My non-horsey husband had a very important moment recently: He made his own horse show debut in an “adult leadline” class. (Every schooling show should have this! It was highly entertaining.)  

After the show, I caught him texting a friend about this wild sport. (Well, he showed me the texts.) He said he loved how riding teaches our 7-year-old daughter persistence, fitness and kindness. But he didn’t like how it sometimes felt like showing was about “whose clothes were the cleanest.” 

Ahem. If he’d paid attention to my essays about grooming and braiding, he should have known I wouldn’t let that slide! Sure, I might get a little too intense when he gives our daughter cherries and guacamole to eat while she’s still in her show clothes. Sure, I don’t like how expensive quality equipment can be.

However, there are valuable lessons to be learned in the pursuit of having “the cleanest clothes,” aka, “nice turnout.” Right now, I do a lot of the turnout work for our daughter, Ava, but as she grows, she is becoming more capable of doing it herself. Here’s what she’s learning.

She’s learning about organization. Planning for horse show turnout starts long before the show itself. We’ve spent many hours at Maryland Saddlery and Dover Saddlery hunting down the best deals on clothes and tack. She helps make checklists of what to pack for a show depending on weather, which pony she’s riding, and whether I’m riding too. She packs her own horse show snacks. She schleps countless (light) loads of laundry up and down the stairs so we can dig our show clothes out of the pile. 

She’s learning to value and care for her possessions. She’s learning how a little polish can make beat-up old paddock boots beautiful again. She’s learning to change out of her one set of show clothes before the guac and cherries. And she’s learning how to treat those stains in the laundry, because she’s not getting new clothes. She’s learning that to keep tack functional, you need to clean and oil it. She’s learning that you need to carefully put things away so you can find them at o’ dark thirty on a horse show morning. 

She’s learning how to keep a horse healthy. When we bathe the horses, she helps check for lumps and bumps. When we found ticks in my horse’s mane and tail, I changed up my prevention regimen. We pay close attention to hoof health as we pick and paint. And all that planning and organization goes into horse health too; we’d be in trouble if we forgot to pack hay or water when shipping to a show. 

She’s learning about safety. Clean clothes and tack have been carefully inspected for safety. Now, our clothes and tack are definitely not “the cleanest.” Her used saddle came with a spot of white paint on it that we can’t get off. And her pants definitely have a few faint red and green stains. But in doing our best to clean, we’re keeping a close eye on any equipment that might fail, like a cracked stirrup leather, and swapping it out before a disaster. And when I insist, she wears gloves, and that’s not just for looks. They help with grip in the sweaty summer and keep the reins from ripping up her hands when a pony roots for grass.

She’s learning about cultural context and tradition. I might not love this all the time, but a big part of success in life comes from observing your surroundings and then dressing—and behaving—appropriately in that context. Many parts of hunter turnout come from the foxhunting world, where a jacket keeps you warm in the winter and garters help keep jodhpurs from riding up. We may not have good reasons for all aspects of show turnout these days (luckily our local shows are good about excusing jackets in the heat). Yet learning to “fit in” can help you stand out in the show ring—and life—for the right reasons: your actual performance. Now, I struggle with this. I want my child to be herself and be unique. But I also want her to notice what is appropriate to wear and do in a given context. If she can read and follow the culture at a horse show, she can do so at a wedding, an interview, or her first day at a new job. 

She’s learning about attention to detail. Details matter in turnout and in life. My husband might raise his eyebrows when I tuck in the string for her number, wipe specks of dust off her boot, and adjust her hair bows. No, she is not going to lose a lead line class because a bow is crooked. But all of these tiny details come together to make the big picture, just as they would when doing an experiment for a school science fair, writing a book report, or, eventually, completing a project at work. 

She’s learning about community. Our local community is wonderful at pulling together to equip our riders, young and old. When we look out for each other, our sport becomes more financially accessible, and we all benefit. Ava helps me pick through our barn’s “free pile,” which has a way of materializing boots, clothes and tack just when you need them. Recently, at a local tack store, an older kid helped Ava sort through the sale bins and figure out what might fit. And when Ava outgrows her show clothes, she looks forward to giving them to the younger kids we know. (Another reason to avoid stains!)

When I explained all of this to my poor husband (who possibly regretted showing me those texts), he had to agree. After all, he looked pretty good in the adult leadline outfit we cobbled together from his everyday clothes! So, will he stop giving our kid cherries and guac when she’s still in her show clothes? Only time will tell.  

Tracy C. Gold is a writer, freelance editor and mom living in Baltimore. An alum of U.S. Pony Clubs and the Intercollegiate Horse Shows Association, she competes in local hunter shows and rides for pleasure now. She is the author of the picture books “Trick or Treat, Bugs to Eat” from Sourcebooks and “Everyone’s Sleepy but the Baby” from Familius. You can learn more about Tracy at tracycgold.com.