Giddy Up Y'all

The matter of cowboy boots is similar to the issue of slippers. Confidence and indifference are required behaviors necessary to avoid the “Giddy Up” syndrome. The aforementioned syndrome and the "Big Hat-No Cattle" cliche are first cousins methinks. I mean the lattitude for ridicule when caught wearing slippers without the uvulas to do so is limited compared to the shit you can get when attempting a cowboy rig. Careful now.


And let me just tell you early on-if you EVER wear any kind of boot with shorts-make sure you have your Broke Back Mountain-Can’t Quit You t-shirt on to accompany your rig ‘cause that’s what you are broadcasting. Fine if you want to-but just make sure you stay away from my ass-literally. I'm channelling that great ensemble-The Village People.

You are not a cowboy-and for those of you who genuinely are cowboys, you probably aren’t reading this blog and if you are-none of the drivel herein applies to you. You are a rare and vanishing breed and I am humbled in your presence. You wear hats-buckles-belts not only because you can-but because it’s part of your lore-your heritage and by god, that’s what you generally wear to work. You, Cowboy, have every right to shout “poseur” to every “Big Hat-No Cattle” dilettante who is foolish enough to attempt adorning themselves with even one component of the Cowboy rig. Butcept I just realized that Cowboys don't use words like poseur 'cause if they did they would be poseurs and ...well you know what I mean. Your authority on which to base such call outs is exactly why I leave my boots and buckles at home when Texas-Oklahoma-Arizona and New Mexico.

So this post is for the rest of us. The ones of us who got cowboy outfits for Christmas when we were little kids-the ones-if you were like me-who got one new pair of cowboy boots every year. For me, this ritual occurred in the fall when my mom bought my back to school clothes. Phil Nofals Fine Shoes-the source of one hundred percent of my shoddings for the first fifteen years of my life, only carried cowboy boots in the fall. I can still smell the new leather of the Acme boots at Phil Nofals. I think I usually got black ones.

I got reacquainted with cowboy boots after college. The trad years of undergrad didn’t support a cowboy boot option. You would have been ridiculed right out of the Kappa Alpha house had you rolled in wearing anything other than L.L. Bean-Topsiders-Bass Weejuns. Strict trad code in that environment and I certainly didn’t have the uvulas to be the outlier-situational or otherwise.

Jack Kreindler, co-founder of 21 in Gotham was a big fan of cowboy boots-as evidenced here. Wonder where these babies are now?

Howdy-Doody sported a unique rendition-a man of no consequence-seeing how he had his initials tooled on his boots.

When I make another million and don’t have to give it to someone else-I’m gonna have the boys at Rocket Buster make me a fancy pair.

Every time LFG and I go to Cactus Cantina I ask if I can try on a few of their vintage boots.

Cuh-boy boots as my buddy back home,W.A.H. calls them-are probably about thirty percent of my afterhour’s casual shodding since about that same amount of swathing finds me in jeans-and I’m often in boots when wearing jeans.

I wear pretty basic cowboy boots. Noconas are my brand of choice because they are reasonably priced and are fairly high quality. I have three pairs that serve me well. 

Black-Brown-Brown Suede. And when the weather is oppressive in the summer-you can always bust out in a pair of Nocona shoe boots. The slipper of cowboy shoddings.

Green Lizard. Any Green Lizards at your house? Shut up.

The cowboy boot realm is where this normally fuzzy-diced redneck guy practices restraint. Why? Because if you push this envelope too far a real cowboy is gonna beat your ass or you are going to end up a member of the People of Wal-Mart website-if you go to Wal-Mart in an envelope pushing cowboy rig.

Toe variations-they're all good.

These are my general guidelines for the ever so shallow dip that I take into the cowboy pool. This should be considered a compass-not a detailed road map. If you are in need of more detail-call Roy Damn Rogers.

I wear boots ONLY with jeans-blue denim year around-corduroy five pocket jeans ten months a year and white jeans in the summer. NO boots and suits-dress trousers or formal wear.

I make certain that my jeans are long enough. I tend to wear flat front casual trousers a bit on the short side. That’s fine with loafers-it’s not fine to have jeans coming to a halt before the correct exit point on the bootie trail.

I wear a Polo-Ralph Western belt with a fairly modest silver buckle. 

Leave the Turkey Platter Rodeo buckle to the folks who’ve earned the right to wear them. Ass beatin’s may once again ensue over such issues.

And finally, I wouldn’t wear a cowboy hat on a bet. I defer this to those who are authentic in their western swathings. I’m an unabashed giddy up poseur but even I have limits. And my limit is met-long before I top it off with a ten gallon boater.

Onward-Giddying Up Y’all

ADG