One of my sister in laws sent me a photo earlier this summer. It was from a beer garden in July, her caption was “don’t judge me” and she was wearing suede knee high boots, a sundress, sat in said garden with a pint of something orange. She looked glorious, like she didn’t care what anyone else was wearing because she was sat in a beer garden with a pint of something orange and she was right, nobody else was wearing boots. My first reaction was to hate her, naturally. It’s what you do when someone posts you a photo with the caption “don’t judge me.” After about four seconds my second reaction was that her legs looked incredible and I was weirdly angry about it.
It got stuck in my head for weeks.
Not because she was wrong, she really wasn’t. But I couldn’t understand why my brain was telling me she was. No one had told me you can’t wear knee high boots in summer, but like so many other uninspected rules I’d just taken it as gospel. White after Labour Day? Too hot to tuck your jeans? Boots are for Autumn and Winter. Don’t question them, just accept them and follow them like a good little fashion soldier. So I set about technically proving them right, or wrong. Through good old-fashioned research that basically consisted of wearing boots all through one spectacularly stupid heatwave in June.
The big heat debate isn’t actually as valid as you think
The first thing I read, and no doubt will read again when I publish this, is that boots are hot. Boot detractors say this constantly. Which is fair, boots have more material than your foot needs. It’s just science. But I wore suede knee highs, the slouchiest pair I own, to a barbecue at Chessington on the hottest Saturday of the year. 29 degrees my phone told me. And you know what wasn’t hot? My feet. My feet were fine. My HEAD was hot. My BACK where my linen shirt was clinging to me like it thought it was halfway through an Elizabethan drama was hot. My boots were minding their own business.
I think what’s actually happening is people mistake being hot by heat, with being hot by shining sun. They’re not the same thing. Knee high boots, in the right material; suede, unlined soft leather, heck even a canvas style if you’re classy enough to find that, don’t actually trap heat like you think they would because they don’t sit snuggly against your skin like tights or leggings would. There’s airflow! Give your leg a google. There’s room! It’s basically a really tall really badass ziplock bag with space to spare. The parts of summer dressing that actually make you sweat are things touching you at the waist, underarms etc. Boots don’t do any of that.
My work mate Desmond*, who has very strong opinions on footwear he has never been asked for, told me I’d “fried my own legs” by wearing boots to that barbecue and proceeded to spend the entire afternoon bitching at me about how his trainers gave him a blister the size of a £2 coin walking on the gravel. Guess whose foot was actually in agony that day? Not mine. Someone else’s. Someone who wore trainers. Listen to me. Let this be Gospel.
*(Desmond asked to clarify that his feelings on footwear should not be taken as fact.)
The heat argument kind of works on materials, but only kinda
The bit where people who insist boots are too hot for summer are right, and I’ll cop to this because that’s called being honest, is with certain materials. A fully lined, fully weighty leather boot is not going to be cool in June. Trust me, I tried. I own a gorgeous pair of structured black leather knee highs with proper lining and proper zip. They’re amazing boots. But they were not made for garden centres. By the time I’d walked round looking at pots and pretending I needed new planters my calves felt like sausages. But that’s not a summer boot issue, that’s a boot material issue. The problem wasn’t knee high, it was that I dug out my winter boots without thinking about how they were constructed.
The real thing nobody talks about is the trousers underneath, not the boots
The thing that finally convinced me though, more than actually wearing boots all summer did was the trousers underneath them. It’s not the boots that make or break a summer pairing, it’s what you’ve got going on under that leather. The photo my sister in law posted that started me on this whole journey worked because she wore bare legs and a short sundress, so although the boot was covering her legs it’s only covering her calves and shins. The bits that don’t actually do any sweating were covered, but her skin was doing all the hard work. That’s all it takes. Cover your calves down to bits you’re not exposing, let your skin breathe. Easy.
I tried boots with thick denim tucked in and instantly felt like I was wearing two winter layers and had failed at summer dressing. Obviously I wasn’t failing at boots, I was just failing at dressing in the summer. My Mum in law Bev**, who watches me get dressed a lot and isn’t afraid to voice unsolicited opinions on my life choices, looked down when I paired boots, a cotton sundress and bare legs and said “well that actually looks like you’ve thought about it.” Bev does not say compliments, so for her to say that, right after I’d explained my knee high conundrum, was basically her giving me a standing ovation. And she was right! It only sucks when you’ve got stupid trousers on with them.
**(Bev has asked me to clarify that she does in fact like my boots, she just didn’t like the trousers I once paired them with)
There’s also a texture element to summer boots I hadn’t realised until I wore them
White boots. Or tan boots. Boots that aren’t made of thick leather suddenly feel a lot more summer appropriate. Don’t get me wrong they’ll still be just as hot as that leather pair, they’re both boots, they sit on your legs. But lighter colours feel airy and summery in a way that black jeans never will. Once I twigged that it was 100% psychological I started noticing it everywhere. I bought a pair of cream suede knee highs, went to a christening dressed in them and a green linen dress and not one person asked me where I was shopping, three asked where the boots were from. Not once has that happened to me wearing my beloved black pair. They’re better made, higher quality boots. But the cream ones got compliments. Because it’s about perception.
I got this rule wrong for ages and wanna apologise to boots about it
Listen if I’m being totally honest here I broke my own rule the other week and knew it. I spent a solid decade thinking boots were a winter-only affair, like some big fashionable bear deciding to hibernate until January. I’d never question that mantra because everywhere I looked other people seemed to think the same. Three summers ago I donated a pair of grey suede knee highs to a charity shop because “I wouldn’t be needing them till next autumn.” and every time I see a donation bag since I immediately thinks of them. Someone is rocking those boots right now and I had them.
To those boots, if they ever read this. I’m sorry. You would have got so much wear with just a few of the dresses I still have. You were suede, they were light, you would have been top of this list. But I was wrong, and you gottin’ got put away. Which sucks. I’m sorry Boot Friend I gave you away.
The final thing that changed my mind was actually looking outside my own head
The real kicker that made me question everything though was seeing other people do it and never being told they were wrong. Festival attendees have been wearing boots through June mud since festivals were invented, no one ever tried to tell Stonehenge they were putting together the wrong outfit. Fashion weeks in actual summer months are riddled with boot wearing editors, not because it’s chilly in Milan come September, it fucking isn’t. But because boots are a style choice, not a temperature dependent decision. I’d never applied it to myself. I’d looked at it on others and loved it, applauded from afar but never dared to do it myself. Teenagery.
So…
Am I cool with wearing boots in summer now? Absolutely. Did I spend way too long being a dick about it? Also yes. Are boots great in summer as long as you pair them with bare legs, breathable materials and thin trousers? 100%. Will I be raiding my winter boots now I know they’re not seasonal? Yes but please be aware that just because I *can* wear them all year now doesn’t mean I *will*. I still won’t wear them when it’s raining, because pants.
