One-season boots.

I'm not one who generally thinks a beauty product, article of clothing, pair of shoes, handbag or any other vanity accoutrement should meet or exceed a certain price-point in order to make the cut into a wardrobe rotation.

In fact, there is plenty of evidence to the contrary, including:

My been-wearing-it-since-10th-grade mascara: $3.99

My even-wore-it-during-a-marathon eye-liner: $4.29

My wore-it-to-an-Embassy-and-a-Snow-Patrol-concert jacket: $68

My current go-to work pump: $48.99

My would-risk-my-life-to-save-it vintage dress: $110 + $40 in alterations

My help-me-recover-from-last-night cup of coffee: $1.49

Sure, I lust over the $780 pair of platform Louboutins, the $2,200 Carolina Herrera tweed shift and the $2,150 Tod's satchel, but for the most part, when I'm not living in the lux fantasy land that is my blog, I'm pretty content with my reasonably-priced beauty regiment and wardrobe components.

That being said, there are a few items I have through experience come to staunchly believe cannot be substituted adequately by a lesser quality - usually less expensive - challenger.

Bronzer, wrap-dresses, Brazilian waxes, Champagne, leather boots -- all of these, for me, are either top-of-the-line or not-at-all, with a whole lot more of the latter than the former.

Sticking to my guns on this last one - leather boots - has led me to go an entire winter season wearing nothing but pumps, flats, galoshes and yes, even the oh-everyone's-so-over-them UGGs. For about forty different reasons, some of which involve indulging in the other four non-negotiables I enumerated, I just couldn't save enough money at any point in the past five months to invest in a proper pair. I had my goal boots selected and its $300 price-tag locked in my head, but no matter how cold my feet were clicking to work in skinny-heeled peep-toes in late January, no matter how many Thursday nights I declined Happy Hour invitations to boost my boot-fund, and no matter how many every-five-weeks appointments I really did mean to cancel at Blue Mercury, I just couldn't make it happen. And of course now, when the clearance bins are at their emptiest and my precious boots' price has dropped by two-thirds, neither my color (gray) nor my size (7.5) are anywhere but in other, more fortunate, more budget-efficient girls' shoe displays.

I suppose most women in my situation would have compromised at some point - after their suede round-toeds underwent their third salt damage treatment, perhaps - and been content with a less expensive boot, but seeing a woman this morning wearing a sub-standard pair of weather-damaged, fray-heeled "leather" knee-highs, only confirmed what I already knew:

I'd sooner be frostbitten in heels than be a one-season-boots kind of girl.