At 64, I'd been putting my dresses away every October because I didn't own a single boot I could walk in. This is a letter about the pair that changed that
Six things these soft, knee-high boots get right that a winter of trousers and ankle boots never did, from a Shrewsbury woman who missed her dresses from October to April.
I'm 64, and every year, on the first properly cold morning in October, I do the same sad little job. I take my dresses off the rail, fold them into the blue suitcase, and push it under the bed until April. Then I spend six months in trousers. It isn't that I don't want to wear a dress in winter. It's that I've never owned a boot I could wear with one. The tall ones in the shops all have a heel I'd break my neck on going down Wyle Cop, and the flat ones look like I'm off to muck out a stable. Ankle boots cut my legs off at the worst possible place. So the dresses went under the bed, and I went into trousers. So this is not a review. It's a woman whose suitcase is still under the bed, empty, telling you why.
The boots I'm writing about are the Charlie knee-high boots from Mavira London, a small British boutique that dresses women our age. Mine are the beige, a soft, warm stone colour that goes with absolutely everything. My sister Jean found them, as she finds most things, and sent them with one line: "Unpack the suitcase, Nance." When Mavira London later asked if they could share my letter, I said yes, on the condition I could be completely honest in it.
Here's what I worked out, after thirty-odd winters in trousers. It was never the dresses that didn't work in winter. It was the boots. A dress in October needs something that covers the leg, keeps you warm and lets you walk properly. I'd just never found all three in one pair.
It was never the dresses that didn't work in winter. It was the boots.
The Charlie boots are the first pair I've owned that do all three, and having worn them into town, along the river with Biscuit and to Sunday lunch at the pub, I can tell you it comes down to six things.
Knee-high, so a dress works in October
This is the whole point. The Charlie comes up to just below the knee, so with a midi dress and a pair of tights there's no gap and no bare shin, and you're warm all the way down. It's the look I'd always admired on other women in town and never managed myself. A dress, a cardigan, a good boot. That's it. That's winter sorted.
Navy wool dress, thick tights, the boots. Walked into town for the first time since April in something other than trousers. A lady at the bakery said, "Oh, you look smart." I bought an extra iced bun to celebrate.
A low heel you can actually walk in
The heel is a low, stacked one, just enough to give you a bit of lift and make the boot look elegant, but nothing like the skinny heels I'd been put off by. It's broad and steady, which matters in a town built on a hill. I've been up and down Wyle Cop in them twice and over the cobbles by the castle, and I didn't once have to take Geoff's arm for balance.
Up Wyle Cop with two bags of shopping. At the top I wasn't even out of breath. Well, a bit out of breath. But that was the hill, not the boots.
A soft, slouchy leg that doesn't grip
The leg of the boot is soft and slouches down into gentle folds, rather than standing stiff and tight like a riding boot. I find that far more forgiving. It doesn't grip, it moves when you walk, and it looks relaxed and pretty rather than severe. There's a little strap with a stud at the ankle, and a pull tab at the top, which are the kind of small details that make them look like proper boots and not something from a market stall.
Pub lunch with Jean. Sat for two hours, roast and a crumble. Never once thought about my legs. Jean said, "See? Told you." She is unbearable when she's right.
A full-length zip, so they're on in seconds
There's a zip running all the way down the inside of the leg, which means no hopping round the bedroom tugging a boot over my heel. I sit on the edge of the bed, step in, zip up, done. And inside there's a soft, cushioned insole, so they're comfortable for a whole morning out, not just the walk to the car.
Biscuit's walk along the Severn in the Quarry. Boots on in about ten seconds, which, with a spaniel spinning in circles by the front door, is the only speed that counts.
A soft finish that goes with everything
They have a soft, suede-look finish with a delicate pattern pressed into it, which you only notice up close and which makes them look far more expensive than they were. The beige is the colour of a good stone wall, and it goes with navy, black, camel, grey and denim. I've worn them with dresses, with a skirt, and with jeans tucked in, and they've looked right every time.
Three people have asked where they're from. One of them was the woman from church who once told me my coat was "very practical". I'm counting that as a win.
Four colours, and an honest word on sizing
The Charlie comes in beige, brown, khaki and black. I'll be honest, because I promised I would: the sizes on the page are US sizes, from 4 to 12, and the size guide shows US, Australian and European sizes with the length of your foot in centimetres, but not UK sizes. US sizes usually run about two above UK, so I'm a UK 5 and I ordered a US 7, but the safest thing is to measure your foot and match it to the centimetres in the guide. If you're unsure, ask Mavira London's team before you order. They're happy to help.
Unpacked the blue suitcase. Every dress back on the rail. Geoff carried the empty case up to the loft and said, "Shall I just leave it up there?" Yes, love. You shall.
These, against a winter of trousers
Most of us didn't give up dresses in winter because we wanted to. We gave them up because we had nothing to wear on our feet. Here's the difference, laid out plainly.
Dresses in a suitcase under the bed
Tall boots with heels you can't walk in
Ankle boots that cut your legs off
Stiff boots you wrestle on and off
The same trousers, six months running
Knee-high, so a dress works all winter
A low, stacked heel you can walk in
A soft, slouchy leg that doesn't grip
A full-length zip, on in seconds
Dresses back on the rail
About the price
The Charlie boots are £59.95 at the moment. The website says they're usually £198. I won't pretend I know what a pair of knee-high boots ought to cost, but I can tell you I've spent more than that on boots I could only wear to sit down in.
You can pay securely with PayPal or a card, whichever you prefer.
Delivery was free and tracked across the UK, and there's a 30-day money-back guarantee if they aren't right. For boots, where you can't try them on first, that's what got me to press the button.
you can walk in
to choose
delivery
If you're 55, or 64, or 70, and your dresses are folded in a suitcase under the bed until spring, these are the boots I'd hand you myself, while your size is still there. Unpack the suitcase. Walk into town in a dress.
Nancy
Charlie · Knee-High Low Heel Boots
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- Knee-high, perfect with dresses and skirts
- Low, stacked heel for steady, all-day walking
- Soft, slouchy leg with a strap and stud detail
- Full-length inside zip, on and off in seconds
- Soft, cushioned insole
- Beige, brown, khaki or black · US sizes 4 to 12, with a size guide
- FREE tracked UK delivery & 30-day money-back guarantee
Find the Charlie boots in the collection, alongside the other shoes.
About the writer. Nancy Brooks is 64 and lives in Shrewsbury with her husband Geoff, a spaniel called Biscuit, and a sister, Jean, who never lets her get away with anything. She taught at a primary school for thirty-one years and is now, in her own words, "saying yes to things," including dresses in winter.
This page is an advertisement for Mavira London. Individual experiences may vary. Mavira London · Free tracked UK delivery · 30-day money-back guarantee.