Boot Stories (PRIZE ALERT!)

I’m not sure if I remember my first pair of boots. I might have had a pair or two of hand-me-downs before I got to the red ropers with the scuffs on the toes. Of course, they didn’t come with the scuffs on the toes, but that’s the only way I remember them.

I was probably seven or eight when I opened the box and tried them on. Boots in our childhood were a purchase thought out carefully by my parents. They had to fit well. They had to last. They had to polish up for 4-H horse shows and they had to come off and let us loose if we got our foot hung up in the stirrup.

We didn’t go riding in lace-ups.

Sometimes I would wear those red boots to school, but mostly I would save them for riding. I was a particular child and I believed there was a particular dress code for things.

Apparently bright and buttoned up to the top was one of my rules for public appearances…

Anyway, as my feet grew, I would tuck my old boots away at the back of the closet for my little sister and dad and I would head to the store to pick out my next pair. I’m not sure why, but the memory of the boot-picking-out-process with my dad is one that stuck with me.

Maybe it was because shopping in farm and fleet stores was the only kind of shopping the two of us ever really did together, but there was something about the smell of the leather standing next to my father staring at a wall full of boots in every shape, size and color that was both comforting and confidence building.

I think it was justification that I was his helper, his right hand man, and he needed to make sure I had the right gear.

There isn’t much gear more important to a cowboy than his boots.

And the choice in boots was never made on looks alone. No. It was brand and quality of the leather. It was height of the heel and comfort of the fit. It was a toe not too pointy and a sole not too thick. It was flexibility and durability and practicality.

Luckily, back then, I was a Plain Jane sort of girl. Anything flashy or frilly was for Rodeo Queens, and, despite the pair of hand-me-down yellow western pants I got from the neighbor, I was no Rodeo Queen.

Clearly…

In fact, once my feet quit growing, I wore a maroon pair of Ropers until the duct tape that I used to repair them wore off and a friend who borrowed them lost them at a rodeo.

If it weren’t for her I’d probably still be wearing them. I think she probably did me a favor there.

Anyway, I don’t have to tell you how times have change me. No. You are all well aware of my affinity for boots. We’ve talked about it before.

And while my life still calls for a plain brown riding boot with a good heel, I believe it also calls for a vintage red pointed toe with a cream lace detail top, perfect for under my wedding dress.

I also must have the the tall gray snip toe with a lace butterfly detail to show off with black pants and a flowy top. And then there’s the pale brown pair with the embroidered tops that I wear with sundresses.

Oh, and the black pair with the lizard skin inlay and the killer toe that I squeeze into a few times a week because they were a gift from my husband a few Christmases ago and I was too excited to worry about things like the correct size.

And then the chocolate brown pair with the turquoise and red detail I convinced my mom to buy that have somehow found a home in my closet…

Yes. It might be the hat that makes the man, but I think it’s the boots that make the woman.

Which brings me to the reason I brought this all up in the first place. Are you ready for it?

See, I’ve got plenty of stories I could tell that involve a great pair of boots, but I want to hear yours. And so do my good friends over at Rocky Boots.

So guess what?!

I am giving away a free pair of Rocky Boots (your choice) to one of you, my loyal, beautiful followers. 

 FREE BOOTS!!!!

If that doesn’t make your heart race like seeing a cowboy bending over a branding fire, I don’t know what will…

FREE BOOTS FROM ROCKY!!

Sorry, I don’t get to use that phrase very often. Had to do it again.

Anyway, all you have to do to get in the running for the prize is leave me a comment with a story involving your favorite pair of boots. Now ladies and gentlemen, I know you’re not all out there donning cowboy boots, so that’s not the rule.

They can be rubber boots, shit-kickers, snow boots, hunting boots, hiking boots, knee-high dancing boots or the ones that got away for all I care, just tell me why you love them or why the memory is so sweet and I will put your name in the hat for a free pair of your choice from Rocky.

Now Rocky sells outdoor, duty, work and western boots, so there’s truly something for everyone here.

Me? I’ve got my eyes on these babies.

Anyway..here’s how to enter.

  • Tell me about your favorite boots in the comments on This Blog Post Right Here
  • Or leave your story as a comment at facebook.com/veederranch
  • And since we’re having so much fun here, I’d love to see some photos! Tweet or Instagram your favorite boots shots using #rockybootstories. These entries will be counted toward the free boot drawing too!You can find me on both Instagram and Twitter as @VeederranchThen head over and show Rocky Boots some love!
  • Facebook.com/rockygear
  • Twitter: @rockygear
  • Instagram @rockyboot

    Rocky Logo_PrimaryThe drawing will be held and announced next Wednesday where I will feature some of my favorite photos and stories right here on the old bloggity blog!

    This is fun stuff folks! Can’t wait to hear (or see) where your boots have taken you!

29 thoughts on “Boot Stories (PRIZE ALERT!)

  1. My favorite pair of boots aren’t even mine. I realize that sounds a bit Dorothy-ish in the Wizard of OZ, but that’s not the case. I’ve actually never even put on these boots. They belong to my sister, who is 9 years younger than I am. I should have known that she’d be more cowgirl than I ever could imagine when she started sleeping with a three-legged plastic pony versus the teddy bears that most kids sleep with. She became a cowgirl at a young age when she realized that she could put on her bright red with bling (sounding Wizard of Oz-ish again) boots all by herself. These boots didn’t require anyone to tie her stupid laces or help her ensure that they got on her feet. She put them on herself and would go out the door. I’m sure 50% of the time they were on the wrong feet but it didn’t matter to her. She had places to go and adventures to make into a reality. Twenty years later, she’s still rocking some boot of some shade. I think that this early independence shaped her entire attitude, as long as she had her boots, red blinged or not, she was invincible.

  2. I love roper style boots. I’m having trouble finding ones that fit here in Eastern ND, so I ended up getting some of a similar style by Steve Madden. Ropers, with a zipper on the inside of the leg to make them come off easily. I loved them so much, I bought three colors!

  3. My boot story is a little sad…About 15 years ago, I lived in Delaware. I had two pairs of cowboy boots, one pair brown, one pair distressed black. I wore them for years, every day. Then I moved to Albuquerque – again, every day, boots. Then I moved to Minot in the fall of 2010. That winter was brutal, and I had a stinky hot-weather car, so I didn’t get out much, I wasn’t making friends, and I had no job yet. We were warned to get ready for the flood. My son (Air Force) was on special flood duty. My daughter-in-law (Air National Guard) was on special flood duty. I was full-time babysitting my two grandsons. So when my son finally got off, it was THE DAY the sirens were to go off. I had just time to grab some clothes, all my genealogy research, and my books. I lost both pairs of boots and most everything else.
    And good lawd, Jessie, you have an awesome collection of boots!

  4. My all time favorite pair of boots are the boots I wore on my wedding day, last September. They are black with lizard inlay (like the boots your husband got for you) except they are square toes. I think it took me longer to pick out the boots then it did to pick out my wedding dress. Not only did I wear them for the wedding, I wore them on the honeymoon! We took the motorcycle out to the Hills in South Dakota. I love that these boots are so comfortable! Every time I put those boots on it takes me back to that special day!

  5. My first pair of cowboy boots came soon after that wonderful Christmas I received a new saddle. I was in heaven, as had been riding bareback for years, it seemed, and my horse was a tall, black mare with high withers and a sharp backbone. They were plain old black boots, a man’s style, but they were my prized possession. Wore them for many, many years in the barn, in the muck, in the Mandan 4th of July Parade with Gene Autry. That alone will date me, but it was a glorious time for me. Jesse, your line-up of boots is wonderful. Go for it girl!!!

  6. Boy, did your story take me back. I too got my boots when I was growing up at the feed store, only probably a whole generation before you. There were the plain black pointed toe boots that I grew out of in 6 months, some others and when my feet stopped growing in the 7th grade (size 9 1/2 ), my mom hauled home the infamous suede palomino colored pointy toed boots. They were to be worn only when I was showing horses in 4H, and believe me, that was no problem. Ugly, very uncomfortable and showed every mark. Because my feet were so big, I could wear men’s boots and went thru several pair of those. My parents opened a western wear store in the late 80’s (your shirt in your pic could have come from their place), and I went thru 2 pair of gray ropers (still have 1 pair) and bought a killer pair of teal blue laceups (worn to western art shows when I was showing, still have but they kill my feet now). But I think my favorites are my Tony Lamas, they are actually mens boots, but they are so classic. Dark brown tops, saddle brown bottoms with dark croc med. point toes and a walking heel. My dream boots would be black calf leather with tall tops stitched in turquoise and silver, a moderate toe and underslung higher heels. I could put the Montana Silversmiths heel and toe caps on that I bought but never got the boots for. They would go with my black Stetson I bought when I made my first big art sale. Thanks for letting me ramble on. Sandi Brown Date: Thu, 8 May 2014 20:03:26 +0000 To: sankbrown@msn.com

  7. These are my current boots, my favourite boots.

    I convinced my parents to buy me my first pair of walking boots when I was about 13 years old, and had well-lived in pairs until my mid-20s when I became a much more urban girl and my boots were replaced by office-friendly mary janes, with comfy skate shoes for weekends. Then about 6 years ago I took a long, hard look at my life, packed everything up and moved from urban Brisbane to the little city of Hobart, Tasmania, right at the bottom of Australia.

    Hobart has great access to amazing national parks and hiking trails, as well as cold, wet winters that turn those trails into freezing streams that quickly soak through socks and joggers. So I bought myself these boots and I started walking. In re-discovering my childhood love of the outdoors I re-discovered myself. I got out of a marriage that was destroying me, I moved to a tiny cottage, got seriously into gardening and started seriously becoming the person I’d always wanted to be.

    In 2012 I set off for a travel adventure in South America, and my boots carried me from the coastal bohemia of Valparaiso to the desert dust of San Pedro de Atacama and up into the spectacular Andean mountains around Cusco, where I fell in love with Peru as well as a certain Peruvian. Eight months later my boots came back to Cusco with me to follow my heart, and spent many happy hours travelling the cobble streets of the Inca capital, and working in the veggie garden of the orphanage where I was teaching the girls basic food-growing skills.

    Back home again in Hobart my boots helped me to keep sane on weekend hikes through snow, mud, dust and rain, while I figured out how to live with my heart on the other side of the world, and in September 2013 they were on my feet as I flew back to Peru yet again, to take up a year-long position working in environmental management here in Lima, my stomach full of butterflies and my heart all over the place.

    The guy and I couldn’t make it work, in the end, but the boots and I are still going strong. We’ve trekked up to 4 800 mASL in the Cordillera Blanca, we’ve visited ruins from long-vanished cultures.For the princely sum of 20 Nuevo Soles (about $8 US) I got the holes worn through by my heels patched and my patched-up boots were on my feet again when my patched-up heart and I wandered through Cusco again recently and shared a moment of healing with a man I’ll always, always remember.

    They’re almost 6 years old now and they’ve covered a lot of ground, but there’s life in my old boots yet. They’ve outlived three pairs of pricey hiking sneakers and I’ve learnt that no-one can bring out the shine in them like a Peruvian street boot boy. At the end of my project here in Lima I’m hoping we can adventure together through Patagonia for one more grand South American adventure before I head back to Tasmania and work out just what comes next in my life. These boots are my freedom, my adventurous spirit, the wonders I’ve seen and the paths I’ve chosen to tread. Dear old friends who’ve never left a blister, their passing will be mourned, though long may they live on as planters in a happy garden somewhere.

  8. What a great boot story, Jessie! Thank you once again for sharing and for making my morning coffee+reading such a delight 🙂 As for your boot collection – amazing and I bet each of them have a story to tell 😉 And here I am – admiring your perfect cowboy boots – never even have seen “a cowboy bending over a branding fire” – and obviously never even owned a pair of such beauties. But still I wanted to share a little story about my boots that involve my husband. The boots that are my all time favorite are a pair of brown leather beauties, made in Portugal and with a most bizarre zipper clothing in the back – they are high and stylish and from the first day I bought them absolutely perfect fit. I have been wearing them for 6 years now (in winter season only). They are part of the story how I met my husband in the Brussels airport back in 2008. That day I had my brown boots on (have just bought them) and a brown leather coat, it was a perfect sunny morning in January and I was driving my friend to the airport. We ladies, have had a couple of drinks the night before to celebrate our last evening together before she is heading back home and of course we were late and totally stressed so I hardly remember the way from my apartment to the airport, but we made it – she headed off to her gate and me I headed out the sliding door of the airport in the sun looking down admiring my then still brand new leather boots I felt such a relief and so happy at the same time – also to see the sun and my beauties and how great I looked wearing them and then…. boom… boom… boom… several heavy suitcases are rolling off the trolley and land right next to my boots. I didn’t even look – just tried to pick up the closest of those heavy bags thinking “thank God they didn’t scratch my boots” and right then I hear a very deep voice of a man telling me: “It’s ok – I can handle this, thank you!” Well I had to look up to see who is so rudely refusing my help – and there he was – trying to pick up all his luggage and stuck it back up on the trolley smiling at me. Well, we started talking… and the rest is history – we’ve been together since and this august will be celebrating our fifth wedding anniversary 🙂 warmest spring greetings from Brussels, Signe P.S. if the whole prize thing doesn’t apply to Europe that is totally fine – I just felt I needed to share this story about how just a pair of boots become part of such a romantic memory 🙂 and btw our cat Trigger also loves those boots – in his own way – he has managed to “personalize” them twice – to show me that he doesn’t like it when I go out and don’t take him with me 😀

  9. I am a collector of boots as well! My favorite are a pair of Sterling Boots that my Dad bought for me for the 21st birthday! Before my birthday, I made trips to our local western store, just to visit them and try them on, never imaging that I would be able to afford the beautiful boots. Dad bought them for me saying, ” As much as I paid for these Damn things you better wear them forever! Happy Birthday!” That was 22 years ago and I still have them, they have been resoled, repaired, oiled, they have been worn to teach Kindergarten, to weddings, concerts, rodeos and county fairs, to church and bars. They have aged better than I have 🙂 I can’t bear to part with them, they are not the most comfortable any more, but they are my favorite.

  10. So, there I was sleeping soundly (well I guess not that soundly) when I hear munching coming from the kitchen. I go in, flip on the light and what do my eyes see? My Cocker Spaniel “Gunner” having a 3 am snack of my new 2 week old Justin boots!!!! I gasp! I’m in shock! Am I having a nightmare!? Gunner looks up at me (mid chew, mind you) with an expression of “can I help you with something”? All I can say is OMG Noooo! I grab the boots and just want to cry. Now Gunner is only giving me side glances. Damage is done so what could I do but regain some composure and try to find the humor…
    I know own a pair of customized Justin Boots that I still love and wear daily, but occasionaly still have flashbacks. http://spottedfeatherfarm.com/2013/03/16/finding-the-humor/
    He even signed them. I feel so privileged….

  11. So, there I was sleeping soundly (well I guess not that soundly) when I hear munching coming from the kitchen. I go in, flip on the light and what do my eyes see? My Cocker Spaniel “Gunner” having a 3 am snack of my new 2 week old Justin boots!!!! I gasp! I’m in shock! Am I having a nightmare!? Gunner looks up at me (mid chew, mind you) with an expression of “can I help you with something”? All I can say is OMG Noooo! I grab the boots and just want to cry. Now Gunner is only giving me side glances. Damage is done so what could I do but regain some composure and try to find the humor…
    I know own a pair of customized Justin Boots that I still love and wear daily, but occasionaly still have flashbacks. http://spottedfeatherfarm.com/2013/03/16/finding-the-humor/
    He even signed them. I feel so privileged….

  12. I can’t send you a picture of my favorite boots because they’ve been lost. I was very young, maybe 5 or 6, and my parents had bought me my first pair of boots; they were red with green trimmed tops. After a few days of owning them our neighbors came over and of course we children were sent outside to play. A game of follow-the-leader soon developed and I was blindly following my friend when she ran over the pit the milk cows’ urine drained into (fondly known as the piss pit). It was fine for her but when I ran over it one of the planks in the cover broke and I plunged into it. She quickly thought to sit on my hands and yell for help. My older sister came running, tried to lift me out and failed so ran to the house to get my dad. He and the neighbor guy came running and pulled me out to safety but my boots were, sadly, left in the piss pit for eternity. To top things off, Mom wouldn’t let me into the house to bathe so I ended up in the water tank and THEN we had to clean the water tank so the cows didn’t get ill. I still remember those boots fondly and have never seen a pair like them.

  13. Many moons ago I was a collector of Roper boots. I was in the Navy and had little room to store them and on occasion a pair would go “missing” here and there. But then there were the maroon Ropers. These boots looked just like all my others, but they felt so much more comfortable on my feet. I wore them everywhere! They stuck to my feet during the several crazy months I decided to try bull-riding and scooted along many dance hall floors. Eventually the soles wore through and I couldn’t bear to toss them away. Like you I taped them with duck tape for a while, but they eventually found their way to the back of the closet, hoping some day to be repaired. Several moves later I realized the boots had gone missing and that was a sad day. I’ve never had a more comfortable pair of boots since, but I wear a pair of maroon boots to this day in their memory 🙂

  14. As you know… I too share a love for boots… I’m pretty sure that’s what makes us such good friends!
    I would like to say that my favorite boots are my wedding boots that are so scuffed, my husband bought my me new “should be” favorite snip toed, wing tipped boots. But they aren’t. They aren’t even my fabulous Corral boots, that a sales lady at the only “western” store we could find in the Minneaplis area, thought were “vintage”… I’ll take that as a compiment! I can’t even say my favorites are my most fabulous Muck Boots anyone has seen because I “girlified” them with some awesome fuzzy boot covers that my mother in law gave me for Christmas one year.
    I have to say that my favorite pair of boots are a pair that I havn’t purchased yet.
    I believe my favortie boots are going to be the 1st pair of boots that my Little Blessing, Ellie, wears. For some reason, out of all the cute clothes and gifts that she’s recieved, we havn’t recieved a pair of boots yet. I’m thinking it’s because that’s something that her and I are going to get to share together. Maybe our Bestie-Jessie will even be able to join us in the fun… and to Jake’s dismay, pass on our love for a good pair of boots… For every occasion!

  15. My favorite boots were a red pair of cowgirls boots I had as a child, maybe 5-7 years old. They were red cowgirl boots, the type that pulled on and off in case my foot got stuck in the saddle stirrup if my horse got out of control. How I loved those boots! I wore them so much they had holes on the outside and holes in the back. I still remember not wanting to give them up, even though my feet had outgrown them.

  16. Jessie, not sure that you will receive this this way but I’m going to try…I’m not sure how to send it on Twitter or Instagram…These weren’t my first pair of boots nor have they been my last but every cowgirl had her first pair and I’m glad that my second pair survived. I I have a pair of dad’s boots hanging at my coffee shop, James Gang Java. Often people will ask about them. After I tell their story, I often will produce my little pair and show them how young we are when we get started wearing boots. I’d like to go back in time and spend a couple of days in those little boots and look around at my world then. A lot of stories could be told about the times we have had in our cowgirl boots! Let me know if this flies to you…jess
    Sent from my iPad 🌅 YEA Spring‼️

    >

  17. Pingback: Sunday Column: Adventures in boots… | Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

  18. The first pair of boots that I can remember wearing were white with a circular silver broach-type thing that had white fringe hanging off of them. I still remember wearing them while riding near Killdeer when I was about 6 or 7. I was riding a little shetland pony named Stormy and was letting her drink in a small watering hole when she decided to lay down in the water. I tried my hardest not to get those boots wet but Stormy won that battle! My dad always comments on how I stayed on my horse and wore a smile the whole time! Good memories, thanks for your boot post!

  19. “I am totally buying these boots.”

    “Totally?” laughs the saleswoman. “Y’all ain’t from aroun’ here, are ya?”

    No, I’m definitely not from around here. I am a Southern California girl through and through. Sandy beaches and crashing waves are my playground. My boss, who is also my dear friend, insisted I accompany her on this business trip to Nashville. My world has just been turned upside down and Lynn thinks I need to get out of town.

    The saleswoman is scarecrow skinny, fifty-something with a wide smile. The name tag on her plaid western shirt with the pearly snaps reads ‘Betty.’ She wears her jeans unfashionably high up on her waist, cinched tight with a tooled leather belt. Her black cowboy boots are elaborately embroidered, with cut-work designs. The pointed toes of her boots look sharp enough to slice a watermelon.

    Betty wants to know what brings us to Nashville. We chat about family and life in Tennessee. I have never been to a place where restaurants post signs, requesting patrons to leave their guns in the car. Betty is the epitome of Southern warmth and charm. I want to remember her, so I ask to take her photo.

    “Now, y’all have to promise to send me a copy of that picture.”

    We also take photos of boots. Lots and lots of boots. I have never seen such a variety of boots. Black, brown, pink, orange and purple. Snakeskin, rhinestones and bright embroidery adorn these boots. Some cost several months’ wages.

    I choose a pair of faded brown leather boots with a bit of detail, pointy toes and a sloping heel. I have my eye on a red pair, as well. Maybe next time.

    Buying boots in Tennessee is Step One of my new life. The man who promised to love and cherish me ‘til death do us part is in love with someone new. He’s forgotten his promise to me. I’ve heard of equestrian therapy for emotionally troubled children. I think I qualify. I am emotionally troubled. I will trade my flip-flops and beach towel for boots and a horse.

    Betty tells us she doesn’t even know how many pairs of boots she and her husband own. I imagine Betty going home to her husband and cooking him up some fried chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy. They will swap stories about their day. Maybe Betty will talk about those women from California who came all the way to Nashville to buy themselves some cowboy boots.

    I love my new boots so much that I don’t want to take them off. I forget all about my old shoes until Betty chases me out into the parking lot with the bag. She makes me promise to send those photos. I agree, even though I know I will forget.

    No. I’m not from around here.

  20. Well, I have to say that reading the stories is soooo much fun! I don’t envy you trying to pick just one! It’s like trying to let the puppy pick you without getting tickled, trampled, licked or knawed to death by the whole litter of adorable little turds!
    I have a few favorite boots. My hiking boots. I love these babies! They have seen well over 500 miles of wilderness, on/off trail, all around Montana, Wyoming, Idaho. If these babies could talk they’d tell you of Glacier, Tetons, Yellowstone, grizzly bear sows & and their adorable cubs while I’m pushing the shutter button from the bed of my pick up & going “Where’s Mama bear??!!!???” But still clicking away! Hiking thru waterfalls, catching the early morning light & rainbow at the Lower Falls from Artists Point in Yellowstone. Tunnels & Iceberg Lake, receeding glaciers and soooo much more that I almost can’t stop myself! I’m so excited to do it again this summer! Go hit the Highline Trail in Glacier yet again. Or Ptarmigan Trail/Tunnel on the other side of GNP. Make it to the third set of waterfalls on the trail rather than just the first two because I always stop for just tooo long taking photographs! Then stopping at Sisters Cafe on the way back before heading over Going to the Sun Road back to camp and a fantastic fire with huckleberry margaritas! YUMMMM!!!! Or finally getting my personal dream photo of the elusive Yellowstone wolves. These boots even swim in Mirror Lake in the Spanish Peak Mtns.! They are a constant companion which never complain. Always carrying me where ever I can hope and dream to go, and always carrying that extra specail camera bag that seems to keep getting heavier because I just can’t leave this lens or that camera body behind…The collection keeps growing and then I can never leave the tripod behind either, or the water, or some snacks/lunch/yada yada! But these boots never travel alone. They are inseperable from 2 other pairs! I’ve tried to leave them behind, but the boots just can’t make the sacrifice! So, inevitably the Teva’s come too. The hikers decided they get hot and my feet agreed. So after a mutal agreement they decided a good pair of Tevas (or that style of sandal) would be a good thing. My toes agreed. After a good 25 mile or so hike the toes were feeling confined. 🙂 Besides, the Tevas are so versatile! The feet said “See, now we can canoe the Oxbow in Teton, Yellowstone Lake to the back country for hiking & camping, the Madison River for wonderful lazy summer floats, beer and camping, a trip to Mexico, the Yellowstone River 3 day “Boat Float”, and of course you can’t forget fly fishing all summer anywhere! Feet were so happy to have a freeing pair shoes. But, alas, they longed for one last pair of “boots.” They wished for the slightly over-sized, fuzzy warmth of the sheepskin slippers. Because as my legs and waist enjoy my “fat pants” (fuzzy, warm, lime green w/giant white polka dots), feet were slightly jealous and wanted in on fuzzy warmth too. Now the “boot” collection is complete! The slippers just have to share my feet with my nephew’s feet, cause he wants to be just like Aunt Lolo! Love ya buddy!

  21. My best pair of boots were my first official US Army Jump boots. Corcorans, polished to a high shine for every inspection. Spent many a night with cotton t-shirt, can of blakc polish and a lighter to melt the wax in.
    Those boots got a few nights off of road patrol (Was an MP in service) and never failed me. a new pair took about a week to break in but well worth the shin splints. Good boots- miss ’em

  22. I bought my only pair of lacers in college. They didn’t get much wear on my parents’ ranch; instead, I wore through the soles by dancing at Borrowed Bucks!

  23. Love Love Love those boots! I’m definitely a cowgirl want to be. Haven’t owned a pair of boots since I was in high school. I was a 4Her and everyone wore them to the county fair.

  24. Pingback: Boot Stories: Winner Winner! | Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

  25. These stories made me go to my closet and pull out my (very old) boots to see if they still fit. Success! Your urban readers probably know that short cowboy boots on girls are very trendy right now – with shorts, with skirts, with leggings. Their appearance on the streets of Boston cracks me up, but secretly delights me.

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