An illustrated letter about autumn comfort

At 67, I had six warm cardigans for autumn and not one pair of shoes I wanted to put on in the morning. My daughter noticed.

Last Saturday morning, my daughter Claire came over just as I was making the first pot of tea.

It was one of those proper Texas autumn mornings. The leaves outside the kitchen window had turned gold, the air had that unmistakable October chill, and the wooden floor felt cold enough that I was considering putting another pair of socks on.

Claire found me standing beside the kettle in thick socks, my old slippers sitting under the kitchen table.

She looked at the cardigan I'd wrapped around myself, then at my feet.

"Mom, how many cardigans do you own now?"

I told her I didn't see what that had to do with anything.

She laughed and started counting the ones hanging over the kitchen chairs.

There were three in that room alone.

Then she pointed at the slippers.

"You've bought something warm for every part of your body except your feet."

I laughed.

But later, after she'd gone, I realized she had a point.

I had spent years preparing for autumn with cardigans, scarves, heavier pants and soft blankets.

Yet every morning I was still reaching for the same tired slippers that had lost most of their softness.

I'd made the whole house cozy for autumn. Somehow I'd forgotten about the two things carrying me around it.

It's such an ordinary little problem that I almost feel silly writing about it.

But I suspect other women my age will understand.

You don't necessarily notice when something that used to be comfortable has stopped being comfortable.

You simply keep using it because it's familiar.

At sixty-seven, I had become very good at doing exactly that.

I'm not someone who wants to buy a new wardrobe every time the weather changes.

Quite the opposite.

I like keeping things simple.

But there's something to be said for looking at the things you use every day and asking whether they're still doing the job you bought them for.

And my old slippers were beginning to fail that test.

How I became so particular about cold mornings

I've lived through enough Texas autumns to know what to expect.

September is lovely.

Early October still gives you some beautiful afternoons.

Then one morning you get out of bed and suddenly remember exactly how cold the floors can feel.

I used to enjoy that first proper autumn chill.

I'd make tea, open the curtains and watch the trees changing color across the street.

There is something lovely about the way Dallas looks at this time of year.

But lately, I had developed a rather tiresome little routine.

I'd get out of bed, pull on thick socks and search for whichever slippers I'd left in the living room the night before.

Then, if I needed to step outside to collect something from the porch, I'd go and find another pair of shoes.

And when I came back inside, I'd change again.

It seemed perfectly normal because I'd been doing it for years.

But the more I thought about it, the less sensible it seemed.

My slippers were soft enough for the bedroom, but they weren't something I particularly wanted to wear beyond the house.

My proper outdoor shoes were fine for longer outings, but rather more than I needed for a quick trip to the mailbox.

And the warm winter boots were still packed away.

October hadn't quite become boot weather every day.

I was stuck somewhere in between.

Which, now that I think about it, is exactly where so much of autumn seems to happen.

What I had wrong about staying warm

I had assumed the answer was more socks.

Thicker socks.

Warmer socks.

Wool socks that my sister had given me for Christmas and that I'd been saving because they were apparently too nice for ordinary mornings.

But I was missing something rather obvious.

The footwear itself mattered.

Not just whether it covered my feet, but what was inside it.

Was there a lining?

Was it easy to put on?

Did it have a proper sole?

Would I feel comfortable wearing it around the house and for a small errand outside?

Those were the questions I ought to have been asking.

Instead, I had been buying more socks and hoping the old slippers would somehow improve.

Claire thought this was hilarious when I told her.

"Mom, you wouldn't keep wearing a coat once the lining had worn out."

She was right.

And I decided that perhaps my feet deserved a little more consideration than I'd been giving them.

The oatmeal pair I kept looking at

A few evenings later, I was browsing Novira Dallas when I came across a pair called Leslie.

The full name was Leslie Comfort Cushioned Non-Slip Ankle Boots.

Now, I should say that the photographs looked much more like cozy, low slip-on boots than the heavy ankle boots I normally associate with winter.

And that's what appealed to me.

They had a lovely soft oatmeal-colored exterior, with a thick cream lining around the opening.

There was visible stitching running around the front and sides, giving them a slightly traditional, moccasin-like appearance.

And underneath was a brown sole that looked more substantial than the thin soles on my old slippers.

I liked the color immediately.

Not stark white.

Not a pale shade I'd worry about every time I stepped outside.

Just a gentle oatmeal color that reminded me of the wool blankets I keep on the sofa.

And the lining looked wonderfully inviting.

But what interested me most was the shape.

They were slip-ons.

No laces to tie before making breakfast.

No complicated fastenings.

Just a warm-looking pair of everyday shoes that I could imagine leaving near the bedroom door.

I spent quite a while looking at the photographs.

Partly because I liked the color.

But mostly because I could imagine exactly where I would wear them.

In the kitchen first thing in the morning.

While making tea.

On a quick trip to the porch.

Or when Claire arrived unexpectedly and suggested we go out for a few things.

Nothing particularly grand.

Just the ordinary moments that fill most of my days.

The details that made me look twice

At sixty-seven, I've become rather particular about everyday shoes.

Not because I'm trying to find something fashionable.

But because I know exactly which small inconveniences I'm no longer interested in putting up with.

I don't want heavy shoes around the house.

I don't want to spend five minutes tying laces for a quick errand.

And I don't want something with a lovely soft lining if the sole underneath isn't suitable for the surfaces I expect to walk on.

The Leslie appealed to me because it brought several of those things together.

Novira Dallas describes cushioning designed to follow the movement of the foot, a warm plush lining and a textured, slip-resistant outsole.

Those sounded like useful everyday features to consider.

Of course, a slip-resistant sole isn't a promise that you'll never slip, especially on ice or untreated winter paths.

And I wouldn't treat a soft-looking shoe as a replacement for proper winter footwear when the weather becomes severe.

But for the cool autumn days I had in mind, the overall design was interesting.

The lining for warmth.

The slip-on opening for convenience.

The low, practical-looking shape.

And the neutral color that would work with almost everything I wear around the house.

I've never needed my everyday shoes to be particularly exciting.

I like a little detail, of course.

But mostly I want things that make sense for the way I actually live.

And that was what I thought about when I looked at the Leslie.

The first cold morning I thought differently about shoes

A few mornings later, the temperature had dropped again.

There was mist over the yard, and I could see leaves scattered across the front walk when I opened the curtains.

I made tea, put on my favorite cardigan and thought about how much of my morning routine depended on simply feeling comfortable.

Nothing dramatic.

Just being able to get out of bed, walk into the kitchen and start the day without feeling I needed to dress for an entire winter.

That was really what had sent me looking for different footwear.

Not a pair of boots for hiking.

Not something for deep snow.

Something for the ordinary stretch of autumn when the house is chilly, the mornings are cool and you still have little errands to do.

I'd spent years preparing for those mornings with cardigans and warm socks.

It was rather satisfying to pay attention to the shoes themselves for a change.

What happened when Claire came over again

The next time Claire visited, she arrived with a bag of groceries and a story about something her youngest had done at school.

She put the groceries on the kitchen counter, made herself a cup of tea and noticed the oatmeal boots nearby.

"Are those the ones you were looking at?"

I told her they were.

She picked one up and looked at the cream lining.

"Well, they certainly look cozier than your old slippers."

I told her that had been the whole idea.

She turned the boot over and looked at the sole.

Then she asked whether I'd checked the sizing.

I told her I had looked at the size guide before choosing.

She seemed rather pleased with that answer.

My daughter has become very good at reminding me to check things properly before ordering online.

And I suppose she has a point.

Footwear is one of those purchases where even a lovely design needs to fit the person wearing it.

A plush lining can change how a shoe feels around the foot.

And it's always worth considering whether you'll wear thick socks with it.

Those details matter.

Especially when you're buying something you hope to wear regularly.

The little autumn outing I had been looking forward to

Later that week, Claire invited me to meet her for coffee.

There was a little place near the shops that we'd been meaning to visit for ages.

Nothing fancy.

Just somewhere pleasant to sit for an hour and have a proper catch-up.

It was exactly the kind of autumn afternoon I enjoy.

The trees along the street were turning orange and gold, and people were beginning to wear their heavier jackets again.

I put on my gray pants, a cream sweater and a warm cardigan.

The sort of combination I've worn every October for years.

And I liked having the idea of a simple, cozy pair of slip-on shoes to go with those things.

Not something that demanded an entirely new outfit.

Just a practical, warm-looking style that worked with the clothes I already owned.

We had coffee and talked about the usual family things.

The grandchildren.

What we were going to do over the holidays.

Whether I'd managed to finish sorting the closets upstairs.

I told Claire I'd made very little progress on the closets.

She said that sounded about right.

And we laughed.

There's something lovely about those ordinary afternoons.

You don't necessarily remember what you ordered or exactly what you talked about.

But you remember having a pleasant time together.

That's what I look forward to now.

Not grand plans.

Just being ready to enjoy the smaller things without turning every outing into a complicated event.

Three things I've learned about autumn footwear after 65

One. Warmth starts with the things you actually wear every day. I spent years collecting cardigans and scarves while making do with old slippers. It makes sense to consider the lining, fit and sole of everyday footwear as well.

Two. Convenience matters more than I used to admit. I appreciate a straightforward slip-on design for ordinary mornings and quick errands. Not every shoe needs to be a heavy boot with complicated fastenings.

Three. The right shoe depends on the conditions. A cozy slip-on can be appealing for cool, relatively dry autumn days, but that doesn't make it suitable for every surface or for icy winter weather. It's worth choosing footwear for where you'll actually be walking.

That last one is particularly important here in Texas.

Autumn is one thing.

An icy January morning is quite another.

And I don't expect one pair of soft-lined shoes to do the job of every kind of winter boot.

But there's a long stretch of weather in between summer and deep winter.

And those are the days I was thinking about.

Why I chose oatmeal

The Leslie comes in several colors.

Oatmeal, brown, gray and black.

I considered the darker shades.

Black is certainly practical, and I own plenty of black shoes already.

But there was something about the oatmeal that I liked immediately.

It's a lovely soft neutral, almost the color of a warm wool sweater.

And the cream lining makes it look especially cozy.

It goes naturally with beige, gray, denim and all the knitted things I seem to wear during autumn.

That matters to me.

I don't want to build an entirely new wardrobe around a pair of shoes.

I want something that works with what I already own.

And the oatmeal seems particularly suited to the sort of quiet, comfortable clothes I wear most often.

It reminds me of the soft blankets we bring out when the evenings become cooler.

Not particularly glamorous.

Just warm, gentle colors that make a home feel inviting.

About the price

I want to be straightforward about the price because it's something I always check before ordering online.

Novira Dallas currently lists the Leslie Comfort Cushioned Non-Slip Ankle Boots at $64.95 USD, with a displayed comparison price of $149.00 USD.

That's an advertised saving of approximately fifty-six percent.

It's a substantial discount, and I think it's sensible to look at the actual product rather than buying something simply because the price has been reduced.

The Leslie is described as having a plush, warm lining, cushioning designed for everyday wear, a textured slip-resistant outsole and a quick slip-on opening.

There are four color choices.

The product page lists sizes from 5.5 through 10.5, including half sizes.

I would recommend checking the size guide before ordering, especially if you plan to wear thicker socks.

Every foot is different, and a soft lining doesn't automatically mean a shoe will suit everybody.

The store also lists free tracked delivery throughout the United States.

According to its current information, orders are usually prepared within one to two business days and typically arrive seven to fourteen business days after ordering.

There is a thirty-day return period from delivery, subject to the store's return conditions.

I'd read those conditions before purchasing, as I would with any footwear order.

For me, the appeal is in the combination of the warm lining, the slip-on shape and the simple oatmeal color.

It's an understated design that seems suited to the quieter, everyday moments of autumn.

And after years of putting up with worn-out slippers, that is exactly the kind of detail I have begun paying attention to.

What I would tell you if we were friends

If you and I were sitting in my kitchen with a cup of tea between us, and you told me that you loved the autumn but always seemed to be cold first thing in the morning, I'd understand completely.

I have spent years doing the same thing.

Adding another cardigan.

Putting on thicker socks.

Pulling a blanket around my shoulders when I sat down to read.

And all the while, I kept wearing the same old slippers that had lost most of their softness.

I didn't think about replacing them properly because they were familiar.

And familiarity can be a powerful thing.

Sometimes we keep using something long after we've stopped particularly enjoying it.

But at sixty-seven, I'm beginning to think there's no great virtue in making ordinary life more inconvenient than it needs to be.

If you're looking for a cozy, low slip-on shoe for the cooler months, the Leslie is worth taking a look at.

Look at the photographs.

Check the lining and sole.

Compare the measurements with footwear you already own.

And think about where you'll actually wear it.

It won't be right for every woman.

And it certainly shouldn't be treated as a replacement for proper winter footwear when the paths are icy.

But for cool autumn days and everyday indoor comfort, I can understand why the combination of warmth and an easy slip-on shape would appeal.

I've spent enough years preparing for October with cardigans, scarves and blankets.

Perhaps it's time to give my everyday shoes the same attention.

Claire has already told me she's glad I've finally considered something warmer than my old slippers.

I told her she didn't need to look quite so pleased with herself.

She laughed.

Daughters do enjoy being right.

But on this occasion, I think she may have had a point.

At 67, I've decided that making autumn cozy shouldn't stop at the cardigan. The little things we put on every day deserve some thought too.

Catharine