WERE it not for one's wellingtons where indeed would one be?

I'm playing fast and arguably loose with words usually attributed to one William Connolly of this parish.

But you get my drift. In the controversial world of footwear, a special place is held by the welly boot.

Its origin is attributed to Arthur Wellesley, one of the world's top Wellesleys and the 1st Duke of Wellington, an unlikeable man whose statue in Glasgow is frequently decorated with a parking cone upon the napper.

Wellesley's wellies were made of leather and were supposed to be operational for riding aboot the place, practical for repelling sabre cuts, and smart enough to wear to a soiree. Today, most wearers just use them for repelling sabre cuts.

An original pair of the Waterloo winner's wellingtons have gone on display at Apsley House, the Duke's former London home, in an exhibition marking the 200th anniversary of the decisive conflict between Great England and France.

They don't bear too much relation to the welly of today, looking more like long cowboy boots. Today's boots, too, are made from rubber.

In times gone by, they were the urban proletariat's footwear of choice, or at least were foisted on tenemental nippers, who often resented them, particularly if the infant was not provided with socks long enough to prevent the sore red mark that the top of the boots made against the legs.

'Twas a small price to pay. Today, the welly remains a must for rural adults. I was mortified, on a recent visit to the boondocks, to find I'd forgotten to bring mine.

I had walking boots, but it's really wellies you need for short-range excursions amidst mud and soil.

In rural areas, toffs abound, usually visiting from their actual homes in Edinburgh's New Town, and for a while these sorts were associated with green wellies. The colour has since lost its exclusivity, but superior people still have their own brands of welly, which differ from ordinary boots solely on price.

Your toff can often be seen in green wellies as he stravaigs bravely across the heather to do battle with the mighty grouse.

Despite them, the welly remains a people's boot, mostly cheap and while not exactly cheerful, oddly comfortable and easy to slip on, certainly compared to walking boots and their deplorable eyelets, which drain valuable time from the busy rustic executive at play.

Today, in a world of foot-massaging trainers, orthotic sandals and shoes that measure your heart-rate, the humble welly remains a staple of the well-dressed peasant's boot-rack.

One day, I expect we'll see people wearing them on Mars. And that'll be no mean feet.