Horses are cute. And pretty. They can be a little scary, too, what with those enormous teeth.
They can also be scary when they hate you. I've only had one run-in with a frighteningly vicious horse and it was many years ago. Somehow, my very unfortunate experience with a nasty horse named "Shirley" did not sour my opinion of horses all around. Shirley was a doozy. Ok, FINE. I'll tell you about it, since you forced me. But I'll make it snappy. It's so much better in person, because I can act it out. I'll do my best virtually.
Tranquil horses before the equestrian storm of a story you're about to hear. Photo by Roberto Dutesco
My Grandmother lived in Amarillo, TX, and for family reunions, we often went to Palo Duro Canyon State Park, where we would roam around the canyon atop horses, chug around on a touristy little train, go on hayrides, and the like. Our last fateful visit to the Canyon started out as all the others had. We were at the ranch and horses were being assigned to each family member (there were at least 14 of us). As each person's horse was brought over, he or she would acquainted with their new equine friend. I was one of the last to be assigned, so I spent some time looking at the horses hanging out. As I scanned the pen, I saw a horse in the distance, on her back flailing around like a lunatic. All the other horses were moving away, looking at her like she was cray-cray. So I muttered something to the effect of, "I hope I don't get THAT one." Guess who got that one? That's right, ME. Her name was Shirley; isn't that just the perfect name for a crazy horse? I am not kidding, this is what I saw.
Now, I'm not particularly confrontational, but I could foresee a disaster, so I pleaded with the ranch hand to please give me a different horse. He insisted I'd be fine. I insisted I would not, explaining that I had almost no experience with horses (two horseback riding lessons does not an expert make). He refused to budge, I lost the battle and off we go, at the mercy of large beasts with tiny, skinny legs.
As we tromped through brush and wilderness, naturally, the horses wanted to eat leaves and whatnot. We were instructed to just tug a little on the bit and they'd stop. Not Shirley. A few tugs from me and suddenly I found my leg in her mouth. A little harsh, but I rolled with it. We keep walking, she keeps trying to snarf shrubs, my leg keeps winding up in her mouth. Not cool, girl. At some point, she gets agitated and starts turning on her axis, bumping into my mother's horse behind me and eventually kicking that horse in the face. I began to imagine my mom and I in the midst of a horse fight, helplessly gripping the reins for dear life. To my relief, my mother's horse remained calm and unaffected, which was too much for Shirley to handle; the girl wanted to fight. So she fought me instead, by trying to buck me off.
Of course, that sent me into a tantrum and I started crying about how I was going to die and I wanted to ride with my mom. I was 12 or something; riding with another adult was not an option. So, I forged on like a grown up, until we got to a little babbling brook. Amarillo is pretty arid and desert-ish. There was no water in sight on any of our previous sojourns to the Canyon. In fact, the canyon was formed by water erosion in the first place. So why now, why when I'm at the mercy of a cantankerous horse named Shirley, does water materialize?! I halted the entire excursion to find out from the guide if the horses liked to bathe in the water. He said it had been known to happen. Well, I knew Shirley wouldn't be able to resist taking me for a dip in the water, so I made everyone turn around like a little brat and avoid the stream. Whatever; no one was having fun with me weeping and complaining the whole time, anyway!
As soon as the ranch came into view, Shirley made a run for it. She was galloping like a mustang to get home and get rid of me. But before we made it, she decided to idiotically drag me through a tree, which she also got caught in and from which her scrawny little legs had to be de-tangled. To add insult to injury, a branch ripped a hole in my favorite shirt, which, coincidently, depicted a tree and implored readers to "Reduce, Reuse and Recycle." I was so environmentally aware, don't you think? Needless to say, I was pretty cranky for the rest of the visit, as was captured, reprinted and catalogued in several family photo albums in which everyone is smiling and I am scowling.
Despite my single bad experience with horses, I really do like them; they are stately, graceful and very curious creatures. We see a lot of them on jaunts through Central Park, and a few horses live down the street from Oliver's parents (not alone. Duh).
Lately, my awareness of horses has been heightened because they seem to be showing up all over place, whether in prints, wallpaper, textiles, accessories, or lighting – with more to come, if the latest Anthropologie catalogue and the wares at the recent New York International Gift Show are any indication.
Those of you with a few thousand dollars jingling around in your pockets should pick up some scarves from Hermes:
Sweater and horse figurine from Anthropologie, horse purse from equineno.com, horse print scarf, boots from Anthropologie
Sweater from Anthropologie, Vivienne Westwood purse, wellies from Best Horse Gifts
Girls shouldn't have all the fun; deck your man out in this sweater:
Or don't – I don't think Oliver would accept money to wear that.
Fun ways to display equestrian achievements and paraphernalia:
Left: Country Living; Right: Madonna in Ashcombe House, via Habitually Chic
Also from the Badgley-Mishka manse:
Robert Dutesco's photos (from above) in context:
A few more horse accessories to round out your growing collection:
It. Was. Fantastic. Everyone had great work to show (and sell). I wanted to share with you my personal favorites. By the way, get a load of the kid doing a backbend on the sofa in the background of the photo above. I didn't notice him until I was uploading these photos–hilarious!
