I’m the 49 year old woman who grew up in the village in England where Doc Martens originated. My family worked in the factories, so at 12 years old, I became the girl who “tested out” the designs for new DM styles. I did 10-holes, 12-holes (so many holes!), reds, burnished browns, deep maroons (my fave - made me v cool), chelsea boots, s…
I’m the 49 year old woman who grew up in the village in England where Doc Martens originated. My family worked in the factories, so at 12 years old, I became the girl who “tested out” the designs for new DM styles. I did 10-holes, 12-holes (so many holes!), reds, burnished browns, deep maroons (my fave - made me v cool), chelsea boots, sandals, oxfords, the lot. Being the early 90s, I wore my beloved 8-hole 1460 leathers all the way through school. They saw me through agonising exams, dirty concerts, awkward kisses, Cinzano on the park swings, killer heartbreak, art college parties, grubby British festivals and eventually, to a job in London where they were no longer appropriate to be wearing. Today I live in a belting hot tropical country so my DMs are just a faithful friend I reunite with once a year. We get together and as I lace them up I’m 14 again, knowing exactly how every scratch, dent and blemish on them was made. Being older now, I sprained my ankle the other week stepping off a kerb like a normal person. Would never have bloody happened if I’d been wearing my Doc Martens 😉
I’m the 49 year old woman who grew up in the village in England where Doc Martens originated. My family worked in the factories, so at 12 years old, I became the girl who “tested out” the designs for new DM styles. I did 10-holes, 12-holes (so many holes!), reds, burnished browns, deep maroons (my fave - made me v cool), chelsea boots, sandals, oxfords, the lot. Being the early 90s, I wore my beloved 8-hole 1460 leathers all the way through school. They saw me through agonising exams, dirty concerts, awkward kisses, Cinzano on the park swings, killer heartbreak, art college parties, grubby British festivals and eventually, to a job in London where they were no longer appropriate to be wearing. Today I live in a belting hot tropical country so my DMs are just a faithful friend I reunite with once a year. We get together and as I lace them up I’m 14 again, knowing exactly how every scratch, dent and blemish on them was made. Being older now, I sprained my ankle the other week stepping off a kerb like a normal person. Would never have bloody happened if I’d been wearing my Doc Martens 😉
What a truly fantastic and riveting (and funny) comment. Thank you!!