Hey y'all,
I want to start a little series with you. Call it a running list of the things I've come to believe — the small, stubborn truths I keep circling back to. And I'm starting with the one that took me the longest to learn.
Buy the boots because you love the boots.
That's it. That's the whole gospel.
Not because they're on sale. Not because you've done the math and figured out they'll cost you eleven cents per wear if you keep them for a decade. Not because they're “an investment” or “a classic” or “something you'll have forever.” Buy them because the second you slipped them on, something in your chest went yes.
The Cost-Per-Wear Trap
Y'all know the game. You find the thing — the boots, the fringe jacket, the turquoise cuff that catches the light just right — and before you even get to the register, your brain starts running numbers like an accountant with a clipboard.
How many times will I actually wear these? What else do they go with? Is this practical? Is this responsible?
And listen, I'm not knocking a budget. I run a business. I know what it means to watch the numbers. But somewhere along the way, a lot of us started treating every single joyful purchase like it had to defend itself in court. Like happiness needed a spreadsheet to justify its existence.
It doesn't.
Practicality Doesn't Have to Win Every Argument
Here's what I've learned after enough girls' trips, enough winery afternoons, enough getting-ready-in-a-hotel-bathroom-laughing-with-my-people moments to know:
The most practical thing I own has never once made me feel like me.
The boots did. The dress I had zero occasions for did. The ridiculous wine glass with the hand-painted bluebonnets that I absolutely did not need did. Those are the things that show up in the memories. Nobody's ever pulled up a photo from a trip and said, “Wow, look how sensibly I dressed.”
Practicality is a wonderful roommate. But she should not get to run the whole house.
If It Fits Your Budget and Makes You Ridiculously Happy, That Counts
I need you to hear this part especially.
This is not permission to blow the rent on rhinestones. That's not what I'm saying, and you know it. The whole thing rests on one honest little checkpoint: does it fit your budget?
If it does — if it's money you can spend without robbing Peter, Paul, or the electric company — then the joy it brings you is a completely valid reason to buy it. Full stop.
“It made me happy” is a real reason. It's not a lesser reason. It's not the reason you whisper apologetically at checkout. Joy counts. Delight counts. The way you feel walking a little taller in boots that make you feel unstoppable — that counts.
We spend so much of our lives being the responsible one. The planner. The one who remembers everybody's coffee order and packs the extra phone charger. You are allowed — every now and then — to buy something for the pure, uncomplicated reason that you loved it.
What This Actually Looks Like
Western style isn't a costume anymore, and it hasn't been for a while now. Boots have earned a permanent spot in the everyday wardrobe — worn with the sundress, the good jeans, the outfit that has nothing to do with a rodeo and everything to do with how you want to feel walking into the room.
That's the version of the western lifestyle I love. Not dressing up as somebody. Dressing like the most you version of you.
So the next time you find the thing — you'll know. Your chest will do the little yes. Don't argue it down. Don't cost-per-wear it into oblivion. If it fits the budget and lights you up, that's your answer.
Buy the boots.
Your Turn
Now I'm genuinely curious, and I want you to tell me: what have you bought simply because you loved it?
The impractical thing. The one you can't fully explain but would buy again in a heartbeat. Drop it in the comments — I want to hear every single one.
And if this hit something in you, save it and share it. Send it to the friend who's had the same boots sitting in her cart for three weeks, talking herself out of them. Tell all your girls. Consider this your official permission slip.
Sip. Savor. Repeat.
— Debbie
P.S. — This is Part 1 of a new series. There's more where this came from, and I've got a whole list. More at texaspourgirl.com.
Up Next in Things I Believe: Plan the Whole Trip Around Something Frivolous — why "that sounds fun" is a perfectly respectable itinerary.