Dear Ariat

Dear Ariat,

I feel like our time has come to call this what it is and find the real inner Horsechick that I think I've lost.  We've been together a long, long time, and I'll be honest, you've given me just about everything I've ever needed in my professional life when it comes to hardworking footwear.  You've stuck with me since high school and my first pair of Fat Baby's, they were great!  Yeah, I know everyone made fun of them for being such a hideous shade of turquoise, but I knew your motive; no one steals ugly boots.  Thank you for that built-in hidden security measure.  Even when I got bucked clean out of them, and looked up from the ground to see them still in the stirrups on my horse, I knew we had a relationship that would last.  You had my back and rode that bitch of a mare out to win in the end, and I appreciate that.

But you see, the thing of it is, you're just not holding up to my standards the way that you used to.  I know you've done so much for our relationship in the past, but these days, I can't help but notice that as I've lowered my expectations more and more, in hopes that you'll take notice and step up, but that's just not happening.  I just don't know what else to do...couple's counseling?  Would you consider it if I found us a good therapist?

The last pair of boots I bought from you were the freshly-vomited-mustard shade of yellow Cobalt Crepe XRs.  They were so goddamn ugly even fresh out of the box (at least you were consistent on that end), and I immediately felt like I'd channeled my inner Big Bird with the ostrich print, but after a month of walking around in two pairs of socks with my feet covered in blisters in the July heat, I finally had them broken in exactly the way I needed them.

The Cobalts survived nearly two years with me.  But after those two glorious years of wearing them almost daily for barn chores and riding, (but not to work at Bass Pro, that awful shade of yellow clashed so badly with the green uniform shirt, even I couldn't make it work), time has taken it's toll.  The yellow is now more of a baby-shit-banana, and the corners on both the inside AND the outside of the balls of feet have cracked and split.  Now don't get me wrong, I don't expect you to hold up to my daily wear and tear (and probably a little of what could be considered abuse) without any love and TLC, I took care of these babies.  They were cleaned, conditioned, oiled, you name it.  But time is a bitch on ugly leather (just ask Joan Rivers), and there's only so much I can do.  The soles have worn so unevenly (not your fault, I know), that I physically can't stand up straight in them.  I loved the full crepe sole, they lasted a lot longer than some of my other boots, so props to you for that.  But here's some of what I'm talking about...

You see that GIGANTIC hole in the side?  That's not a sexy peep-hole, Ariat.  People can clearly see my sock through that, and to me, that's crossing the line of acceptability.  And believe it or not, patching it with a rubber tire patch from the outside OR the inside just doesn't work, just like our relationship can't be patched up any more.  Yes, I tried.  I tried like hell to save what I could of these boots, just like I've tried like hell to save our relationship, Ariat.  Maybe I really DO have a problem letting go, just like my friends say.  They tell me I should have dumped you a long time ago, that they never really liked you anyway.  The truth is, I feel like I'm beating a dead horse here, so I went out and I met someone...well...two guys, actually.

Tony Lama and his buddy Justin are really nice guys.  Yeah, they don't have all the glitz and glamor of a marketing program like you did, Ariat, but it seems like I might be a little more compatible with the two of them combined than I was with just one of you.  Call me a dirty whore, make all the gangbang and threesome jokes that you want, but ya know, if it takes two guys to satisfy me the way that you just can't anymore, than you shouldn't feel like any less of a company as a whole.  I just have needs, and you weren't getting them met.  I'm sorry.

I hope we can still be friends.  Maybe get together for coffee or something next time you're in town?  Tell your parents I send my best.  I'll always have a special place in my heart for you, please know that.

Sincerely,
Horsechick