A Horse of a Different Color (A Gold Color, to Be Exact).

Last weekend, your Lemieux grandparents came to Chicago to visit us, children. And how did we thank them for the lovely visit? We showed them Chicago's famous tiny gold horses. Luckily, they're stored in the second-floor lobby of the hotel in which your grandparents were staying, so it was convenient.

As is custom, your grandmother listened to the horse's nostrils to hear whether he would breathe a valuable and much-coveted equestrian "AuGury*" into her ear.

Your father, in complete defiance of customs, tried to climb on the horse to ride it. To where, John?! Unless you're trying to get to the second-floor lobby of the Chicago Hilton, it's not really a great mode of transportation.

*That was a chemistry pun, for those of you who like that sort of thing.

What Not to Wear (Horse Enthusaist Edition).

Well, it's happened again: the horse enthusiasm industry has continued promote equine-human sexuality in its tireless campaign to sell expensive farm equipment to teenage girls. Today's ad is particularly nefarious because it makes little effort to pretend it appeals to anything but the romantic feelings young women (appallingly) have for their horses.

Notice how this young woman stares lustfully into the middle distance while she fondles her unsuspecting horse.

To give you an idea of what normal horse-riding attire consists of (because I know no child of mine will ever have any recreational or romantic interest in horses), here is a photo of a woman actually riding a horse. Helmet, long pants, boots, jacket. Possibly chaps. And now notice the floozy in the picture above. Her midriff is bare, for crying out loud! What would happen if the horse cantered through his own droppings and they splattered? Her stomach would have horse droppings on it, that's what.

Cruel Denim company (the advertiser responsible for this smut), you make me sick.

Unacceptable Sexual Preferences.

Children, I have decided to start a new feature on this blog. It will involve my deconstructing an advertisement aimed at horse enthusiasts in order to highlight the dangerous message of sexuality with horses that the equine industry is so bent on communicating to young women.

This ad appeared in the March 2012 issues of Horse & Rider, and was one of those gimmicky ads that required the reader to fold one page over to get the full picture. Well, guess what. I bought into it and folded the page--and I have to say I was sorry I did.

Notice the expression on the woman's face, of extreme pleasure and intimacy. Notice, too, that the horse does not have an expression on his face, because he is a horse and is not capable of having sexual feelings for human women.

But even if the images in this ad left room for doubt about its message ("oh, maybe they're just good friends who wash each other in soft focus"), the text does not. At the top of the ad, we see "Bringing you closer to your horse," and "It's your time together." The magazine reader is encouraged to fold the page over with the words "Fold back this side of the page to complete the connection." Really, Vetrolin? You don't think that's a little obvious?


Apparently not. Because the block of text below the horse's (completely indifferent) head reads as follows: "Whether it is a soothing bath or an invigorating liniment rubdown, its distinctive menthol fragrance enriches the relationship with your horse."

Listen. I'm not saying that being a horse enthusiast is wrong. All I'm saying is that horse enthusiasts should stop pretending that they're just friends with their horses, and confess that they are passionately, sexually attracted to these creatures. And when they're ready to admit their true feelings, I hope that they are sure to use protection (I'm not talking about helmets).