Yeehaw!

As we passed through Dallas, one of the girls read a description from the AAA book about the city being a cosmopolitan city, at the center of the southwest's culture, active in fashion and other industries. This led to a protracted debate about whehter one could consider Dallas to have anything to do with fashion. I said it could. Dixie said it couldn't. She was operating on the idea that fashion meant couture, runway shows, and Vogue. I took the term a little more loosly. Either way, there was some serious bickering. Maybe I was just getting overly defensive of my new part of the country.

We were heading for the Cowgirls. This was no Graceland. I knew why I wanted to go to the Cowgirl Museum and Hall of Fame in Fort Worth. I've had a long-standing fascination with Cowgirls. I keep dressing up as them for Halloween. I wear the boots. I'm infatuated with Tom Robbins's character Bonanza Jellybean.
Liz game me this shirt for my birthday one year. My grandmother brought me a tank top that says "Genuine Cowgirl, Superior Construction" when she went out West. So it's kind of a thing for me.
I fist learned that this museum existed from Peter -- he was living in Austin, and we considered going, but decided it was too far for the amount of time we had. (Still, props to him for offering.) Still, I didn't forget about it. And opportunity was knocking.

We pulled up, parking in the hot sun, and went inside, getting our sweet $1 discount from an internet coupon I'd printed out. The first floor had an exhibit all about riding, and the history thereof. There were hats and boots and saddles from many countries and many time periods, right up through today's saddle with a cell phone holder. (Nope, sorry, not kidding.)

Then, we flipped through their high-tech hall of flame display. I'm not exactly sure how it worked, but it was this big screen thing where you can scroll through everyone in the hall of fame. The classics are there, of course -- Annie Oakley, Dale Evans and what have you. But my personal fave? Sandra Day O'Connor.

We watched a corny movie about The Spirit of the Cowgirl. And then we went upstairs to see the rest of the exhibits.
There was one about actual farm/ranch life -- the hard day-to-day work of modern working cowgirls. Lots of pictures. Neat. There was a bunch of stuff about women getting the right to ride, and riding astride instead of sidesaddle. There were riding pants with a skirt that could button over the front so women wouldn't get arrested for being indecent.
And, of course, lots and lots and lots of boots and hats and beltbuckles.

Then we saw an exhibit about rodeo riding -- barrel racing and trick riding, mostly. Thoroughly enjoyable.

The whole thing was really nicely put together -- it was a nice blend of "exciting" stuff, the sterotypes that idiots like me eat up with a spoon, and real life info about the history and the work involved. Way to go, Fort Worth.

As with Graceland, we finished in a round... Dixie, Looseahatchie, Antelope. but that's okay. There was a gift shop.

Which was kind of lame. They had a lot of sort of generic western gifts, many of which were quite expensive. After some digging, I managed to find a bandana, printed with "National Cowgirl Museum and Hall of Fame," a shot glass, and a bumper sticker that says "My Heroes Have Always Been Cowgirls." But honesly? I'd hoped for more tacky, kitchy, fun souvenirs.

Coming up: Texas as its own country. (It's bigger than France!)