Hunter boots are verboten in Richard’s family as they tend to be worn by Poseurs rather than actual farmers. But within days of their arrival in our local shoe shop every woman with a Peg-Pérego and a SIGG water bottle was wearing a pair. Hunter boots walked out of the local video store. They were at the dog park with their pugs. They lined up for $6 organic owl-pellet bread and dozed in the hallways during restorative yoga. They have become the Crocs of the Strollertariat. Maybe they’ve jumped the sartorial shark or maybe they have found their natural habitat.
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