Flowery Vegetarian Dr Martens

As a goth in the 80s, if I wasn’t wearing black pointy boots with silver skulls for buckles, I wore black Dr Martens. As I became less goth and more indie, I progressed from black and introduced some colour into my wardrobe (only red and purple though, to be honest), which filtered down into my footwear. I had black docs, red docs, red and black docs, silver docs, purple docs and – my favourite ever – bright orange docs.

When I stopped wearing leather, I stopped buying DMs. Vegetarian Shoes in Brighton sold vegetarian ones but they were out of my budget at the time. I started wearing Converse and now have a collection of colours that puts my old DM collection to shame. I’d sort of forgotten about DMs until Cloggs got in touch and asked me to have a look at their website.  As they had a Dr Martens category, I thought I’d have a nose for a bit of nostalgia, then saw these beauties.



The blurb said they were canvas. Eh? Canvas? VEGETARIAN FLOWERY DR MARTENS? I wouldn’t have been seen dead in flowers when I was a goth (actually, that’s not true – a goth would have loved to have been seen dead. That was kind of the point. They just wouldn’t want to be seen wearing flowery shoes.) But I’m no longer a goth and can wear flowers if I want to. So I ordered them and they arrived the next day.


They fit perfectly with plenty of room for my toes but although they’re canvas, they’re just as stiff as I remember leather docs being and will take some breaking in. 


Pretty pretty pretty shoes.


The last two nights I’ve been kept awake feeling anxious about the gas and electricity keys going missing (not that my ex-tenant asked if she could change the meters to key ones in the first place, bah). I posted them to the decorator in my house a week ago but they haven’t turned up. I put £50 on each of them which is money I don’t really want to go missing, plus it means the decorator has had to hire generators which cost fuck knows how much and it also means I’m going to have to cancel the plumber who was coming round tomorrow to look at the broken boiler when I was in London to see the decorator and I don’t want to have to keep making trips to London and yes, blah blah blah, grand scale of things, blah blah blah, starving babies in Africa, blah blah blah, but I’m lying awake thinking about it and I need to be getting on with my four remaining assignments and the dissertation for which deadlines are a-looming and not worrying about meter keys going missing, leaving me with no gas or electricity when I need decorators, plumbers and carpet layers, etc. who probably don’t want to work in the dark. (They’d probably quite like to be able to have a cup of tea, too.) 

Still, when I got up, I remembered running is supposed to be good for stress, so I decided to go for a run. I also had some Teapigs Organic Matcha which apparently Buddhist monks have been drinking for centuries as it stimulates alpha brainwaves to help create a state of mental alertness while keeping you calm and focused at the same time. (If you want to know more about matcha, I blogged about it on my Planet Veggie blog earlier this morning.)

So, with all that running and matcha I should be in a matcha-induced-Buddha-like-blissful-zoned-out-state now, shouldn’t I?

Well, I’m not.

I did quite enjoy the run though, even if, while standing in the front garden staring at my wrist, I was reminded of the picture fairweatherrunner posted on her Facebook wall yesterday in an 80s-Rob-Newman-esque ‘see her? That’s you that is’ kind of way.