If roper boots aren’t rodeo-ready enough for you, head here instead.
Ever since I was a kid, Toby Keith’s “I Should Have Been a Cowboy” has played on repeat in my head. Nowadays, though, you’d be hard-pressed to ID my cowboy proclivities: my hands are soft, I can type 100 words per minute, and I spend most of the day staring at a computer screen. I wouldn’t know a Colt .45 from a BB gun (nor should I, really), but that hasn’t stopped me from dressing the part.
For as long as I’ve been chasing a rodeo high, I’ve kept a pair of cowboy boots tucked away in the corner of my closet, ready to be called into action. That time is now. Cowboycore is ascendant, and guys from Joshua Tree to Jackson Hole are pulling on bootcut jeans, snap-front shirts, and dusty suede trucker jackets. Here’s the only problem: cowboy boots ain’t that comfortable. They definitely look good—just ask the Butch Cassidy print hanging on my wall—but for true-blue city slickers, they’re not that practical. Or so I thought, until I stumbled across Allen Edmonds’ roper boots, an easier-to-wear, only-slightly-less-auspicious cousin of their high-heeled counterparts.
I know what you’re thinking: yes, that Allen Edmonds, the very same brand that hawks $800 wingtips to the suit-and-tie holdouts. When the brand’s Dallas Roper caught my eye a few months back I was pleasantly surprised, too—and then proceeded to buy ’em immediately. I’d been looking for a similar silhouette for years, but most of them were either too Boot Barn-chic or astronomically expensive. The Dallas, however, sticks the landing like a pro.
The toe box is a Goldilocks combination of pointy and rounded, just narrow enough to leave no doubt of its western roots, but wide enough for all-day wear. The 10.5-inch shaft is high enough to pay homage to the source material, but the supple leather is floppy and unstructured, so it doesn’t bulge through through your pants legs. In aggregate, it’s one of the most versatile boots I’ve ever owned, full stop.
They were tight on my feet at first, but after a few months of hard wear, I can confirm they just needed to be broken in. I’ve rocked them with jeans, my trusty Dickies 874s, and work pants that do little to help the stolen valor allegations.
I still have a few pairs of real-deal cowboy stompers in my closet, heels stacked high and proud. But ever since I bought Allen Edmonds’ roper boots, the others haven’t found their way back into my rotation. If you see me out and about this spring, chances are I’ll be wearing these, wishing to hell I was in the saddle instead of sheepishly asking a barista for the Wi-Fi password.
