Opium Leather Boots | A Letter from Helen
A LETTER FROM HELEN
AT 62, I FINALLY FOUND ANKLE BOOTS I DO NOT HAVE TO SUFFER IN
Two women at the Saturday market asked me where they were from. My sister pretended to be cross about it. This is the whole story.
By the front door, the first morning I wore them. I nearly put my old ones on out of habit.
I have never written one of these before, and at 62 I am not usually the woman telling other people what they ought to wear.
It started with a pair of boots.
My wardrobe is mostly sensible. Navy, cream, grey, and enough jeans and trousers to see me through several Newcastle winters. Somewhere along the way, comfortable had quietly become another word for shoes that made me disappear.
For years my shoes came in two piles. The smart pair that pinched by lunchtime and only came out of the box for weddings. And the comfortable pair I wore everywhere, which looked exactly as comfortable as they were.
Then my sister Ann came over for Sunday lunch in a pair of ankle boots. Nothing loud. A clean square toe, a neat little heel and a round buckle on the front that made them look considered. She was on her feet in my kitchen all afternoon and never once kicked them off under the table, which for Ann is a small miracle.
I asked her where they were from before we had got to the pudding. She told me, a little smugly, that they were the Opium boots from Rovelle's Closet, a small boutique I had never heard of.
I ordered the brown pair that evening, half-expecting them to look better on her than they would on me.
You do not stop wanting to feel lovely because you get older. You simply get tired of shoes that ask you to suffer for it.
THE FIRST TIME I WORE THEM MYSELF
I wore mine on the Saturday with my usual jeans and a soft jumper. No special outfit. No attempt to look younger.
The square toe gave my feet room, and the stretch panel meant I could pull them on without sitting on the bottom stair wrestling with a zip. The heel gave me a little lift without making me feel unsteady on the cobbles.
Jeans, my cream jumper and the brown pair. Nothing I would not have worn anyway.
WHAT HAPPENED AT THE MARKET
I had been walking round the Saturday market for the best part of an hour when a woman at the cheese stall looked down and asked, plainly, where my boots were from. Ten minutes later a second woman stopped me by the flower stall and asked the same thing.
I have worn sensible shoes for forty years and nobody has ever asked me about them. Twice in one morning felt like rather a lot.
What I noticed most came later. Halfway through the afternoon I realised I had not thought about my feet once. I had not loosened anything, changed the way I was walking or wondered whether I would make it home before they started to pinch. That sounds like a small thing until you have spent years quietly negotiating with shoes.
When I told Ann, she said I had copied her. She has since forgiven me, more or less.
The buckle is what people notice. The soft footbed is what keeps me wearing them.
THREE THINGS I HAVE LEARNT SINCE
One. A square toe can look modern without looking severe. It gives the foot room and works with jeans, skirts and dresses alike.
Two. A small heel is enough. It gives an outfit some shape and a bit of lift, and it is still sensible for errands, the bus into town and a long afternoon.
Three. The details matter. The knitted stretch panel makes them easy to get on, the buckle gives them character and the flexible sole means they never feel stiff.
Outside the café after church, with my grey wool skirt. Ann took this because, for once, I was not fidgeting with my feet.
THE OPIUM, AGAINST THE BOOTS IN MY HALL CUPBOARD
| My old boots | The Opium | |
|---|---|---|
| The look | Smart and stiff, or comfortable and frumpy | Polished square toe and a round buckle |
| Getting them on | Sitting on the stairs with a zip | Knitted stretch panel, on in seconds |
| The heel | Flat, or something to concentrate on | A steady mid heel with a little lift |
| By the afternoon | Loosened, or swapped for slippers | Cushioned footbed and a flexible sole |
| What they go with | One outfit, if you are lucky | Jeans, trousers, skirts and dresses |
ABOUT THE PRICE
I will be honest, the price made me suspicious. The Opium boots were £129.95, and in Rovelle's Closet's clearance they are £44.95. A mark-down like that is usually where I start asking what is wrong with something.
So I read the reviews before I ordered. There are more than 7,000 of them, averaging 4.7 out of 5, and the same things kept coming up: comfortable from the first wear, easy to get on, and more compliments than people expected. A few weeks in, I have not found the catch either.
They come in black and brown, in UK sizes 2.5 to 6.5. I chose brown because it goes with the navy, cream and denim I already own.
WHAT I WOULD TELL YOU IF WE WERE FRIENDS
If your cupboard is full of shoes that are either comfortable or presentable, but never both, I would not tell you to replace the lot.
I would start with one pair that is sensible enough for an ordinary Tuesday, and makes you look a little more put together when you catch yourself in a shop window.
For me, that was the Opium. And Ann, if you are reading this: yes, I know you found them first.
I did not need a new shoe collection. I needed one pair that made the old wardrobe feel like mine again.
Helen
THE OPIUM ANKLE BOOTS
£129.95 £44.95
- Polished leather-look finish with a round buckle
- Square toe that gives your feet room
- Knitted stretch panel, easy to pull on
- Cushioned footbed, flexible sole and a steady mid heel
- Black or brown · UK 2.5–6.5 (EU 35–40)
- Free UK delivery · 30-day money-back guarantee
Clearance price, while sizes last.
Rovelle's Closet · Free UK delivery · 30-day money-back guarantee. This page is an advertisement for Rovelle's Closet.