Like, every pair I try them with has the same issue. They’ve stayed in my wardrobe because fuck buying clothes and I will wear them until they fall apart, but will happily acknowledge that I’ve failed at styling them correctly and they’re probably never going to work how I want them to.
But what DOES work for me, and this may disappoint you if you’re looking for me to say “just wear ankle boots with everything!” is paying more attention to the trouser/boot gap than the boot itself. Anything with volume around or below the knee get a boot with slightly longer shaft, mid calf vs ankle so there’s less gap/area for things to go wrong. Slimmer trousers or cropped trousers get the true ankle boot because there’s nothing to fight it.
Heel height is another thing I massively underestimated for this whole ordeal. Even a small block heel, like an inch at most changes your foot enough that it makes a noticeable difference. Spotted this again when I wore an entirely flat ankle boot to my friend’s birthday in Manchester and felt chunkier than the exact same outfit with boots with a small heel the week before. Same jeans. Same everything. My friend Aisha (strong boot wearer and therefore has told me unsolicited opinions on footwear more times than I can count) noticed immediately I hadn’t said anything and was just like “huh, these boots aren’t as good?” Which is fucking amazing, she basically did an entire experiment for free.
TLDR: no I don’t think ankle boots make your legs look fat. I think having disproportionate trousers/socks whatever above the boot can make anyone’s legs look wider or shorter, and it’s not exclusive to ankle boots. It happens with every category of shoe. Your knee jerk reaction that “ankle boots are worse” is because that’s the specific area we focus on but start heading up higher and you’ll find loads of examples of shit proportions making your legs look like shit.
And honestly? The original quoted who asked me about it all? Still isn’t convinced. Sat her down and explained all of the above (alcohol had been consumed on both our parts by this point) and she nodded along politely before getting her coat and leaving at the end of the night clearly having totally forgotten about the whole conversation. Called her a few weeks later and she told me she wore her ankle boots to work with slim trousers and no one said anything about her legs. ? ??????????????????????? Close enough to a rave review from her that I’ll take it.
