Once upon a time, when Thoroughbreds ruled the hunters and breeches were rust-colored on purpose, riding clothes were stiff, uncomfortable and unforgiving. They needed to be handled with care, dry cleaned and, worst of all……ironed.

Ironing long-sleeved cotton shirts was a dreaded horse show task—which we simplified by rationalizing that only the cuffs and collars showed, so why iron the rest?

And who can forgot the nightly crusade to remove boots without zippers? Bootjacks were hardly up to the challenge; it took at least two people to push and pull and wiggle out. Your heel ALWAYS got stuck in that painful position in the ankle of the boot, sending you hopping around on one foot screaming “get it off, GET IT OFF!”

These days, boots have zippers and riding apparel is made from “technical” materials and “performance” fabrics. The high-end progeny of black velvet helmets and heavy wool jackets barely resemble their no-frills predecessors. It’s technical material. It’s performance fabric. It’s innovative design that zips, stretches, keeps you cool and doesn’t weigh you down.

And these advances don’t come cheaply. A hunt coat can set you back $800; pair of nice tall boots more than that. Even a helmet can cost over $500.

I’m sorry, but for those kind of prices stretch, comfort and machine washability doesn’t quite do it for me. I’m afraid I am going to have to insist on REAL technology and REAL performance.

Let’s start with the helmets. Now it is absolutely worth some sort of investment to keep my brains in my skull. But there’s only so much protection one can build into the thing. Beyond that it’s all cosmetic upgrades that are not going to do anything more to keep my brains off the fencepost.

If I’m going to drop some serious coin for a helmet, it had better come equipped with gadgetry to rival anything Q ever made for James Bond. Instead of some advanced composite plastic alloy, I’d prefer a helmet made of something that is both microwaveable and dishwasher safe. I’d like a brim of sharpened, surgical grade steel so I can take the hat off, fling it, and use it as a weapon, ala James Bond’s nemesis, Oddjob.

Instead of worrying about how much impact can be absorbed, take impact completely out of the equation. Put airbags in the darned thing. And for that price, those vents in the top of the hat better be good for something more than airflow. I should be able to turn the hat upside down and, say, drain pasta or pan for gold.

While you’re at it, would it kill you to develop some inner padding material that doesn’t compress so much in two weeks that the helmet no longer fits? DO NOT sell me a $500 hat and then tell me I have to line it with maxi-pads to keep it on my head.

And lastly—need I say it? My hair had better come out of that thing perfectly coiffed. Every. Single. Time.

About that $800 hunt coat… I expect the “performance” fabric to be impervious to bullets, horse slobber and poor photography. As for technology, build electronics into the fabric that will digitally display my number and continually shift it to a position readily viewable by the judge.

In the event of a canter departure on the wrong lead, superintelligent fibers should blur my number immediately. Focus can be restored when the correct lead has been detected. That’s what I call fiber optics.

Make the coat a wearable multi-tool that can origami itself in to whatever you need. The lining and pockets should house necessary horse show gadgetry like a hoofpick, seam ripper and corkscrew. It wouldn’t hurt to have a couple of USB ports in there as well. In the likely event of a water-obstacle landing, the coat should act as an effective floatation device. To assist in times of truly catastrophic riding error, I’ll want it to conceal an emergency parachute—one that’s just big enough to reduce impact (in case my helmet air bag system doesn’t deploy) and double as a body bag.

Replace fancy details with useful extras. Instead of piping the lapels with silk, use Red Vines. We amateurs could use some sugar-rush courage before we head for the single oxer that looks the size of Mt. Vesuvius.

Lastly, this “technical fabric” you tout should reflect light in such a way that the hue complements whatever color horse I’m on. This will help me save face when, despite all the technological marvels, the buttons still fall off.

All I require of my riding shirt is that it never need ironing and be opaque enough to disguise the fact that I dressed in the dark and grabbed the leopard print sports bra. But could you make the shirt smart enough put itself into the washing machine at night? I’m not gonna think of that until the next morning when I find it laying where I tossed it after I undressed (also in the dark) the night before.

Those $300 “performance” breeches better be able to haul my sorry backside out of bed at 5 a.m. and get me to the showgrounds in time for the flat equitation class I entered in a caffiene-induced display of poor judgment.

I’d also like it if they were NOT that fleshtone-tan color that makes it look as though I am not wearing pants. Furthermore, regardless of how many tacos I have, the fabric should neatly and comfortably contain my waistline and backside at all times. Come on, pants. Perform.

There are some fine off-the shelf tall boots at reasonable prices. However, my only choice for footwear is the $1,000 fully-custom model. Mother nature blessed me with legs that won’t fit in to any off-the-shelf footwear. Boot sales people still tell stories about the redhead with the imhumanly narrow foot, ankles the size of empty toilet tissue rolls and impossibly slim calves. I am an urban legend in the footwear industry.

Those boots-that-cost-more-than-a-house-payment had better keep my foot exactly where it needs to be and apply the correct amount of leg aid for any given situation. They should generate the perfect 3’ step that allows me to walk every line with precision accuracy. I want to be able to run to the porta potty between rounds faster than The Six Million Dollar Man.

Boots are kinda shaped like boomerangs, so how about making it so that when I toss it out, it will come back with a beer? Add a homing beacon, so that if I get dumped out on the trail, rescuers will find me. Embed it in the heel, since that will be the only part of me sticking out of the ravine.

Self-cleaning and polishing abilities go without saying; perhaps with auto-vibrate to shake the dust off after I mount. The boots had better be comfortable, too, since they will be the only pair of shoes I can afford for five years.

Throw in the other necessities like gloves, socks and a belt, and a high-end competition ensemble can come in close to $3,000. The only thing I’m likely to wear that costs that much is a casket.

Until then I’ll have to settle for the not-so-technical, lower-functioning, more affordable cousins of these high-powered garments. I won’t be able to blame my pants for my equitation or my coat for missed distances. My performance and technique in the show ring will be totally up to me.

After years of trying to fit in with corporate America, Jody Lynne Werner decided to pursue her true passion as a career rather than a hobby. So now, she’s an artist, graphic designer, illustrator, cartoonist, web designer, writer and humorist. You can find her work on her Misfit Designs Cafepress site. Jody is one of the winners of the Chronicle’s first writing competition. Her work also appears in the Dec. 2, 2013, Amateur Issue print edition of The Chronicle of the Horse.