I’ve always been extremely curious about artists who take a medium and make it their own. They creatively utilize things at hand to fashion unique artistic expressions the world has never seen before.
Browbands and horse tack with rhinestones is nothing novel. In fact, in my early adult years, I was unable to afford so many of the brands I lusted after, like Browbands By Design. They had the most exquisite and charming designs, ones that really exalted the look of the horse.
When I had the opportunity to design my own creations, I wanted them to be reflective of and inspired by the things that influence me personally—My own personal expression of my life experience, passions, loves, and things I find intriguing and beautiful.
When it comes to bespoke equestrian gear, it’s nothing if it’s not about the fit.
Most of the people I meet have a browband that’s too small.
It lays across the forehead, but it’s tight and pulls the crown of the bridle forward toward the ears. When it comes to browbands, extra space is key.
What if it sticks out from your horse’s forehead?
Two things: You want it to stick out slightly.
More than an inch or so might be too big, but you want your browband to be on the roomy side.
Second, if your handmade crystal browband sticks out a little, all the better for placing his forelock under it so everyone can then see the crystals glistening and gleaming in the light.
Here’s the deal when it comes to finding the perfect fit:
Envisioned Equestrian handmade horse browbands are generally crafted on the 1/2 inch.
We prefer to go up in size to help people get a good fit.
If your cob is currently wearing a 15 and you think it’s great, we suggest ordering a 15.5 or even a 16.
For example: We recently fit a horse who was wearing a cob-sized browband and the owner felt it was good.
This was a Quarter Horse, so they were not terribly big.
By the time I left, they were comfortably fit in a 17″, which looked great and gave them TONS of room to get that bridle sitting well behind the ears.
This QH wound up with a WB size, but that’s just how it goes sometimes.
Our personal rule of thumb: always go up in size if you’re comfortable doing so. You’ll be surprised at how happy your horse will be with a little extra “headroom.”
Ever since I was about eight, I have been horse crazy. Before that, it was alligators and the duck-billed platypus.
Don’t ask me why.
Because my affinity had grown so strong, and there was a consistent lack of familial funds to pay for lessons, I decided to “volunteer” at the local barn.
Make no mistake—this is child labor at its finest, but nothing, especially OSHA and the law, could stop me.
My First Gig
I remember the barn owner and trainer, Mary, showing me to the school horse tack room.
In the center of the cherry wood-paneled room with dirty green carpet stood a heap of tack and bridle parts about three feet high.
“Get to work putting those bridles back together now that they’re clean.” She knew this was an insurmountable hill for me to climb, and I would likely fail.
I felt like there had been a miscommunication somewhere along the way, but I wasn’t about to let my lack of know-how thwart my first barn job.
Then, like a shining beacon of hope, high up on the wall, I spotted a single Collegiate Hunter bridle fully assembled.
I used that as my template, and I got to work.
Not only was this tack confusing and hard to work with, but it was all mixed together. I had to sort bridles while I was assembling them.
Triumph!
Sure, the odd figure 8 or standing martingale took me by surprise, but I finished that whole pile in about two hours.
She was stunned and taken aback to see my progress upon her return.
I looked at her hopefully, wishing to God and everything holy that she would utter those few sacred words to me, “Now, do you want to ride?” But alas, no such exchange took place. Instead, I got a pat on the shoulder and a “Nice job.”
I would frequent that barn for years, hanging over rails and watching everything the horses were doing and everything the people were doing with them.
Even after a short absence, I returned there as a young adult with my own horse and relished the memories that the old tack room still held.
If You Need a Hand
Since that day, I have happily assembled bridles, knowing wholeheartedly that they are where I got my start in horses.
That’s also probably why I try to offer folks the snaps on the browbands: I know what a pain it is to change a browband constantly.
But still, if you ever need someone to switch out your bit, I’m happy to do it for you and offer you service with a smile.
What I don’t want is for people to see my brand and think that they have to show in order to indulge. No, Sir. No, Ma’am.
One of the finest riders I have ever known hardly ever sets foot in the show ring. She is a Colt-starting cowgirl who does squat with her spurs on because she’s just that tough. She dabbled in dressage (and admittedly showed a few client horses in lower-level tests), but show rings were not her thing.
So, if she’s rarely in the ring, does she still fall into the Envisioned Equestrian fold? Of course, she does. She deserves to be celebrated, and so do her horses.
My momma always used to say…
My mom always used to tell me that if you look your best, you ride your best. She put that theory to the test for decades. I believe it’s true.
What I know is that when my tack is a creative expression of what’s inside me on any given day, that’s when I am the happiest.
When my heart is overflowing with love and amusement for my horse’s antics, I want something bright and vibrant to outwardly express my inner experience, and that’s what this is all about.
Judgy Judgy
I do not frequent the show ring. Why? Because I used to for many, many years.
I personally don’t find any joy in putting myself up on display, insisting that my horse deals with my unusual show jitters.
Dressage is one of those sports where you can judge yourself. Was your extended trot downhill and lacking elevation? Did the hind foot stick in the pirouette? Was that circle actually circular? Was your bend consistent in half pass, or did the hind end fall out? These are all things we can judge ourselves if we pay attention to the feel.
Please don’t think that I mean to say one should never show or never submit oneself for professional judging, but I am usually far more critical of myself than anyone else ever is, so I imagine that’s enough judgment.
Maybe that’s why I started Envisioned Equestrian.
I want people to feel great, look great, ride great, and enjoy the dickens out of their time with their horse however they prefer to go about doing that.
Elegance for All
So, if you’re a backyard horse person who rides bareback most days, Envisioned Equestrian is for you.
If you’re the FEI rider who is a true athlete and wants the best and brightest for your equine partner, Envisioned Equestrian is for you.
And if you’re somewhere in the middle, coming to the barn after work or school, taking as much time in the saddle as you can, and then enjoying the company of your barn companions before heading home way too late, Envisioned Equestrian is for you, too.
We should stand united as horse lovers no matter our station or discipline, and that is my goal: to bring affordable beauty to the world of horses that I so dearly love.
I couldn’t put my heart out there again like that for it to be crushed into oblivion by the loss of one more soul horse.
Don’t get me wrong; I have never been a casual horse enthusiast; I grew up a true barn rat, refusing to come home when it was time and being there at the crack of dawn just to see the dust dance and plume in the morning sunlight.
The nickers during the morning feed would set my spirit right for the day. My intention: anything and everything to do with horses.
My neighbor recently said, “It’s funny you are still into horses. Usually, girls outgrow them.”
He’s an engineer, so I forgave him. I jest, but there is some truth there.
How could anyone believe that I would ever outgrow or give up on my life’s passion? I certainly would have bet money on the fact that I never would…until I lost her.
The Love of My Life
She was only six years old, and a colic took her faster than I could imagine.
I had acquired her as a four-year-old, and we shared two blissful years in each other’s company. She was my everything—the perfect horse for me.
About a year after her death, I decided I was through. Now, keep in mind I made this decision while I had a stable of four.
I imagined I would just care for them until their days were over, and they would have a great life here in their herd.
But I would never…EVER…give my heart away to another horse like that. I simply could not, and I wasn’t even sad about it.
I was confused by it, certainly, but sad I was not. It just seemed like my new reality.
Little did I know that they would come roaring back into my heart due to an OTTB who needed a helping hand.
Finding a Way Forward
His mom had a terrible accident with him, and he had been brought to a trainer for work in hopes that he might one day be safe enough for her to ride.
That would never be the case.
I was brought in because his owner did not know where to go or what to do with him. She just knew she couldn’t, and I fully understand that place.
She wanted the best for him, a path forward, and I wanted to help her find that path.
The first impression I had of him was that he was absolutely terrified of people (not as a result of anything his owner had done).
He snorted at me when I placed his halter on, unsure of who I was and what I wanted.
Was this going to be a bad interaction? His whole body seemed to say, as he failed to relax even a little on our walk to the round pen.
Coming Home to Myself
During our first three sessions, I knew he was figuring out who I was and what I was about.
I kept telling him, “It’s okay to relax with me.”
By the fourth time, he started to believe it might be true.
Before I knew it, we were running and playing at liberty together, him initiating contact, giving me kisses, and nuzzling into the crook of my arm as he buried his nose in my shirt.
I felt love again…for a horse.
Now, I probably could have brought this horse home, and I did think about it, but he has a destiny elsewhere, and I know that. I still see him on the regular, love on him, and spend time sharing essential oils and treats with him, but our paths are diverging.
New Understanding
I am grateful to recognize what he did for me because I was never coming back into the barn. But his path crossed with mine, and I understood that I could love ALL horses the way I loved HER.
The love was not just hers; it was within me all along, and while I still shed tears when I think or say, “My baby,” I know that this is not the end…clearly.
I want to offer gratitude to my biggest buddy ever, the OTTB rescue, who rescued me right back.
