I got all excited, and then they burst my bubble…with good reason.
In Need of an Anatomical Bridle
I have a friend with a horse who has a bone spur on his poll. The radiograph is disturbing; however, he can be ridden comfortably in the right tack.
She enlisted my help, and I jumped at the opportunity to create something for him. I began to draw and came up with what seemed like the perfect solution to this anatomical quandary. The design looked a lot like the Antares bridle but utilized less surface area so as to keep the pressure as localized yet well-distributed as possible.
Jumping at the Opportunity for a New Bridle
I was over the moon for this idea. I called my manufacturer and sent over the drawings. This would be possible. My heart leaped at the thought of creating something for all horses everywhere that could enhance their comfort while being ridden. I was so excited.
I had an order in the pipeline, so I got in there and changed all my bridles to a modified version of this new poll-relief design, whereby the padding would offer the poll and spine a channel of relief and more surface area for a more well-balanced crownpiece.
That Feeling You Get
I dreamt about it. I fantasized about how great this was going to be, and yet something nagged at me. I could not tell what this feeling was, but there in my gut it resided, and I knew something was wrong.
The same friend who needed the crown piece shared with me that the USEF had outlawed these poll-relief bridles for showing. I was perplexed. The design, in my mind, was absolute poetry. How could something that made the horse more comfortable, something more anatomical, be bad?
When I took the time to read the document, it made total sense. The weight of the entire bridle rests on the crown. When you divide up the padding or change how the crown sits, you induce uneven, increased pressure on both sides of the neck behind the poll. This may not be hugely impactful if you ride in a plain snaffle, but imagine how it might harm a horse if you ride in a double, or with training aids like side reins, draw reins, or a martingale. My big anatomical bridle bubble had burst.
I consulted one of my great friends who fits tack for a living. She didn’t even have a conversation with me. She just sent over the document for me to read. I understood. There was no getting around this. The poll-relief bridles, as they stand, are not in the horse’s best interest. You can read the USEF’s document here.
The Experimental Poll-Relief Bridle
Now, as for my friend in need, of course, we are moving forward with the experimental bridle for him. He is a special case, and we cannot overlook his bone spur that interferes with the crown of a normal bridle.
We need to offer him some relief.
The slightly uneven pressure will be a small price to pay for him. And bear in mind this is an experiment. We do not know if he will be rideable even with the modified bridle, but we are going to try for him.
Why Classical Bridles Outshine Some Modern Poll-Relief Bridle Trends
All of this is to say that trendy tack that is marketed well as anatomical, relieving of pressure, or ergonomic might not actually be so when it gets right down to the brass tack 😉
So, history wins when it comes to this particular argument. Classical is better than “modern” in this specific case.
If you want one of these new designs, I do advise against it. Let’s have a conversation about it. When you think about it for a brief moment, I feel like you, too, will come to the same conclusion that these bridles are not in the horse’s best interest.
In celebration of equines everywhere,
Lacey Knight
P.S. I did go back and undo the poll-relief crowns in my upcoming order. So the Rare Earth Elements Collection will feature normal, cutback, padded ergonomic crowns.
Need help with bridle fitting? Go here for an easy guide.
Dilgo Khyentse once wrote, “The stronger our devotion, the greater the blessing. But to have no devotion is like hiding oneself in a house with all the doors and shutters closed. The sunlight will never get in.”
The Difference between Devotion and Resolution
In the new year, I want to focus a little less on the resolution and more on the devotion behind the resolution. I’m not saying to be resolute is unworthy of my time, but to be devoted means there is something higher than ourselves calling us to become greater than we already are.
When I think of a resolution, I think of bettering oneself. Diets, ridding ourselves of addictions, and new gym memberships are all common targets at the beginning of a new year.
However, when I think of devotion, I think of service; I think of bettering someone else’s condition or circumstance or being so devoted to a cause that is bigger than we are that many other people benefit from our work.
Most of us who own horses have no problem with the devotion piece. You will not find more caring, adoring, and loving guardians than you will in the horse industry. That said, not all of us in the industry fit this bill.
For so many, the horse is just the means to an end: the object that jumps, races, turns barrels, or passages its way to our next blue ribbon, sash, cup, or belt buckle.
The Challenge
In this new year, I want to challenge everyone to focus on their devotion to their horses. No, I do not mean you need to purchase more pads or more cookies to achieve this. None of that is required.
Instead, listen to his or her likes and dislikes. Pay attention when you brush to where they are telling you something is off or bothering them that day.
In the tack, listen to that lameness that urges, please, not today with all the trot work.
Listen to the horse who “says,” I don’t entirely trust you…yet.
If devotion is the manner of being devoted to another, why do we so often overlook how our horse feels or what they think or want?
Dressing our horses up in all manner of beautifully color-coordinated luxury equestrian tack does not buy us a relationship with them. Believe me, I have made that mistake.
With horses, time takes time. Earning their trust takes time. And earning their devotion in return takes…you guessed it…time.
For 2025…
So, for 2025, I want to be more mindful about my own level of devotion to my horses. I am certainly not a perfect guardian, owner, or pet parent, but when I try, when I stop and focus, when I slow down and get right there in the moment with my horses, I know how to listen to what they are saying. I’ll bet you do, too.
Here’s to a fabulous and healthy New Year! 2025; here we come!
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.
