Denver 30: 23
I am a wanna-be cowgirl, minus the cows. Living on a ranch with the wide open space, a few small animals (namely of the fowl and canine variety) and vast horizons that would make Georgia O’keeffe whistle? Sign this reformed city girl up.
It isn’t like Phoenix is without the western influence — but I paid little attention. Like those metal kokopellis on houses of folk you know must be new to town, I never paid a lick of attention to the boot and Wrangler shops in Old Town.
Apparently it took a move to get my inner cowgirl to giddyup. And boy, does she love some boots. And chunky turquoise and silver jewelry. And the “western morality” any cowboy here will gladly share. I blame the wedding this summer in Wyoming for stoking my love of all things western. Stores like Cry Baby Ranch in Larimer Square simply fan the flames. This store is my heaven — a perfect mixture of cowgirl western and Mexican Frida influence.