It's all about the Bling. The Making of a Rodeo Cowgirl

The World's biggest rodeo is in full swing so it is only fitting that Tom Berenger and I would trot our tiny tot , Trixie, out for the show.  For some folks, rodeo is about the competition. It is about the dedication to man and beast and the years of training involved to make rodeo the incredible event that our state is so proud of. For me, it is about the outfit. And this year, as Trixie informed me, rodeo is about the bling.
I have spent years, and more money than I can allow Tom Berenger to think about, creating my rodeo persona. Hats of every style, antique leather jackets, turquoise jewelry, and western outfits to rival anything seen on the Country Western circuit fill one closet in my swankienda. When it comes to authentic cowboy boots I am a purist. Only Lucchesse, made in Texas, with a riding heel. I am, to coin a phrase, "All Hat and no Cattle". This week I have been in my favorite black boots, so well worn I can walk all day in them. Since our entire city and everyplace within 100 miles is in rodeo regalia, I incorporate my western flair into my wardrobe sometimes during the week. This past Friday, I had a great casual-money look going on by way of my jeans, crisp white shirt, silver concho belt, and fabu turquoise necklace & earrings. Since it was windy, I threw on a kickin' wrap and headed over to Trixie's school for early-release day. I parked, threw on my RayBans, and walked confidently over to the school yard where my tot was waiting with some other children and their mother. When she saw me, Trix came running, threw her arms around me and said "ma'am, I love when you have bling. Rodeo this year is all about the bling, you know". Well no, I hadn't thought of it that way, but the child is always ahead of her time. In the car she says, " You know what Mrs Cindy said when she saw you, ma'am? She said "My Goodness"!".  I don't know Mrs Cindy but obviously she is a girl of strong opinion. "I wonder why she said that, Trix?". Trixie said it was because Mrs.Cindy was a housewife and only had boys so she didn't really know bling. I would have to agree.

On Saturday we prepared for the Big Day. Trixie was in her jeans and shirt, black boots, and last year's hat. She was rather pleased with her initial outfit, but felt the need for bling. In her dress up box,  hot pink crystal earrings (handy downs from one of the nieces) that work nicely with her color scheme are scored. Combing through the box of"throw down" cowgirl stuff, we find a necklace that says "Cowgirls Rock". It is a must have. I braid her long blond hair, get all her accessories in place, and off we go .Before getting underway, I decide I will need to stop at the local cowboy store for a hat brush.TomB stays in the truck listening to Carolina basketball on the radio, Trixie bounds out behind me.

 While my black Stetson is being steamed and brushed, my little shopper spies a pink Stetson that she will "die for". Of course, now she will need pink boots. After I get those in a size 1.5, she reminds me that if she got a bling belt, she could look just like me. What an aspiration, and to think I can make that a reality if we work fast enough! With the help of the western wear sales lady, we have the child completely outfitted and paid for, my black hat snugly in place and back in the KingRanch Edition F150 before TomB feels the small dent in his wallet.

We arrive at the arena and my family departs for the Fatstock Show. They are off to the swine section and I'm off to serious shopping opportunities. After a few hours, we catch back up. While enjoying my Margarita,  Trixie asks if she can have a pig. Seems that she has been visiting with a little boy who has a big pink pig he can sleep on.  She has also played  with rabbits, watched mama pigs give birth, watched chickens hatching, and even saw a man demonstrate milking a cow named "Ma'am". I order another Margarita.

After leaving our fine dining place advertising "Rednecks at Play", we head on to the animal arenas. Many photo ops of Tom and our pup, then I realize Trixie is getting excited about something important. Mutton Busting. Never heard of it? Me either. Until I watch as my blinged out baby is being weighed ,waivered, and fitted with headgear to compete in a sheep riding event. Tom B is beside himself. He makes sure she is properly suited up in protective gear and then gives her pointers of being a competitor in the mutton racing arena. Head down, squeeze the sheep with your legs, and hold on with all you have.

Like the proud parent I am, I quickly find myself a front row seat, camera at the ready. After several less than stellar rides, a little boy on a sheep named "ShamWow" makes it all the way to the end of the arena. And into the wall. Surrounded by the herd. He is retrieved by the rodeo clown and the announcer gives him a score of 97. The crowd goes wild. Finally, the moment we've been waiting for: Trixie, riding a sheep named Charlie Sheeeep is in the gate. The buzzer sounds and she is OFF and Running! Using the Berenger technique, all 60 pounds of her is squeezing the guts out of the mutton, little fingers embedded in the curly wool. She lopes past me and is heading for the end zone. And she makes it!The clown retrieves her and raises her arms in victory. I go crazy! Back to  the rider box she goes to wait for the finale. As the riders proudly march back out to center arena, we hear the scores being announced. Trixie is the girl high score of the event. We are so proud.

Not since the our nephew, Texas Ranger, and his team won the football championship have I seen my husband so excited. His girl is a champion. Not just any sport. But the elite of Rodeo competition. My blinged out baby girl is an official ribbon winner of the Mutton Buster Competition. You know what this means, of course.  There is a Dale Evans outfit in my future. For sure.
I remain,
The Fabulous Ma'am