As an American in The Netherlands I've come at times to identify with Americana I distanced myself from while a resident of the good ol' USA. One of my funnier recurrent fantasies is to come back from a visit to Utah with a brand spankin' new pair of genuine Tony Lama's, a pair of lip hugging Wrangler's, and a nice big hat. I could go back to curling my hair everyday, and wearing makeup, or I could get a perm. I could develop a bounce in my walk, and purchase a belt with turquoise inlay. Mind you, I'd need a good ol' fashioned wad o' cash to do so, but it might be worth the supreme feeling of disdain I would feel walking down the streets of Rotterdam, having made myself into a true outcast.
Most Dutch people like to pride themselves on being better than Americans, and their society as being better than America. They're constantly comparing themselves to America in the newspapers. I'm sure that they think of themselves as superior in every way to me, a lowly American without a drawl. Faced up as I have been with this attitude for the past nine years, it would be great to play right into it with one of the greatest American icons there is, the cowboy. It would be a fun way of saying "Fuck you," to all of the fun people I see regularly, but who keep their distance because I'm too different from them.
Of course, I've come to prefer wearing running shoes everyday for comfort, but I checked out the Tony Lama website, and they do have orthopedic boots. They might just be comfortable enough for long walks through Rotterdam flaunting my new identity.
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