GOOD, HONEST STUFF NEVER GOES OUT OF STYLE, IT JUST GETS FUCKED UP BY THE FORCES OF MASS MARKETING AND ADVERTISING DICKHEADS . . . . IT BECOMES A FAD, THE NEW BIG THING, THE DOMAIN OF HIPSTERS AND FASHION WANNABES . . . . AND THEN IT FADES FROM VIEW AND THE LATEST 'SCENE' TAKES OVER . . . . BUT WHEN THE BUBBLE BURSTS, SOME OF US CONTINUE WEARING THE SAME THREADS, DOING THE SAME SHIT AND BEING THE SAME PEOPLE WE ARE.

"SAY MAN . . . . WHERE'D YOU GET YOUR MULESKINNERS FROM ?" . . . . SAY WHAT ????

TWENTY FIVE YEARS AGO OR THEREABOUTS I GOT A PAIR OF RED WINGS FROM NERANG SADDLERY, I DIDN'T KNOW THEY WERE CALLED 'MULESKINNERS' OR 8113's, THEY WERE JUST GOOD OLD FASHIONED BOOTS AND IN MY PREFERRED FINISH, OILED SUEDE, THEY COST AROUND $100.00 WHICH WAS BIG BICCIES BACK THEN AND WERE COMFY AS ALL GET OUT FROM DAY ONE . . . . SURE ENOUGH, EVERYONE PUT SHIT ON ME FOR WEARING 'SPASTIC' OR 'POLIO' SHOES, ASKED ME WHERE MY CALIPERS WERE, CALLED ME A DORK OR A MYRON AND GENERALLY TOOK THE PISS, THEY LASTED UNTIL THEY LITERALLY ROTTED APART SOMEWHERE IN THE MID NINETIES, I ONLY GOT EM IN THE FIRST PLACE BECAUSE THE LEGENDARY AND SIMILAR AUSSIE 'T-BOOT' LACE UP I WAS LOOKING FOR WASN'T AVAILABLE ON THE DAY . . . . ME AND CHOOK NEVER GOT THE WHOLE 'COLORADO'/'TIMBERLAND' SCHTICK THAT WAS RAPIDLY BECOMING THE THING TO BE SEEN IN BY THE OFFICE JOHNNY CROWD AND THE SURFIE BOY ELEMENT, WE WERE INTO BIKES AND CARS AND FUCKING ABOUT WITH EM, NOT LOOKIN LIKE SOME GANGSTA RAP DUDE WITH BAGGIES AND BUTT-CRACK . . . . AND THEY WERE TIMELESS, FUNCTIONAL, COOL SHIT, WE KNEW IT AND THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERED, FUCK EVERYONE ELSE.

PAIR #3 . . . . APPARENTLY THEY'RE CALLED 'MULESKINNERS' NOT BOOTS . . . . FUCK ME !!!

NOWADAYS THERE ARE BLOGS ABOUT EM, EVERYONE'S WEARIN THEIR WINGS, THE LOFTIEST SCOOT RIDIN GODS TO THE LOWLIEST TRY HARDS, YOU'RE EITHER A HERO OR A ZERO DEPENDING ON WHO'S MAKING THE CALL, APPARENTLY IT'S BEEN DECREED I'M NOW A HIPSTER, WHEREAS BACK IN THE LATE EIGHTIES I WAS A DWEEB OR A DORK FOR WEARING THE EXACT SAME BOOTS . . . . I SURELY DIDN'T WEAR EM FIRST, BUT NEITHER DID THE SELF PROCLAIMED ARBITERS OF CONTEMPORARY COOL AND HARDCORE, THE NEW JACK CITY BIKER BOY CHIC CLIQUE, THE SELVEDGE DENIM SECRET POLICE, THE INNER SANCTUM OF THOSE WHO HOLD THE DIVINE RIGHT OF THE SPIRIT OF THE SIXTIES, NO MAN, FUCK YOU AND THE BOOTS YOU WALKED IN ON . . . . I WONDER IF ALL THE DUDES OUT IN THE BOONIES AND THE BACKWOODS, ALL THE OLD TIMER MECHANICS AND GREASERS ARE FEELING JUST A LITTLE RIPPED OFF OVER THE LAST FIFTEEN, TWENTY YEARS, THEY'RE THE ONES WHO WERE TRADITIONALLY  HOOFIN IT ON RED WINGS AND CHIPPEWAS, T-BOOTS AND BLUNDSTONES . . . . YEAH, WE'RE ALL JUST CHEAP, COPIEST WHORES IN THE END, NOTHING'S NEW, NOTHING BELONGS TO US . . . . AND YOU DON'T GET TO STAND ON TOP OF YOUR OWN LITTLE MOUNTAIN PROCLAIMING  ORIGINAL, HOLIER THAN THOU, SELF RIGHTEOUSNESS WITHOUT GIVING YOURSELF AWAY AS JUST ANOTHER PHONY, PHAKE, PHASHION PHOLLOWING PHUCK . . . . COME ON DOWN BEFORE YOU FALL AND HURT YOUR PERIOD CORRECT PERFECT POSTERIOR.