I saw these cowboy boots when I was at a horse show with my sister where she was selling her book about her work with horses. I walked past the booth 5 or 6 times and kept telling myself that I really did NOT need a fancy pair of cowboy boots for my life in the city. The 7th time I walked by I totally bought them on a whim, something I hardly ever do. But I couldn't resist. They took me back to my intense love of horses as a child. The days reading every Misty of Chincoteague book written. To my collection of horse models that lined my bedroom shelves. To the joy of riding at the farm next door to my grandparent's home. They drew me to a part of me that is typically hidden in my big city life. To a part of me very different from the heels I wear to work every day. They reminded me of a life that was simple and slow and not rushed and crazy. And they feel fantastic. Seriously fantastic. And I feel seriously fantastic wearing them. Sometimes an object (or a pair of objects) just calls to a part of you that you might not have even remembered was there. Pay attention.
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