Washing your Ugg boots is a feat to say the least, but is doable in case of an emergency.
I weighed my options and came to the conclusion that it simply had to be done. Like a favoured teddy bear, the feeling was the same - you had to let go as it went into the washing machine. All you could do was hope for the best because you had no choice.
Of course, Ugg boots don't smell like Downy when the process is over. They smell like wet dog.
Here's how it all went down. A few months ago, someone gave me a pair of beige furry boots they didn't want any more. In fairness, they weren't real Uggs but, similar to Kleenex, the style of boot had taken on the brand name as its definition. But this is beside the point, being that I, the girl who vowed to never wear those things, was now not only an owner, but a proud one.
Who knew they were so comfortable? And who knew they could make you feel so cool? I instantly felt like a movie star hiding from the paparazzi as I ran for morning deli coffee in tights, Uggs and a baseball cap.
Well, apparently my friend Karen figured out how wonderful the boots were during Hurricane Sandy and before I knew it, they were confiscated and off to Brooklyn. And thus I was left with the task of buying new ones, seeing as I had now established that I couldn't live without them.
I tried on a cheap pair at Payless and realized I would have to splurge for the real thing. It just wasn't the same. Turns out real Uggs are real expensive. There was no way I was waiting around for the Black Friday sale to wait in line and hope for the best, I needed them ASAP. - so I broke down.
More than $200 later, I was once again the proud owner of a slightly darker, slightly more authentic boot. I got mad at myself for stepping in a puddle the same day; who knew it was only going to get a whole lot worse?
Not even a week old, I am in an accident and my boots suffer a major spill. I'm not as devastated as I am ticked off with myself, but this is a pretty typical Jackie event, so I roll my eyes, go to sleep, and decide to figure it out in the morning. On my way to work the cab always passes this spray-painted sign promoting local cleaning; it says in bubble letters, "We clean Ugg products." So I figure I could drop them off there.
I Google the task before me: Ugg cleaning. There's a helpful video on the official website that suggests I do it myself with a mild detergent. Great, I think. One less thing I'll have to pay for. It also suggests wetting the whole boot, which makes sense to me, seeing as wetness clearly leaves a watermark outline. The man on the video says they'll be like the day I bought them when I'm finished. Which wasn't even seven days ago - but that's not his fault.
I'm standing at my bathroom sink with an Ugg boot in my hand and have this genius idea to take them in the shower with me instead. In my head, this will make it easier to wet the whole boot and give me a larger water-friendly working surface. Clearly, I have not thought this through as I fill up the boot expecting to flip it and see water run out. Instead, the fur absorbs the water and when I squeeze it out what looks like coffee drips down. Not to mention my shower doesn't drain well and I'm experiencing something similar to when I wash off self tanner.
I don't want to have to redo this process, so I assume using more rather than less soap is the right way to go. Soap suds - especially in fur; the fur is inside, and so I develop this rubbing followed by scooping method in which I try to get all the residue out. It takes me about five minutes to get the soap out. I'm frustrated - convinced I've ruined my boots, and now have dark brown hands from the dye. Not to mention I've ruined my lufa sponge as I used it for an outer buffer. This has been interesting to say the least. If anything, it has brought comfort in my earlier decision to drop off that white satin blazer at the dry cleaner instead of trying to remove the small red wine stain on the bottom by myself.
This was an unfortunate experiment but overall, I think it ended up alright. It took a lot of patience and a lot of paper towel stuffing for them to look wearable once again, but funny how they were deemed a new personality - similar to Converse shoes in the end. They looked better worn in - like they inherited street credibility and character. No one likes to walk around in clean Converse - it just looks funny. And thus, like a ballerina's point shoe, purposely damaging them is perhaps a trick.
I would not suggest this, but be comforted in knowing a spill is not the end of your Uggs.