Hermès started in 1837 as a saddle maker. Actual saddles, for actual horses. Last year it did €16 billion in revenue, and the biggest chunk of that, 44 percent, sits in a line the company still calls "Leather Goods and Saddlery." The saddles are technically still in there, somewhere, underneath the Birkins and the Kellys that are actually driving the number. That is the whole story of the moment horses are having, in one house: the saddle is the origin myth, and the handbag is the business.

And right now the myth is selling harder than ever, because 2026 is the Year of the Horse, and every luxury house on earth has spent the past six months mining the animal for everything it's worth. Ralph Lauren put on a 5,000-drone show over Shenzhen. Loro Piana, which has had its name on Rome's most prestigious show-jumping event for more than thirty years, dropped a Year of the Horse edition of its equestrian jacket. Hermès filled the Grand Palais in March for three days of elite show jumping and a €400,000 grand prix, an entire sporting spectacle in service of a heritage that starts with a piece of tack.

It's not just the old houses, either. Siegelman Stable, a streetwear brand built on nothing but a racing family's name and a logo of a horse pulling a sulky, is on the heads of Travis Kelce and Kendall Jenner. Alix Earle, who can move an audience of millions by pointing her phone at something, spent a day at the Wellington showgrounds because her little sister shows there, and captioned it "horse town." The horse, as an aesthetic, has never been more bankable.

Here's who isn't cashing in: horse people. Not just the breeders and trainers and vets who produce the animals, though they're struggling too. The amateur paying board on one horse. The junior whose family is stretching to keep her showing. The working professional at the AA level. Everyone who actually rides, shows, owns, or works in this sport is absorbing the cost of a sport that isn't growing in the US the way it has to in order to survive, while the people selling the vibe have never done better.

This isn't just a vibe, either. In the past six months Churchill Downs bought the Preakness, the FEI sold its broadcast rights to Chinese state media, and the most ambitious Western lifestyle empire in the country quietly sold itself for parts. The money is moving into the brand and rights layer of this industry, the part you can package, broadcast, and wear. What it is moving out of is everything underneath: the cost of actually participating keeps climbing, the people who ride and breed and care for horses are aging out or getting priced out, and the next generation isn't arriving fast enough to replace them. The image of the sport has never been healthier. The economics of being in it have rarely been harder. That gap is the whole story, and in the US it is widening in every discipline at once, whether you follow racing, Western performance, English sport, or polo.

"The image of the sport has never been healthier. The economics of being in it have rarely been harder."

What this series will cover

Six deep dives follow. Each takes one corner of the industry and asks the same question: who is actually capturing the value, and who is paying for it.

The cultural moment for horses is real, and it is global. The strain underneath it is just as real, and in the US it is structural. Both things are true at the same time, and the relationship between them, the vibe rising while the fundamentals erode, is the most important question in the industry right now.

Orchid Bertelsen is an equestrian industry analyst and consumer marketing strategist with 20 years of experience in e-commerce and brand strategy. She rides at Grosse Pointe Equestrian in Michigan.