COLUMN: Tale from the Gravel Ridge – Those unforgettable red boots

The early days of my Rosengard childhood are filled with recycling memories, although that particular word had not yet come into common usage. Within the family, clothes that one individual had outgrown were as a matter of course worn by the next younger person of the same gender.

Of course, there can be no doubt that members of every family in our community engaged in mending clothing that had already seen some rough wear, quite possibly a number of times as circumstances called for such action.

Garments might also be contributed by wealthy families for whom my older siblings or relatives worked. Unfortunately such items, which no doubt were fashionable in their day and of good quality, weren’t necessarily appropriate for farm children. Imagine a young girl wearing a good quality, smartly tailored wool suit that a Winnipeg lady of means had worn in her day. Somehow it didn’t look quite right in the rural setting.

There were at least two second hand stores in Grunthal when I was child. I remember one pair of footwear in particular that came from Mr. Esau’s store. I suppose I must have outgrown the new, brown felt boots that I wore during my first grade at the Rosengard School. They were a sturdy little pair, with a leather tip to protect the toes. I also owned a pair of black overshoes, with a series of buckles that clipped together with the matching part on the opposite side, but they too were no longer available. I needed winter footwear, and Mr. Esau had just the right pair for me.

After all these years, I can’t help but wonder how my boots came to be in Mr. Esau’s store, and who wore them before they got there. Was she just as pleased with them as I was in my day? Did she wear them to places and functions I had never dreamed about? I wonder whether she too has memories of her red, leather boots.

There was nothing commonplace about those boots, and I’d never had anything like them before. Instead of felt, like my brown boots, or cloth, like my overshoes, or even rubber such as the lace-ups we wore in spring, these boots were made of leather. The colour of my new boots was something to rhapsodize about as well. Brown or black might have been alright in the past, but now it was definitely time for something a little more exciting. Oh, they weren’t outrageously bright; just a decent toned down shade of red. I’d never had anything like it before. Complete with a buckle at the side, and pile lining on the inside, my boots were definitely made to order.

By the same token, the items we leave at thrift stores from time to time also have stories of their own when they come to belong to someone else. I don’t expect to find out, nor do I have any need to know. What should be important to all of us however is that we learn not to waste earth’s precious resources. The thrift store is one means to that end. It is part of the circular economy.

According to a Government of Canada website there is no waste in a circular economy; “The circular economy retains and recovers as much value as possible from resources by reusing, repairing, refurbishing, remanufacturing, repurposing, or recycling products and materials”. There is no reason why each of us shouldn’t subscribe to that philosophy in our own individual lives.

The community of my childhood was well versed in reusing and repurposing in many different ways. Taking good care of footwear was of great importance for all of us. Judging by my own experience, I have vivid memories of polishing my shoes on a Saturday evening. However, there was more to that responsibility than merely looking after my own footwear. On Saturday evenings my responsibilities including polishing the shoes of various members of my family. I must say, I didn’t find that task onerous. I suppose the pleasure of seeing shoes freshly cleaned, polished, brushed and finishing off with a final run with a soft cloth, had its own reward.