Erin McCabe loves her Irideon breeches, so much so that she’s almost worn the backside of them out. Instead of buying a new pair, however, she had this bright, money-saving idea: adorable iron-on patches.
Having a kid and horses means many things. This week it means that I have fewer discretionary funds to devote to things like replacing my Irideon full-seat breeches. It also means that I spent several hours recently patching holes that my kid has torn in his pants because he scoots everywhere on his bum.
While I cut and ironed the patches, I entertained myself by pretending I was creating baby full-seat breeches. That was more amusing than wondering if I was just being cheap by not buying my kid new pants. It also got me thinking about how lately (as in, the last year) when I wear my favorite breeches, I am worried that other people will notice the worn spots in the full seat. I’m pretty sure the only reason no one has told me they can see my underwear is because they are just trying to figure out how to politely admit they’ve been staring at my backside. And this makes me very sad (see also: fewer discretionary funds).
See, while I have a teensy little love affair with my Irideon full-seats (because they are stretchy and comfy and grippy and come in brown and blue and not just black or white or tan and they are ribby, not in a bad way like my 20 year old OTTB, but in a good way, like corduroy. I like wearing them. The problem is I just don’t like buying them.
However, as I was cutting hearts and stars into the iron-on patches I bought to mend my kid’s pants, I had a brilliant idea (because truly, motherhood is the necessity of invention). Why not do the same for my full-seats? It will be just like when people clip their ponies and leave a heart or star or martini glass! It will be just like in the 90s when people used calico prints to patch the holes in their jeans because it looked artsy and cool! No one has to know those cute little hearts on my butt are covering holes. Maybe people will think I am just starting a new equestrian fashion trend!
Just to prove the fashion worthy-ness, here’s my attempt at a Dover Saddlery catalog photo shoot. OK, maybe I should have pulled Clue’s mane first. And cleaned my tack. And worn a cooler shirt. But whatever.
This fabulousness cost me $8.03 at my local Joann Fabrics store for a package of twenty iron-on patches in twill, corduroy and denim (the color selection is, sadly, a bit bland—dark and light blue, tan, black, green, brown, red). They do not seem to be available on Joann’s website but you can get them here for only $5.19. By contrast, new Irideons cost $119.
I confess the longevity of these patches has yet to be fully tested but after a couple rides and a washing, they seem to be holding up well. My kid did scoot off one of his small patches, however the surface of saddles is much smoother than that of gravel and asphalt driveways. Those who are more crafty or devoted to the cause or fashion conscious might find it advantageous to bust out the old sewing machine and do some zigzagging around the edges, which may also fray a little (in a cool punk-rock way) with washing. I can totally imagine having fun with some contrasting stitching. But that sort of defeats the point of iron-on, right? Besides, all that cutting and ironing kind of used up my domestic-Goddess quotient for the month and I still have my blue Irideons to patch. At least when I pulled them out to take a look at the damage, I discovered their worn spots are on the left side. Phew! I was just starting to feel anxious about why my right seat bone is the only one creating holes in my brown breeches. Thank God the problem isn’t me (for once)!