His black boots were thick with dust and looked as if they hadn't been polished for months.

Your boots look beat-up and busted down, but I guess they'll get you through the door of most places.

His boots looked like the sort made for baton twirlers.

The attached boots alone looked like they could fit a size 20 foot.

Her boots, at least, were new, and when the dust was brushed from them, looked quite well.

The boots looked a little funny under them, but he'd pass.

Those particular boots looked as though they'd hitchhiked to hell and back without getting a single ride.

His boots looked comfortable, and hadn't been polished in some time.

She tossed him his boots and looked away again, but not before he'd seen the sheen of tears in her eyes.

Sure, those new boots looked great on the shelf and even better on your feet.