Cowboy Boots: The First Pair

Many people remember that first purchase of cowboy boots.  Of course, some people don’t.  Those people are called native Texans, and for them, boots are as natural to them as leis are to Hawaiians or ear flap hats are to Michiganders.  (To be fair, they’re probably even more natural, as native Texans actually wear them year-round.)

Now, boots are strongly associated with born-and-raised Texans, and it’s likely considered a more significant statement of what it means to be a Texan to them than to people who move to the Lone Star State from outside of it.  I’m going to go ahead and posit that the opposite is true, that to us Texas transplants, the cowboy boots we own are more meaningful, more important and integral to us.  Not that it’s a contest or anything, but just like any group of immigrants longing to fit in, we out-of-staters like to cling to those symbols that show that we fit in.  Ponying up to a bar and ordering a Lone Star is one way.  Rooting for the Rockets is another way.  And buying cowboy boots—more so than cowboy hats, since those are for true die-hards—is yet another way.

I’ve done all three of these things with different degrees of enthusiasm (the order, in case you’re wondering, is boots, Lone Star, Rockets).  My first pair was a pair of Justin boots.  They were Ropers.  They were reasonably priced, and I figured that it wouldn’t be a big loss if I ended up not wearing them that frequently, so I bought them.  They were a hair tight at first, and I felt a little hesitant wearing them out and about (not due to tightness, but due to feeling “authentic” wearing them).  However, as time went on, I grew more comfortable with them, and they grew more comfortable with me.  Today, they’re among my favorite footwear—and they get to share closet space with some nice Lucchese boots I bought last year.  Those Luccheses are definitely the classier boots, and I get compliments about them all the time.

Still, I’ll never forget that first pair.