What's Inside

When I suffered my epiphany and decided to test the waters of eventing once again I was in a quandary. I had a very nice, nearly new dressage saddle, but I was lacking a jump saddle. Lacking, as in none, nilch, nada, nowhere to be found sort of lacking. Thank God for great friends and local gems. My dear friend Caroline proudly offered up her retired Stubben Parzival (which is nearly extinct on the internet and no longer even made) saddle for my use. Actually, she pretty much shoved it in my general direction since she had long ago replaced it with a newer Stubben Parzival. We aged eventers are nothing if not habitual and slightly set in our ways!

Like most odd minded, middle-aged women I have my quirks, one of which is naming things. Oh come on now, I know I’m not the only one out there! My truck has a name. My car has a name. In fact, I can recite in order the names of each and every vehicle I have ever owned. Naming inanimate objects allows me to connect with them on a more personal level as in: “Come on Steele, we have two more exits until a safe (a relative word) gas station. When we get there you can cool down.” Get the picture.

So, my new (cough) saddle has been dubbed ‘Stewie’, which is short for Stubben. As it turns out, Stewie was purchased in Germany, just two years after I was born. (cough, cough!) After travelling to the US of A he later changed hands and my friend Caroline inherited him. Stewie has been on the backs of some very nice horses, and has seen some incredible events, many of which no longer exist. He has born the brunt of rotational falls, more than one swim in a water jump, the application of several unsightly leather patches, new billets, and very few instances of conditioning or oiling through the years. Through all this Stewie has survived, his tree and stirrup bars intact.

Thankfully, Stewie appears to fit Lexi and they are getting along well. For now.

When Caroline first graced me with Stewie I was beyond excited. That was, until I started noticing all of the riders out there with impeccably matched tack, right down to their color coordinated cross country ensembles and I found myself asking, ‘when did this happen?’ I started to frantically click through page after page on the internet studying the modern day Adult Amateur and Master riders and very rarely did I find a horse and rider combo that didn’t look like a fashion statement.

Back when, I knew riders who owned one brown bridle, which they used for all 3 phases, and no it did not match their dressage saddles. Considering your buttocks, thighs, and jacket cover most of the saddle we never thought much about matching. In fact many of us owned just one saddle. White and black saddle pads were the norm and most of the riders I knew used black for dressage since it would hide dirt. Eventers as I knew them were always more concerned with function rather than fashion. If it wasn’t broke, they didn’t fix it or buy something new just to make a statement.

So, here we are 10 days out from our first schooling show at Rocking Horse and I have one black DQ-esque (complete with the blingy browband) bridle, one black dressage saddle, and Stewie, my brown 40 ish year old wonder saddle. Once again, I find myself on the fringe.

Call the fashion police! We’ve got a major violation over here.

It’s a good thing my thighs and buttocks will cover just a wee bit more of my un-matching saddle now isn’t it?

So, if you see Stewie, Lexi and I navigating the Tadpole division with our fashion forward dressage bridle stop and say ‘hello’. Lord knows I will probably need a good laugh.

* Notice the strategically placed hole in the saddle skirt. There is a matching hole in the leather of the pommel. To add more character, some sort of hard plastic is peeking out from the leather of the cantle. Unseen is a large patch of leather on the underside of one of the flaps, which covers another unsightly gape in the leather.

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