Life

Anton Savage: It’s ‘do not resuscitate’ time for my old boots, and I’m not coping well

After two decades of faithful service my boots are facing oblivion, and that’s bad news for a sentimentalist like me

‘Each repair has made my boots unique; no other pair is like them. They bear scars that link to memories; one scrape came from a hike in Glenmalure, one gouge from a fall in Glendalough.’ Picture: Getty

I am deeply saddened by the prospect of new boots. My current pair are dying and this time I don’t think emergency medicine can help. They’ve given me scares before; there was the time the sole on the right one parted from the toe and flapped up and down like the tongue of an overheated Labrador.

Then there was the time the heels wore so low they looked like ballet slippers. But every time, my cobbler ...