Stepping into the pair of cowboy boots for the first time, I was expecting to be met with resistance or discomfort, some sort of constriction or unfamiliarity that required adjustment or force. I was shocked to feel my feet slip into place without pain or struggle, shoehorn or lubricant. It was as if my feet were coming home, returning to a place they’d never known but always belonged. Sliding my jeans over them and standing up fully, I instantly felt something I have rarely felt, something that everyone assumes I have in spades: swagger. Taking a few steps in anything but tentative fashion, I finally understood what swagger was, and how it felt to have it.
One walks differently in cowboy boots. The heel is markedly higher than most of my shoes, and for a guy largely unaccustomed to high heels (against all popular belief) it’s a drastic change. They push you forward, as if some dusty guiding hand from a past life is physically encouraging you to keep going. At the same time, they set your upper body back, as if your shoulders and head are compensating for the forward inclination by rearing backwards a bit, which somehow makes for a more relaxed and confident carriage.
Steps feel more deliberate, more certain and sure – no more gingerly alighting on the tips of toes or carefully prancing about a bed of stinging nettles – these boots were made for walking, offering protection up to and encasing the calves. Fortified and armored by leather and studs, the sureness of my footfalls lends a confidence and, yes, a swagger that others may have attributed to the image and idea that preceded my expected appearance anywhere. Only now did I feel it myself, emanating from within for the first time, when it had only ever been on the outside. What utter and laughable irony that such internal validation should come about from putting on a pair of cowboy boots – and how utterly fitting it is at the same time. My life – my worth – dictated and divined by a pair of shoes.
Cowboys they are ladies men all right they’ll love ’em up and talk ’em up all night
But they’re lonely when there’s nothing else to do
And that’s what makes the cowboys sing the blues
He does a little Shakespeare and he sings, he plays the mandolin and other things
He looks for love beauty and IQ and that’s what makes the cowboy sing the blues
Cowboys have to fall in love get hurt and all that bit
Let their hearts hang out so they can write you all a hit
So ladies if they ask you don’t refuse let’s all help the cowboys sing the blues
Cowboys they don’t ever understand this thing between a woman and a man
Until they find the one they always lose
That’s what makes the cowboys sing the blues
A cowboy takes his lonely pen in hand and tries to make somebody understand
But she has ears to hear a different tune
And that’s what makes the cowboy sing the blues
Cowboys have to fall in love…
Let’s all help the cowboys sing the blues
