The first time I tried on a pair of Dr Martens was out of necessity.
I was a young teenager visiting my cousins in Chicago for a few days when it started raining nonstop. It was clear that the single pair of sneakers I brought with me would be no match for the wet city streets we planned to trudge around in all weekend. So my aunt suggested I borrow a pair of rain boots — they had plenty, after all.
She handed me a pair of stiff, leather Docs that were at least two sizes too big and felt so heavy compared to any of the cheap shoes I owned at that age. (My favorite places to shop back then were Payless and Famous Footwear, where I picked up so many pairs of crappy, discounted ballet flats and Keds-like sneakers that there’s still a pile somewhere in my mom’s house today.)
Seeing that Docs were my best (and most waterproof) option for a rainy weekend, I decided to give them a shot. They were uncomfortable before I even left the house, but I figured it was better than wearing sneakers like my aunt insisted.
Walking around, I felt like a horse with untrimmed hooves. I clomped awkwardly due to the fact that the boots felt clunky and frankly didn’t fit me right. Plus, they were making my feet hurt. Horrible blisters formed near both my ankles, and there was nothing I could do to stop the pain until we got back home. But hey, at least my feet didn’t get wet?
I grew to believe that Docs were the most uncomfortable shoes on the planet. My young teen self had no interest in ever trying them on again, much less buying a pair.
But with age came wisdom, and I started to change my attitude when I noticed many of my college peers wore Docs all the time. Was I missing the hype?
Eventually I tried them on again at an actual Dr Martens store (in Portland, Oregon, to boot), and warmed up to the idea of maybe, just maybe, investing in a pair. Leather seemed too stiff and menacing, so I eventually settled on some canvas Combs boots. (They basically look like a standard 8-eye lace-up combat boot made of the same type of canvas you’d see on a sneaker.)
I LOVED those boots. I wore them everywhere, all the time, more than any of my sneakers or flats. They went with virtually everything I owned and kept my feet secure and blister-free on long days racing across campus and trekking around Milwaukee.
My only complaint was their lack of waterproof-ness, so I started to reconsider my stance on leather. I knew it was easier to care for and waterproof a leather boot, and that they tended to last longer than canvas. And now that I was at a point where I trusted the quality of Docs, I was ready to give them a try.
In 2020, I took the plunge and got a pair of brown, grainy leather 1460s, which is about as classic of a style as you can get with Docs. We’re talking classic combat boots that lace in the front — pretty much the same style as the Combs, but with leather.
It was another home run. The 1460s were soft enough to break in on a relatively short timetable, and once they molded to my feet I couldn’t seem to take them off.
I wore my 1460s everywhere, so much that they replaced my Combs entirely. (I eventually handed them down to my sister when she started college a few years ago.)
Once I realized that leather Docs were my new favorite thing, I wanted to get a second pair in a different color. So in 2022, I started shopping around on resale sites to find some in white.
I bought a virtually brand new pair of 1460s from Poshmark at a decent price. But the excitement of a good deal didn’t last when I opened the box.
The leather was paper thin, unlike my first pair of leather Docs. And when I tried wearing the boots out, they pinched my feet in silly ways, which I think was due to the fact that they were specifically a “women’s” style (my first pair was men’s/unisex).
I hated the boots so much that I wore them for a handful of photos and then sold them a few months later.
And then, as if that hadn’t been a bad enough experience, my beloved brown 1460s just split in the sole. Like, literally last week.
Of course I’m pissed! Those boots were ones I intended to wear for years to come, and I desperately did not want to buy a replacement. Sure, my boots have plenty of wear on the soles, but not nearly enough to justify sending them off to a shoe recycling facility (which I plan to do eventually rather than just toss them out).
So last week, I did two things: I took my broken Docs to a local cobbler, and then started researching better replacements.
The cobbler told me that it was possible to try gluing the sole of my boot back together, but it wasn’t a guaranteed fix. Most Docs can’t be resoled because the outsole is glued directly to the insole. You can’t take the sole off without basically destroying the entire boot. (This is also the case for most shoes these days; companies want you to buy a new pair rather than repairing what you have. It’s peak throwaway culture.)
And the rubber they use on Docs tends to be inconsistent, as the cobbler explained. Sometimes when he tries to glue soles back together, they stick, but other times they don’t. I have yet to see if mine stuck back together, since I just got word that my boots are done and I’m going to pick them up this week.
In the meantime, I’d been looking into boots that can be resoled, since it’s frankly just wasteful to throw out an entire pair of shoes when the soles wear out or split. Many brands that carry resoleable shoes (often called Goodyear welted shoes) are very expensive — like Red Wing boots, which are around $300 a pair.
It’s a great investment, but one I’m just not able to make at the moment. So I needed to find something middle-of-the-road that was as comfy as my old boots, and ideally could last beyond their original soles.
However, I didn’t want to buy another pair of Docs. I’d been burned twice and I didn’t want it to happen again.
And I’m not the only one who’s experienced disappointment with the brand. The sad thing about Docs is that their quality has been declining for years, at least according to many, many Reddit comments and articles. It makes sense — the company was sold to a private equity firm in 2013 and has since moved the majority of their production out of the traditional English factories they did business with for decades.
They stopped offering a lifetime warranty on their boots in 2016, which does not tell me that they’re just sooooo confident in the quality of their footwear that things will never have to be replaced. Rather, they probably know it’s gotten worse, since an influx of busted boots would mean more repairs for the company, and thus, less profits.
However, I did remember that a factory that once made the original Docs actually still makes boots. They do it under the name Solovair, selling a nearly identical pair to my beloved 1460s. A friend told me about this years ago, and I tucked that info away until the day I’d need it — which was sometime last week.
So, I took the plunge and bought some Solovairs. They were affordable ($150 on sale), resoleable (Goodyear welted), and familiar. And, honestly, the quality seems a step above my old Docs in the leather, soles, and construction details.
I haven’t broken in the Solovairs yet, so I’m not ready to swear by the brand. But I already think they’re a great alternative to Docs if you’re looking for the same classic style with a Goodyear welt.
I’m a firm believer that it’s my responsibility to take care of my shoes, and that a well-loved pair can last a lifetime. That’s a whole lot easier to do when the brands I buy from actually enable me to do that.
I hope my Solovairs live up to the promise that my Docs couldn’t keep.