Here is the long awaited picture. I am on the verge of returning them. Whether I buy the Oxfords remains to be seen - I may match sneakers with such an attire. In all honesty, I feel kind of bad for the boots. For some reason, beyond my comprehension, I have always treated inanimate object as if they were sentient, more or less. Yes, I know they are not, but a part of me nonetheless imparts an aspect of the contrary. Thus, returning the shoes one could equate to returning a dog to a shelter where a needle is to determine its fate. Older possessions that which you have sentimental value are even harder to part with. The former may sound the very token of insanity, but knowing I had purchased these shoes, it is obvious you do not hold the constitution of my mind to a particularly high standard. This was partly the reason I chose something so over-the-top. I have a cheap pair of black Bostonian oxfords that I bought for about 50 bucks in November and wear nearly everyday. I have circumambulated Manhattan many a time in those shoes, and consequently your relationship with your shoes, above all else you don, is the most personal. There's a reason why Van Gogh chose to paint his shoes. And I feel if I purchase a more expensive pair of dark oxfords, before my Bostonian's demise, the new will unjustifiably supplant the old.
In the other corner, the challenger, a hybrid of formalism and peacockism, tipping the scales at 115 dollars: The Ruzzo Oxford 
