Cowboy boots

I’m from the big city of New York. Fashion and style to me varies on the weather, the time of year and whatever is popular at the moment. I don’t have too much experience with any other concept. When my aunt invited my sister and I to spend two weeks of our summer with her on her Texas ranch, we jumped at the opportunity, but had no idea what to expect. We’d always teased her about her accent but had never even been to Texas. Suddenly, we were eighteen and on a plane headed for two weeks of the western lifestyle.

After we landed and entered the airport, it was like a different world. We were acutely aware of the fact that we were not in New York anymore. Everyone we saw was wearing cowboy boots. Some had hats on and tight jeans. Others looked normal in their attire, but had the cowboy boots on their feet. Even when my aunt and uncle rushed to hug us, I couldn’t help but notice that they were both wearing cowboy boots. I commented on that and my aunt told me that I’d soon discover why wearing cowboy boots in Texas is a way of life.

Once we arrived at her ranch, I felt like I was in an old western movie. Everyone who was milling around or tending to chores was dressed in western attire. And of course, they all had some sort of cowboy boots on their feet. For the next few days, my sister and I rode horses and helped around the ranch. We went sightseeing and enjoyed freedom away from our home. My sneakers, which had been bright white when I’d left home, had become a dusty shade and tattered. My aunt told me that’s why I needed cowboy boots. In fact, she took my sister and I down to the local tack shop to see if we could find a pair of cowboy boots that would suit our sense of fashion. I didn’t think that was possible, but I was willing to humor her. My sister immediately fell in love with a pair that she tried on. I hated to admit it, but she looked adorable in them. I browsed the aisles wondering why in the world I was looking for a pair when I knew that I’d never wear them again. Nonetheless, I found a pair of cowboy boots that I thought weren’t too hideous, and bought them. My aunt insisted that we wear them home. I didn’t think that they were comfortable at first, but after an hour, I was growing accustomed to them.

My aunt took us country line dancing that night, wearing our new cowboy boots and hats that she’d let us borrow. We felt ridiculous and yet, never better. That Texas vacation was my best vacation ever. I can’t wait to go back.

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