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I had waited with eager anticipation for the coming of my Amazon arrival. The postman struggled under the enormity of the weight of the package, but managed to stumble red faced to the door step. I beamed from ear to ear, like a cheshire cat after consuming a can of condensed milk. After singlehandedly demolishing the cardboard box, I relished my moment alone with my gleaming red treasures. Pulling them free from the cardboard carcass, I held them to the light for further inspection. My first ever pair of Doc Martens.
I eagerly shoved my hobbit hooves into the shoes, and laced them tightly. Wow, how cool was I? How uniformly aesthetically pleasing I looked. In my red shoes I felt as glam as the witch from the Wizard of Oz before the house landed on her and ruptured all her internal organs. No Dorothy would steal my docs from me! 100 Euro?! My corpse would be wearing them indefinitely.
I was warned that the first few days would be challenging. “Breaking them in” would be no easy feat, but it was a challenge I was willing to face. Nobody had disclosed how truly traumatic the experience would be. On the first day I waddled to UCD, my flat, arch-less feet feeling unsupported. By the third day my heels were but bone and muscle, blood poured like rivers, I cried to the heavens..FATHER WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?!
I remembered how cool I looked, and hobbled on. The Passion of Christ.
By the seventh day my toes had transformed from bone to bunion.. I decided to research the provenance of these fashionable torture devices. Surely someone must have tested the potential ergonomic realities of the contraptions I now wore on my feet.
I limped to the library in search of answers. Deep in the recesses of the dusty archives I sourced the truth; The memoirs of Doctor Klaus Marten himself.
Doctor Marten was a prominent member of the german army and a doctor during world war two. Upon noting the influx of Nazi’s suffering from bouts of foot rot and blistering he decided the strongest shoe the world had ever seen would need to be produced.
Sure enough the hideous contraption once made from tyres, was placed upon the soldiers feet and injuries significantly lessened. (Except minor athletes foot and the occasional ingrown toenail).
The Nazi’s paraded about with pride until unfortunately for them the Allies crashed the party. Upon rounding up and capturing them, they noted their exquisite fashion sense and flamboyant foot wear. The soldiers had been sworn to secrecy but decided eventually to rat their former colleague out. The allies found Doctor Marten and condemned him to a life of shoe production for British soldiers.
Doctor Klaus seethed with rage, and sought to avenge the fall of the Third Reich via his new brand of footwear Doctor Martens.
“I WILL MAKE SHOES FOR THE SWINES, NO FASHION IS WITHOUT SUFFERING RIGHT?”
(Evil German laughter).
So it began, Doctor Klaus Marten created a range of the most subtlety painful yet fashionable shoes the globe had ever seen.
Sadly due to increased globalisation, commodification and a consumer driven society It wasn’t just the Allies whom were forced to suffer. The mass production of the shoes began and came in a variety of ranges and colours from “Blood Red” to “Black Soul” the shoes flew off the shelves. Doctor Klaus became one of the richest business men gracing the earth.
“I DON’T UNDERSTAND?! I MADE THE SHOES FROM THE HIDE OF THE HARDIEST HEIFER, I LINED THE SOLES WITH NAILS, IRON TOE CAPS, LEAD INFUSED LEATHER… I CAN NOT COMPREHEND HOW THEY HAVE BROUGHT JOY?! SCHEISSE!!”
The final nail in Doctor Marten’s coffin came with the influx of the ecogothic revolution. A group of pale faced rebellious teenagers sought the shoes, and succumbed to a commodity driven frenzy. The rest of the population followed in their wake.
The momentous pain and suffering brought by the shoes, allowed the goths to truly revel in their own misery and inspired another more radical movement, what was colloquially known as the “Emo Movement”. The congregation of emos wore the shoes, ensuring their children, and their children’s children would also suffer the same fate for the emo cause.
Now due to the unintentional contribution of Dr Marten, the young ruffians can truly experience pain within the parameters of their otherwise conventional lives..For time immemorial there will forever be pale faced youths with sad expressions and sore feet.