How the Cowboy Look Took Over Colombia
- Laura Rocha
- 21 minutes ago
- 4 min read
Through chaps, fringe, and a great pair of Texan boots.
Cocodrilo Botas Texanas is a Western-style boot boutique in El Restrepo, a neighborhood in the south of the Colombian capital, Bogotá. Up a narrow staircase surrounded by intricate cowboy-themed decor — belt buckles, hats, old pistols — Texan-style boots line up the walls top to bottom, in rooms carpeted with cowhide rugs, separated by men’s and women’s sections. For anyone looking for high-quality, intricate cowboy boots that won’t break the bank, Cocodrilo is like a diamond in the rough. You can find any color, height, and shape. And if you see a design that you like but would prefer a shorter boot or lower heel, just ask: they can customize it for you. How do I know all of this? I have three pairs.
I discovered Cocodrilo thanks to my very stylish uncle, who possesses a flair for the dramatic. And in an aggressively urban city, where cowboy dreams seem so far away, it’s rather surprising to find a place so deeply-seated in this foreign aesthetic.
The telenovela Pasión de Gavilanes (2003-2004) captured the hearts of viewers in Colombia, and, during the first decade of private broadcasting in the Latin American country, it achieved the highest ratings on Telemundo. People all over the world, from Venezuela to Bolivia, all the way to Bulgaria and China, tuned in to watch the Reyes brothers avenge the death of their little sister, Libia (Ana Lucía Domínguez), after a tormentous affair with Don Bernardo Elizondo (Germán Rojas) ends in her murder.
While Pasión de Gavilanes was filmed in El Pórtico, a hacienda in Colombia that is now an iconic restaurant, the production design and wardrobe create a parallel world where Colombian and Mexican culture blend into a cowboy fever dream. In episode one, the magnetic Rosario Montes performed “Fiera Inquieta” at the town bar and changed Latin American night culture forever. It’s one of those ubiquitous songs that transcended the screen: everyone knows the lyrics, whether you’ve seen the telenovela or not. Angela Chadid, who sings “Fiera Inquieta,” became one of the most popular voices in Colombian radio, even if she was not the most popular face: actress Zharick León portrayed Rosario Montes and lip-synced to Angela’s voice.
The wardrobe of Pasión de Gavilanes is an essential part of the show. Juan Reyes and his brothers, Óscar and Franco, wear cowboy hats and boots, while the mythic Rosario Montes performs on the bar in halter bras, side-studded rodeo pants, and coin-encrusted, belly dance-style hip scarves. Costume designer Manuel Guerrero brought the characters to life by giving each one a distinct look while remaining within the boundaries of westernwear.
The show was produced to appeal to a broad range of Latin American and telenovela-loving audiences, created for the United States’ Telemundo and Colombia’s Caracol Televisión. The success of “Fiera Inquieta” and the idealization of the wealthy Elizondo family’s ranch is built within the common foundation that Latin American cultures share, while solidifying an aesthetic that feels authentic to the show’s universe. A large cast with stars from all over the continent contributes to the illusion. The show was so successful that, in 2022, almost two decades after the initial release, it was brought back for a second season of 71 episodes.
But even before “Fiera Inquieta” stole the 4 AM drunk scream-singing spot in Colombians’ party routine, Pedro el Escamoso broke new ground for cowboy boots. This 2001-2003 Caracol Televisión telenovela follows disgraced Pedro, who leaves his small town to escape a “skirts scandal,” and arrives in Bogotá with no money, and more importantly, no style. He is known for his funky, atypical dancing, which he can do thanks to his dancing boots, a pair of well-loved, brown, Texan-style ones. Unlike in Pasión de Gavilanes, Pedro’s boots are part of what makes him an outcast. His story is one of an outsider who manages to win the hearts of a family — and of the country.
While in the early 2000s, cowboy boots in Colombia were mainly confined to telenovelas (and telenovela-inspired Halloween costumes), in 2018, shoe designer Patricia Mejía collaborated with gallerist and fashionista Gloria Saldarriaga to launch a wildly popular line of cowboy boots, which were featured in Vogue Mexico and coveted by trend-chasers and collectors. But westernwear didn’t always have positive or fashion-forward associations in Colombian culture.
In the ‘90s, westernwear in Colombia was mainly associated with narco-esthetics: the ostentatious display of wealth that became common as drug lords made millions and became part of the ruling class. Owning land and having horses were part of that aesthetic, and so participating in that culture was, in some sentiments, seen as trashy. Due to the proliferation of pop culture, a big portion of what was frowned upon then has now been absorbed as mainstream, or, at least, as a modish fashion statement.
A decade ago, I wouldn’t have gleefully strutted down to Cocodrilo and given them my hard-earned money for a pair of Texan boots; I also wouldn’t have appreciated the high-quality craftsmanship for such an unbelievable price. Many things had to fall into place to get me to the land of three-pair ownership, including a growing appreciation for my uncle’s collection, the freedom of wearing what I want that comes from living in New York, and an urge to embrace my dramatic tendencies. Wearing my Colombian boots in New York is similar to when I pick one of my Wayuu mochilas as my bag for the day: I’m carrying craftsmanship with me, choosing items made with patience and care and bought from artisans who strive daily to keep traditions alive. I feel fashionable, strutting the streets alongside women in Tecovas, and I feel at home. 🌀
Laura Rocha-Rueda is a Colombian fashion and fiction writer based in Brooklyn. Her work has appeared in HALOSCOPE, Vestoj, The Inquisitive Eater, and The Territorie. She covers runway, trends, and pop culture, and will gladly chat about why dismissing these themes as frivolous is misguided and sad. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from The New School.