i even think marcel might have worn them. finally, the proust boots are finished. i am thrilled with them; they feel absolutely magical on. (the right one is a bit tight around the heel area, but i'm loosening it up.)
while i am overjoyed with a finished product that comes satisfyingly close to the idea that i had in my head even before i finished reading proust, I DID NOT LIKE KNITTING THESE AT ALL. every stitch was like pulling a tooth. why? was three pairs of turkish-style socks in six or so months just too many? was it the manos on the fat wooden needles? they just felt wrong, ungainly, and unpleasant from beginning to end. however i was so devoted to the concept, colors, and idea of having them, that here they are, and i am very happy indeed.