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Another secret about this blog is that 95% of the time when I go to bed, I have in mind what I am going to wear the next day and 95% of the time, when I go to actually get dressed, I wear something completely different. I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

Today was no exception. I woke up to an unexpected dusting of snow, and subsequently scrapped a springier outfit. No matter though, because I finally had an excuse to wear one of my most prized possessions as of late – my ugly bird boots!

 

 The rest of my outfit is pretty unimportant. Blah, blah layers. Blah, blah scarf. But my boots! Oh my belovedly tacky bird boots! How I love you so. These things were a Christmas present. To myself. The minute I saw them, I knew they were going to be the silver lining to my ugly Colorado winter. Not only do they function well in snow but… THEY HAVE BIRDS ON THEM!

The husband makes tremendous fun of me for my love of bird things. He’s justified, I suppose. Because the truth is that I really do hate actual birds. But pictures of birds on things? LOVE. Love, love, love, love, love. I have a least a half a dozen bird necklaces, one shirt with a bird on it, bird decorations on the wall above my desk and yes, these boots.

I didn’t always hate real birds. Growing up, my family owned several as pets. And I did very much enjoy looking at my blue parakeet, Willy (as in Free) sitting pretty in his cage. We also had two cute zebra finches that my brother and I dubbed Mike and Ike. Mike and Ike did little besides peep and hop. The trouble began only when my mother thought we might further domesticate Willy and teach him to hang out outside his cage. It was a good idea in theory, I guess. A bird that could sit politely on one’s shoulder while reading a book, would have been tres chic.

Unfortunately Willy had other ideas. Unlike his namesake, Willy did not take to freedom with such grace. Rather, he’d hop timidly around the entrance to the cage, realize the coast was clear and then fly around the house like a bat out of hell. Stopping only to perch on the most out of reach perch he could find. Much drama would ensue. Eventually, my mother would manage to lure Willy back into his rightful habitat but I’m not really sure how. I was usually hiding somewhere with my head under a pillow.

Other birds that have traumatized me since then include the flock of Canada geese that lived in our first apartment complex and liked to hiss at me (and/or chase me to my car) every morning, the obese pigeons of the San Antonio riverwalk and any seagull that threatens to get within several feet of my beach towel. Birds chirping happily from a distance are fine. Birds that seem even remotely capable of touching me are not.

And so it goes. I may not have much love for winged things in real life, but when it comes to apparel I play host to a veritable flock. I don’t really know why. I just know I love these boots.

Cream tunic top – Work
Turquoise flyaway – 5.7.9
Purple leggings – Work
Brown long sleeve – Work
Scarf – Wet Seal
Necklace – F21
Boots – Old Navy

Title courtesy of Sufjan Stevens – “Majesty, Snowbird”

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