Saturday, 3 November 2018

The Unending Tale of White Breeches

One of my unwritten goals this year was to cut way back on unnecessary horse expenditures. Forget the vet and farrier bills--those don't count as I'm never going to apologize for throwing dolla dolla bills in the air in that category.

However, I did spend almost five thousand dollars on tack and gear last year. That's an obscene amount of dolla dolla bills. Of course a lot of that was from the Stubben I bought that didn't work for me which I then sold, and the County that replaced it. The last $1,000 of the County got paid off this year (which still makes me twitch a little as this saddle was more expensive than my horse trailer, never mind the bargain-priced horse himself), so I know that year end number is again going to be higher than I want. But I do feel like I tried to keep a wrap on my spending on everything else.

One thing I couldn't get away from shelling out money on was a new pair of white breeches.

MUCH TO MY FUCKING DISMAY.

much loved old breeches at dopie's second show

My old breeches were a now discontinued pair of Devon Aires with a suede full seat and unobtrusive velcro bottoms. They had no back pockets and deep enough front pockets that I could stuff my phone in for walks without worrying about it falling out. The belt loops were generous enough to fit my C4 belt without being so large that I had to go out and buy an obnoxiously wide belt to fill them. The fabric was soft and light, and I could chuck them in the washer without any special treatment. And I think they cost me all of $60 when I bought them six years ago.

Basically they were the most perfect breeches ever.

Until the crotch split wide open beyond all repair.

it was at this show where my horse was a colossal shit. death of favorite breeches
and naughty AF baby horse did not make for a fun day.

I happen to be in the minority in that I love the look of white breeches. I also really enjoy keeping my grey horse clean so maybe there's just something inherently wrong with me. It turns out that part of the reason I'm not adverse to wearing them is because my original pair were so flattering. They never showed any lumps or bumps, they weren't flaunting my panty line (and bitch please, I am not wearing a thong for a horse show), and I didn't have to worry about anything being see-through. When I started shopping, I realized that not all breeches were created equal forgiving.

I wanted to keep my budget for a new pair around $100. I personally don't think that's an absurd request, although I appeared to be in the minority. I've never paid more than that for a pair of breeches in my life, and I don't plan on ever doing so.

My first go-to was Riding Warehouse. I don't usually shop there because their selection is so limited and their shipping is glacial out to the east coast, but every now and then I find a crazy good deal in their closeouts. I ended up with two pairs of Horze breeches for $40. I had a pair of Horze breeches a million years ago and I remembered them being a thicker fabric, but nice enough.

not horze breeches. 

These ended up being the most unflattering breeches ever. I'm not sure how such thick fabric can create such a lovely display of thigh cellulite, but these did beyond imagining. I tried them on, took one look in the mirror, and sent them right back. The other pair I bought were purple, and while I rode in them one whole time, they didn't sit right on me either and they moved on to Andrea.

After a lot of browsing, I decided I liked the look and reviews of the Equine Couture breeches. The best price I found on them was on Victory Canter, so I placed my order and waited.

And waited some more.

After not getting any confirmation of shipping in over a week, I finally emailed them--because those of you that have used Victory Canter before know that email is the only way to contact them. Which is weird. To their credit, they replied quickly. Only their reply was, "Oh, we don't have 32s in stock anymore. We sent you an email that said that!" They hadn't. "We can send you a 30 or a 34 instead." I'm a 30 in pretty much everything, but I'd read that these run small. At this point, I had a show rapidly approaching and just needed some fucking breeches. I conveyed that urgency and told them to send a pair of 30s.

we had fancy prancing to attend to!

Again, to their credit, they made up for their mistake and overnighted me those bitches post haste with a promise of free returns if they didn't work for me. I tried to shimmy into them and barely got them over my thighs. Forget zipping them. Plus they were way too short. I was deep in the crazy trenches at this point and desperate for breeches, but I wasn't that desperate. I emailed my friendly customer service contact and asked her to facilitate a return. She got me a paid return bag within a couple days and back they went.

Where I then waited some more.

After nearly two weeks of waiting for my return to pop up in my checking account, I emailed again and, to their credit (anyone else getting annoyed at this point?), the money popped right up.

IN THE MEANTIME!

The saga comes to a unsatisfactory close.

these fucking breeches.
flattering from the ground, THE WORST in the saddle.

I finally just went and bought a pair of Pipers. Because SmartPak gets things to me quickly and cheaply. They're the silicone grip full seats with a different fabric from the regular run of the mill Pipers. Which is great because those are heavy and hot and last for shit. I like the fabric on these, and they didn't add to my propensity to sweat like a pig at shows. #klassy They fit great and they don't show my underthings--panty lines or fat lines.

They are, however, the. fucking. worst. to ride in.

there they are, slowly eating my stirrup leathers.

So at first it was just that they chafed wherever the silicone grip lay against my leg. Fine, that's fair, I'm a sweaty person and it was a hot summer. I applied Body Glide the next time out and solved that problem. But they were also sucking my stirrup leathers up under my leg in the saddle. I had to pull the tail of the leathers out of their keepers and let them dangle so they would stop bunching under my thigh as I rode. And they just stuck more than I needed them to. Like when I had to go back to change my stock tie and my ass was essentially glued to the saddle which meant I half slid, half ripped myself free and earned a giant saddle stain down one leg--which then took five thousand soaks and washes to get out.

I was over buying breeches at that point, so I finished out the season in them, but they will be getting stuffed in my trailer as an emergency back up pair next year. I'm not looking forward to going through the process of trying to find the perfect pair again, but these just won't do.

old breeches last ride. they were as done with life as opie was.

Has anyone else experienced such a colossal cluster fuck when it came to buying one single, solitary item of clothing? Or am I the only crazy person that can't make a pair of fancy pants work for shows only?

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