There was a time when I was cool, or at least thought I was. I had long hair, played guitar and was in good shape. I was a rocker with torn jeans and boots. Cowboy boots to be specific. Although more associated with the wild west and country music, there was a time when cowboy boots were rock-n-roll. I had a few pairs with exotic skins including snakeskin, shark, and ostrich. I think I still have a pair around here somewhere. I don’t think I could wear them now if I tried. The last time I wore them I was amazed at the high heels that I didn’t remember being an issue when I was younger. Considering I’m 6’2″ tall, I must have been a towering figure. Made it easy to look around the bar, I guess.
There is a western wear store near where I’m working that has a large display of boots that can be seen through the large store window. I spotted them coming home from work one evening and thought I would be able to get a nice shot of the boots from outside. It’s usually too busy in the evening and the traffic reflects in the window too much to try to attempt a photo then, so when I saw that the lights inside were on in the early morning today, I thought that would be a good time to get a shot, since no one was around and the traffic was almost nonexistent. It was still fairly low light so I used the Super-Takumar 50mm lens around f/2 and a higher ISO to get the shots. Now excuse me while I go play some Van Halen on my guitar…..sans boots 😉
Boots
© David Guidas
What I Pic 
I have one pair of cowboy boots my mom bought me at a tack shop where we used to have a local rodeo. I LOVE them and wear them all to seldom. They are now and probably always will be my favorite pair of shoes!!!
I always liked my boots and appreciate the “personality” of cowboy boots. Though it would take some practice to wear them again, LOL.
I still have my cowboy boots but never wear them anymore. Every time I look at them the memory (comes back) of hitchhiking out of Detroit (in the snow) on my way to Toronto, cowboy boots dangling from my neck, sleeping bag under my arm, and clutching the thick book “The English Philosophers From Bacon To Mill” that I just purchase from Hudson’s downtown department store—all the while asking people on the street which way to Toronto. The looks I got were priceless! Back then I was cool (or at least I thought I was). Nice post.
It’s too bad when you get older you think too much about what you’re doing.