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“You know that blonde from Texas”, was the description he used. Piper replied, “do you mean Kath?” He did not know my name, but I had become the blonde from Texas…It was a laugh out loud moment when my friend Piper realized it was me, Kath, that he spoke of. Born and bred in New England, as a sailor, always on the water, the vision of me being “the girl from Texas” really struck her funny bone.
Cowboy boots have always been part of me. At 3 walking down the catwalk of my parents sailboat; I had to have my cowboy boots with me. In high school trudging through the New England winter, my cowboy boots were still with me….even in college in Maine, my cowboy boots came along with me. I had different kinds and different colors, but no shoes felt as good and embraced my spirit as much. When all my friends embraced clogs as the comfort/fashion shoe…I stuck with my cowboy boots; but until recently I never really knew how utilitarian my boots could be!!
A great day this summer out on a northern New England beach…a long day of swimming, sunning and kicking the soccer ball around with my sons and a host of friends was coming to a close, but we just didn’t want the day to end. So, we stayed a bit too long and the tide was out a bit too far for us to return the boat by engine to our mooring. We reside a small way in from the ocean and are lucky enough to have a river which pulls into our neighborhood. As we approached the cree where our mooring is located, we had to make the decision to hop off the boat and pull it the rest of the way as the tide was out too far….everyone put on their shoes and allie-ooped over the side. I however, had my cowboy boots…the comments started flying…her and her crazy boots!!!! Well, as we walked across the creek toward home, the marsh mud was like quick sand and folks started loosing their shoes. Feet in sneakers were pulled down a foot into the mud only to return to the surface without the sneaker. Flip-flops, forget it. They were long gone! I, however, with my cowboy boots was the only one to make it back to shore with both shoes, never having been pulled over into the smelly, slimy mud. As the remaining eight crew members worked their way toward shore, many without shoes at this point, they began to call out to me to toss my cowboy boots to them so they could make it through the clam infested mud without cutting their feet. Being a cowboy boot spirited person, I was only too happy to hurl my boots to them one at a time while they made it to shore with safe feet. Finally, with the whole crew safe on shore, smelling like the undeniable stink of low tide in the marsh, we had a good laugh at the fact that my cowboy boots, the same boots that they think I’m crazy for wearing in New England on a boat were the savior of the day!!
I rinsed them off that night when we returned home and although they’ve never smelled quite the same, they still are a big part of me!! Not a Texan, but a New Englander!!!

When I was in college, I bought a new pair of Justin bullhide boots. They were probably the best set of boots I had bought thus far. Comfortable, solid, tough. Little did I know how tough they really were.

I have definitely put the miles on these boots - from walking to class everyday, to working in the yard, to construction, to hiking in Hawaii, to walking the Vegas strip end to end. Every year, they were in desperate need of resoling and reheeling. But between myself and a faithful boot repair store, they kept in pretty good shape throughout the years.

Then there was the fateful moving day. I had just bought a house in a new town about 60 miles away. After a few days of moving boxes and furniture from one place to another, my Justins finally gave in. I noticed that both outer sides of my boots had ripped open. I was devistated! I’ve had these boots for 10 years by now and have taken me everywhere.

I soon was able to get over my grief when my trusty boot repair store was able to patch the sides. They were no longer everyday boots, but I couldn’t just let them go. So they became my regular work boots. Working in the yard, constructing a new finished basement, woodworking, or just camping - they were still there.

A few years later, I was on a camping and float trip with friends - and yes, my Justins were with me. At a point in the 10 hour float trip, I happened to take off my Justins for a moment. Shortly thereafter, we hit a bend in the river. What I didn’t see immediately after the bend was a fallen tree on the inner bank. The tree had created a fast and turbulent current that drove most of us towards it. I hit the tree and dispite best efforts, the canoe was sucked under the tree by the current - taking with it everything in the canoe - boots and all.

But they weren’t to be done in by nature either. A canoe that flipped ahead of me had already recovered and was able to pick up items as the rest of us fell victim to the same fate. They swiped up my boots (and other items) as they floated down the river. A little soggy - but at that point, so was I! After the trip was finished, we all sat by the fire with supper and relived the trip. I sat down in my chair and relaxed in a dry set of clothes while my Justins sat calmly by the fire and dried out. A bit of TLC and saddlesoap later, they were doing just fine.

It’s now been 15 years and my Justins are still going strong. I’m looking forward to the next 15 years - whatever it may bring - those Justins will be there with me.

There they were…the boots of my dreams! In a thrift shop of all places…perfectly worn in, heels tapped, resoled, black lizard, and they were my size! It was like a dream come true…I could even afford them. My lucky day!

I was working on yachts at the time so it wasn’t like they were going to be looking hot with my every day attire but at the end of those long days, I could slip into my jeans, pull on those boots, and feel like a new women boot scootin down the dock….Speary top siders get out of the way because these boots are made for walkin and they are gonna walk all over you!

It was like they improved my pool game, dart game, and I could dance all night. It even seemed like I never got tired…like the boots had a momentum that just took me along for the ride. Let it be said that sailors like cowgirls!

Then, I got pregnant. It was a good thing and I was so happy. Until my feet swelled up and the boots wouldn’t go on no matter what I tried…so I waited, and waited. Finally the baby came and life was getting back to normal.

I was ready to thrash those flip flops and pull on my boots. I tried to deny it for a long time but it was just not going away. My feet had grown a whole size larger. No one had EVER mentioned this was a possibility and now all my girls were saying “oh yeah, that happens sometimes.” You think they might have mentioned this maybe a year ago so at least I could have made a choice. I mean I love my baby and know that my life is better because of him but…my boots! I held on to them for over a year hoping that maybe someday…but alas, I knew that I had to find the perfect person to wear them for me. It had be someone that had little feet…not an easy thing with all friends with many babies…and this person had to be in need of something to make her feel that way those boots made me feel. After a very long search I found the perfect friend…I knew they would serve her well and she would certainly appreciate their “specialness.” She is wearing them to this day and loving them…and I bought myself a bigger pair of Vintage Justin’s just to make it up to myself…and now I feel better about the whole loving and losing thing. My little boy likes to wear them and ride his stick horse, clicking his way down the hall. He doesn’t even know that I wouldn’t let anyone else even think about putting their foot into them…but for him, the world…even my boots!
Let it also be said that daddy’s like cowmammas…and Martha said ” thats a good thing.”