Good Hunt, Much Loot
Apr. 29th, 2004 06:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dancinghorseMore gales today--gusting to 50mph. Horses are toughing it out. Definitely not a day to ride anybody, we'd be blown to El Paso.
I had to take the car in for backup work--since it got its innards fixed a month ago, it's been dribbling fluid. This was duly fixed; while I waited, I went to Rubio's for lunch. Rubio's Baja Grille is a SoCal chain that offers Baja Mex fast food: fish tacos, seafood enchiladas, like that. Their grilled shrimp burritos are to die for. Died, went to heaven with shrimp burrito and salsa verde, got car fixed.
En route home, I stopped by the Saddle Shop. The Saddle Shop is Tucson's English-horse-stuff emporium. Don't even ask how much I've spent there over the years, or how much I've corrupted guests and friends into spending. Jerri and crew have been outfitting me and the Fat White Ponies since I arrived in Tucson--from Capria's first outfit (bridle, grooming stuff, and all the trimmings) to Pooka's fancy gold-piped bridle to, today, the piece de resistance.
This requires a little backstory. For competing in dressage, one is required to have tall boots, preferably in black (and white breeches--yes, white--and gloves and shirt with stock tie, and black or navy coat and hat). They're also a good thing to have for schooling, though in our hot climate, they can be a bit, well, challenging. I've always had a pair--all the way back to Alex at CT yelling at me to "get a decent pair of boots so you can have a proper dressage leg!" (delivered in fierce Russian accent).
My problem is, I am not an off-the-rack, $100-used-on-special size. I have a long foot and a short calf. Riding boots are not made for the likes of me. By the time you fit my foot, the leg is two inches too long. Since you have to be able to bend the knee to ride, never mind walk, this is not a viable option.
Back in the day, I used to go to the Tack Room in Westport and buy semi-custom: fit the foot, get the nice man to build the tops. Those were not the best boots; they wore out fast. Finally I broke down and, just before I moved to Tucson, went hardcore. Full custom. Dehners. Vogels are pricier, but Dehners are built to last. The hunter princesses adore their Vogels. The dressage queens go for Dehners, Koenigs, or Cavallos.
Then I moved to Tucson. And went from a sedentary lifestyle to a very active one. And, well, got middle-aged.
And the beautiful custom Dehners, which were built to hold up for at least twenty years...no longer fit. I could get the tops adjusted, but not the feet, and my feet had gone splat. No more sitting at desks in nice little pumps. All that running around the barn in riding sneakers did my feet in.
Dehners cost the ever-living earth. So the beautiful custom pair with my name stamped inside in gold sat in the closet, and I rode in riding sneakers or, at best, Ariats. The Ariats with half-chaps are OK for clinics and casual riding, but they aren't quite the thing for shows. And I want to show da Pook within the year, the Mother Ship (i.e. finances and transport) willing.
Last winter I decided to bite the bullet. Took the combined "mad money" from all the new contracts and put it together and went in and had Jerri do the very meticulous measuring and fitting. And then I waited.
And yesterday Jerri e-mailed: "They're here!"
So today I went and determined that yea, verily, they are here, and they do fit (though until they're broken in they're going to be a bit challenging to get into and out of). And now there is a pair of Very Expensive Black Leather Objects sitting in a box on the dining-room table. I can't just put them on to break them in; I'll have to have someone here to help me in and out of them. So, Joni gets elected on lesson day. I'm also under orders only to ride in them (not walk and by god not muck stalls in them!) for the first few weeks, until they've softened up. French calf, Olympic tops, rubber soles, inside gussets--aahhh, the pornography of good leather.
But that was not all. We got to talking about the marketers' perception of riders versus the reality. Marketers see twig-thin barely adolescent girls. Real riders, especially in dressage, are predominantly ladies of a certain age and a certain weight, who last saw the twiggy phase when they were about eight years old. If that late. And I lamented that dressage coats are incredibly weirdly sized, and I'm stuck with custom there as well. (Breeches and shirts and such, thank goodness, are much easier; I have a bust and shoulders, but no hips to speak of.)
But no! said Jerri. We just fitted, off the rack, a lady much bigger than you. And instructed her assistant to go to the back room and bring out the coats.
And lo and behold, I can too wear a coat off the rack, in a more or less normal size, rather than a $300 "larger ladies" model. And now, for a lovely price, I have a handsome black wool-blend dressage coat with silver buttons (four down the front, two on the back above the vent--three and no vent buttons is a hunt coat: you learn something every day). And not only that, I'll have to have it taken in; shoulders and bust are just fine, but the rest is overly loose.
Altogether, a good hunt. A very good hunt indeed.
I had to take the car in for backup work--since it got its innards fixed a month ago, it's been dribbling fluid. This was duly fixed; while I waited, I went to Rubio's for lunch. Rubio's Baja Grille is a SoCal chain that offers Baja Mex fast food: fish tacos, seafood enchiladas, like that. Their grilled shrimp burritos are to die for. Died, went to heaven with shrimp burrito and salsa verde, got car fixed.
En route home, I stopped by the Saddle Shop. The Saddle Shop is Tucson's English-horse-stuff emporium. Don't even ask how much I've spent there over the years, or how much I've corrupted guests and friends into spending. Jerri and crew have been outfitting me and the Fat White Ponies since I arrived in Tucson--from Capria's first outfit (bridle, grooming stuff, and all the trimmings) to Pooka's fancy gold-piped bridle to, today, the piece de resistance.
This requires a little backstory. For competing in dressage, one is required to have tall boots, preferably in black (and white breeches--yes, white--and gloves and shirt with stock tie, and black or navy coat and hat). They're also a good thing to have for schooling, though in our hot climate, they can be a bit, well, challenging. I've always had a pair--all the way back to Alex at CT yelling at me to "get a decent pair of boots so you can have a proper dressage leg!" (delivered in fierce Russian accent).
My problem is, I am not an off-the-rack, $100-used-on-special size. I have a long foot and a short calf. Riding boots are not made for the likes of me. By the time you fit my foot, the leg is two inches too long. Since you have to be able to bend the knee to ride, never mind walk, this is not a viable option.
Back in the day, I used to go to the Tack Room in Westport and buy semi-custom: fit the foot, get the nice man to build the tops. Those were not the best boots; they wore out fast. Finally I broke down and, just before I moved to Tucson, went hardcore. Full custom. Dehners. Vogels are pricier, but Dehners are built to last. The hunter princesses adore their Vogels. The dressage queens go for Dehners, Koenigs, or Cavallos.
Then I moved to Tucson. And went from a sedentary lifestyle to a very active one. And, well, got middle-aged.
And the beautiful custom Dehners, which were built to hold up for at least twenty years...no longer fit. I could get the tops adjusted, but not the feet, and my feet had gone splat. No more sitting at desks in nice little pumps. All that running around the barn in riding sneakers did my feet in.
Dehners cost the ever-living earth. So the beautiful custom pair with my name stamped inside in gold sat in the closet, and I rode in riding sneakers or, at best, Ariats. The Ariats with half-chaps are OK for clinics and casual riding, but they aren't quite the thing for shows. And I want to show da Pook within the year, the Mother Ship (i.e. finances and transport) willing.
Last winter I decided to bite the bullet. Took the combined "mad money" from all the new contracts and put it together and went in and had Jerri do the very meticulous measuring and fitting. And then I waited.
And yesterday Jerri e-mailed: "They're here!"
So today I went and determined that yea, verily, they are here, and they do fit (though until they're broken in they're going to be a bit challenging to get into and out of). And now there is a pair of Very Expensive Black Leather Objects sitting in a box on the dining-room table. I can't just put them on to break them in; I'll have to have someone here to help me in and out of them. So, Joni gets elected on lesson day. I'm also under orders only to ride in them (not walk and by god not muck stalls in them!) for the first few weeks, until they've softened up. French calf, Olympic tops, rubber soles, inside gussets--aahhh, the pornography of good leather.
But that was not all. We got to talking about the marketers' perception of riders versus the reality. Marketers see twig-thin barely adolescent girls. Real riders, especially in dressage, are predominantly ladies of a certain age and a certain weight, who last saw the twiggy phase when they were about eight years old. If that late. And I lamented that dressage coats are incredibly weirdly sized, and I'm stuck with custom there as well. (Breeches and shirts and such, thank goodness, are much easier; I have a bust and shoulders, but no hips to speak of.)
But no! said Jerri. We just fitted, off the rack, a lady much bigger than you. And instructed her assistant to go to the back room and bring out the coats.
And lo and behold, I can too wear a coat off the rack, in a more or less normal size, rather than a $300 "larger ladies" model. And now, for a lovely price, I have a handsome black wool-blend dressage coat with silver buttons (four down the front, two on the back above the vent--three and no vent buttons is a hunt coat: you learn something every day). And not only that, I'll have to have it taken in; shoulders and bust are just fine, but the rest is overly loose.
Altogether, a good hunt. A very good hunt indeed.
