The Dubarry boots bite the dust

Three days ago my Dubarry boots died. They are being shipped in a golden sarcophagus to Tombstone, Arizona, to be buried on Boot Hill with all ceremony. 

No, I'm only kidding about the shipment. They ae actually resting in my landfill bin. I thought of salvaging the softer light tan leather for other uses, but I decided that it wasn't worth the effort. After fifteen years' service, it was just too shabby. These boots, after all, had seen a lot of use, and had been no stranger to mud and water. They were really stylish country wear, and not meant for city streets. Posh wellies, if you like; not slinky fashion boots.

I first became aware of them when visiting Tunbridge Wells in June 2011. There was a country clothing and footwear shop near the Pantiles, and the staff inside were wearing these boots. They looked very nice. I was impressed. But they were very expensive and I held back on buying. I promised myself, however, that one day I would treat myself to a pair. Then I saw them on the feet of a lady - clearly a well-off grandmother, out with her grandchildren - at Studland on the Isle of Purbeck in Dorset. This was later in September 2011. I was hooked. I would somehow find the money for them. 

So on 6th October 2011, I walked into Aston Bourne (a country clothing and footwear shop in the Brighton Lanes - the place where I later bought my navy blue Barbour jacket in July 2021) and placed an order for a pair of Dubarry's 'Galway' boots, the ones I wanted. I paid £332. That included some boot cream, so I'm guessing the boots themselves must have cost £329. That was a lot back in 2011. They came in on 14th October 2011. I abandoned what I was doing on that day, collected them, and brought them home.

Once home, and out of their packaging, I had no buyer's regret. They looked great.

I soon put them through their paces, in a variety of outdoor locations. They had to cope with wet weather and various kinds of mire. I felt I could tread anywhere with them, in any weather. For instance, during 2012: flooded footpaths, damp and slippery autumn leaves, harbourside shingle.

In the summer of 2013, I wore them on a long tramp in the Scottish Border Country, following the old railway trackbed between the former Saughtree and Riccarton Junction stations, a fairly demanding route which was waterlogged in places and fraught with belligerent sheep bent on barring my progress. 

There wasn't much left to see at Riccarton Junction. One old platform face was pretty much it. Whereas there had been plenty to see at Saughtree station. The current owner had put in a lot of restoration work. There was nobody about, and so I had a good look. 

There was only a short length of track, but I thought it was all very impressive. I contemplated the scene on arrival, and then I had a second chance after walking to Riccarton Junction and back. Once again, these were pictures taken on my little Leica D-Lux 4, which I'm still using today in 2026, with 131,000 shots under its belt.

This was a long walk to take in posh wellies. My feet got tired and painful, and I was limping by the time I'd trekked back to Fiona, my Volvo car at the time. Further: the boots, being waterproof, were not the thing to wear in even mildly warm weather. They had induced a heat rash on both ankles that took a couple of days to fade. In fact my ankles looked red and angry when I took the boots off back at Fiona, and even a refreshing gin and tonic at the nearest pub failed to cure my discomfort. I was just about OK to drive back to the caravan site. It was clear that while the boots were very comfortable for an hour's walk, and possibly for two hours in cool weather, they were no substitute for proper walking boots (like my Alt-Bergs) for longer outings.

Thereafter, I reserved them for shorter walks only. But they continued to do sterling wet-weather service in various challenging locations, such as on this occasion at Ebernoe in Sussex in 2015.

Back home, they cleaned up fine.

And they stayed looking good. I was glad I'd bought them. (I had long recovered from the initial financial hit)

I acquired a Barbour jacket in 2021. That and the Dubarry boots were natural partners.

Dubarry did classically-feminine fashion boots too, as in this shop poster I saw in Cheltenham later in 2021. 

I wonder what the rough-sleeping person dressed in grey thought of the poster? He was an odd sight to see in a place like Cheltenham.

Even in 2024 (my Dubarry boots were thirteen years old by then) I could slosh through the New Forest, semi-flooded after weeks of rain, and my feet would stay warm and dry.

Admittedly, it took more than a day to get them completely dry after such a soaking. But I could help the process along by hanging them up in my caravan, which I could heat up very nicely.  

That's my old caravan, of course, not the newer one I bought last January. 

When I set forth on one of the Chailey Commons in Sussex three days ago, I wore my Dubarry boots. I enjoyed an exhilarating tramp along paths on the edge of Red House Common that I'd not walked along before, in the kind of half-hazy autumn sunshine I most like. As the photos below illustrate. It was so easy to get atmospheric shots of things autumnal - and my best shots yet of the famous Chailey Windmill. 

The marvellous light got very golden: sunset was fast approaching. Look how it lit me and the Windmill up.

I'd been walking for an hour, and the boots felt fine. But it was time to head back to Sophie, and then home. The shadows were getting long!

And then the boots didn't feel quite right. They were still comfortable on my feet, but walking was harder in them. Yet they looked all right if I glanced down. Hmm. That odd feeling grew and grew.

Back at the car park, I realised what had happened to both boots: the soles were gaping!

Well, they were just about OK for driving, if I took care. Back home, I had a closer look.

It was no good. I'd wondered whether applying some kind of rubber solution might bind them together again. But it looked as if the rubber soles had aged to a point where they would start peeling away in other places too. Their time was up. In any case, even if a repair were attempted, I clearly couldn't rely on them any longer to be completely waterproof. 

I wasn't sentimental about it. They'd had a long run. Fifteen years. But now it was bin time.

Will I replace them? Short answer: no. Not that they cost such a huge amount nowadays. Dubarry still sell the exact same 'Galway' boots for £379 online, coincidentally exactly what I recently paid for my Citizen Promaster Tough watch, the one with the yellow strap in the windmill shot above. £379 is half what I would have expected. Perhaps production has been stepped up, with volume reducing the asking price. And very likely they are now made abroad, just as Barbour jackets are now made abroad. But to me £379 remains quite a lot. And I need other kinds of footwear more urgently. 

So if venturing out into the snow and ice this winter, it'll have to be in my heavy-duty green wellies, or my Alt-Berg walking boots. 

It does feel like a phase in my life is over: the Dubarry Era. Oh well.

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