CAPTURE THE BRAG

The story goes that Mississippi Gov. Ross Barnett gave Texas Gov. Price Daniel the biggest Texas flag in the world as a token of southern hospitality during the 1962 Cotton Bowl—a grand gesture considering the Longhorns held on to beat Ole Miss 12-7. 

First given to the Longhorn Band, it was subsequently surrendered to the men’s athletic department. The following football season, the Alpha Phi Omega co-ed fraternity was asked to “run the flag” at the 1962 Thanksgiving game against Texas A&M. Since then, APO has displayed the flag at halftime at home games and the Red River Shootout, pregame “flag runs,” and pep rallies. In 1977, APO even brought it out during halftime at Kyle Field, instigating a brawl. 

The flag that covers Oklahoma’s end zone in Dallas is far from the original flag Burnett gifted in the ’60s. APO has owned eight Texas flags that have grown, like a tall tale, successively more outlandish until reaching its current 100-by-150-foot dimensions. Stored at Darrell K Royal Texas Memorial Stadium, the biggest Texas flag in the world weighs 450 pounds, far more than Justin Blalock, who, at 330 pounds, was one of the heaviest UT football players of all time. Blalock was an All-American lineman on the 2005 team who played in the Rose Bowl. APO showed off the flag at halftime there, too. (UT won, 41-38.) 

BALL GAME

BY CAT CARDENAS

It might be hard to imagine now, but it wasn’t that long ago that a quinceañera was a small, intimate affair—a simple family gathering meant to commemorate a young Latina’s transition into womanhood when she turned 15. Though the tradition dates to pre-Columbian times and is celebrated in various ways across Latin America, the modern-day quince in the U.S. first rose to popularity along the Texas-Mexico borderlands in the 1930s and ’40s. 

Many quinceañeras have become something closer to a wedding—an over-the-top affair that often includes a theme, hundreds of guests, a court of honor, professional dancers, party buses, photo booths, balloon arches, and live performers—altogether averaging around $20,000, according to a 2019 study by Quinceañera Report. Everything about the event has ballooned in size and cost, including one of the night’s most important elements: the dress. 

In the 1940s and ’50s, these dresses were typically pink or white. And while their upper-class counterparts in Latin America opted for more elaborate gowns in the style of Spanish debutantes, Mexican-Americans wore simple, modest designs with minimal accoutrements. Over the following decades, the dresses, like the quinceañera itself, evolved and blended with American culture, reflected in the pastels and puffed sleeves of the ’80s and ’90s. 

20-25 YARDS

Amount of fabric necessary for a large skirt

6-8 MONTHS

Amount of time it can take to create a custom dress

More recently, the trend has swung back in the other direction. No longer influenced by prom dresses or evening gowns, quince dresses are something all their own—bigger, bolder, louder exclamations of a young girl’s Hispanic heritage. Today’s dress designers create ball gowns with voluminous crinoline petticoats, glittery tulle skirts, bedazzled bodices, and matching tiaras. 

“There’s so much variety now,” says Annette Morales of Ana’s Pro Gowns in Lewisville, about 30 miles north of Dallas. “The simple versions still exist, but in general, the girls who come in are looking for long trains, big skirts, and corset bodices.” Their store carries major designers but also offers fully custom designs. Along with the dresses come packages that include all the necessary accessories: crowns, guest books, Bibles, bouquets, and matching dolls or bears for the traditional gift of the “last doll.” “When girls come in looking for a dress, they want something that feels personal,” Morales says. “The parties have turned into little weddings, so every detail counts.” anasquinceaneragowns.com

CROWN JEWEL

The iconic wide brim and tall crown of the 10-gallon hat can be found everywhere from cattle ranches to dance halls to the neon brown-and-yellow Arby’s sign. Although it’s long been associated with Texas, the hat was created by John B. Stetson in Colorado in 1849. Some say its moniker came from the fact that cowboys would fill their hat with water from creeks to hydrate their horses, but it’s more likely a mispronunciation of the Spanish word “galón,” referring to the braided bands on sombreros worn by vaqueros. It could also come from the phrase “tan galán,” aka “very handsome.”  

FOR THE GRAM

AT THE SAN ANTONIO ZOO, even the smallest of animals can make a splash on social media. Virtual zoo visitors can’t seem to get enough of the critters’ slithering, scampering, and sleeping: The charismatic creatures have racked up 9 billion online impressions and helped the zoo amass 6.2 million followers—only 5% of whom live in the greater San Antonio region. The internet sensations can thank Jacob Downing, the zoo’s social media coordinator, for their superstardom. He has a knack for using his camera to capture special moments with a wide spectrum of species; the critters are in turn ambassadors for their brethren in the wild that may face extinction or other conservation concerns. “We have fans from India, all over Europe, Australia,” Downing says. “At the end of the day, it’s cute animals on the internet. Who doesn’t love that?” 

Here are just a few of the zoo’s four-legged luminaries. 

TIMOTHY: This 10-year-old hippo enjoys cracking watermelons and pumpkins with his powerful jaws almost as much as he loves naps. He shares his enclosure with his best friend, Kevin, a wild duck who is more than happy to clean up any food scraps the hippo leaves behind. 

WILSON: You can frequently find this three-banded armadillo on his exercise wheel, where he burns off excess calories from hoovering up heaps of mealworms. The “tactical assault possum,” as one Reddit user referred to Wilson, is so adorable that a video of him sleeping has garnered hundreds of millions of views. 

BRUNO: Unlike the infamous Encanto character, San Antonio zoo-goers talk a lot about Bruno. But this one is a 450-pound Aldabra tortoise that crunches cacti and seeks out head-pats like a puppy. His mate Edie, who is estimated to be close to 150 years old, is too old to produce viable eggs. But the recently acquired Agnes, 8, may have more success in yielding a clutch of baby Brunos someday.

Dozens of apple pies draped with flaky handmade crusts, lemon versions crowned with swirled whipped topping, and cocoa-dusted chocolate pies are stacked on steel racks behind the refrigerated case at Blue Bonnet Cafe in Marble Falls. Rows of others—fudge, peanut butter cream, and coconut meringue—sit on white stoneware plates, just waiting to dazzle their many fans. These impressive pastries won’t have to wait long because, like clockwork, they’ll be wiped out before the almost-century-old café closes its glass doors at 8 p.m. 

Co-owner Lindsay Plante proudly boasts of her family’s legacy with a sign outside that says: “Pie Until I Die.” In the last year alone, her café’s six dedicated bakers produced an astonishing 58,000 to keep up with demand. Each has acolytes, but the bestselling coconut, chocolate, and banana cream pies have developed a cult following that requires cracking hundreds of thousands of eggs. Even though many of those eggs inevitably make their way into omelets and other breakfast offerings, Plante estimates Blue Bonnet uses around 168,000 each year for pie-making alone. 

And it’s not just the sales volume that elicits eye-popping reactions. Blue Bonnet also aims high with the pies themselves. Though the bakers keep the diameters standard, they build the meringues to mountainous points, with each snowy peak reaching 6 inches. These architectural masterpieces require a practiced hand, particularly in the vexing Central Texas humidity. To start, the veteran staff utilizes a proprietary meringue powder to ensure a weep-less pie that can stand up to a scorching Marble Falls summer. Then, before baking, they pile on generous scoops of the fluff, sculpting it into tall domes. 

“They’ve been doing it for so long that they are lightning fast,” Plante says of her spatula-wielding team. “They almost make it look easy.”

Keeping up with the demand requires a breakneck pace, despite a priority list that also includes scratch-made biscuits, cinnamon rolls, doughnuts, and cornbread. Luckily, Plante counts on bakers who have been around since her parents ran the operation starting in 1981. John and Belinda Kemper passed down those recipes to their daughter and her loyal team, so decades-long regulars never saw a drop in quality. And that kind of consistency and longevity is even more remarkable than a banana cream pie with Everest-like summits. 

STEAK HOLDER

Looking for a way to blow off steam after a grueling day, Amarillo cowhands in the 1960s gathered at the Big Texan Steak Ranch for beef-consuming showdowns. Ever vigilant, founder R.J. Lee watched these exhibitions of insatiable appetites and saw an opportunity as enormous as the restaurant’s 60-foot neon cowboy sign.

“When Big Texan first opened, grandpa noticed a bunch of ranchers coming in after working in the field who would compete to see who could eat the most 1-pound steaks in an hour,” says third-generation owner Jordan Lee. 

Eight months after opening its doors, the steakhouse hosted its first 72-ounce steak challenge. Lee’s rules were simple: Customers had 60 minutes to devour a slab of beef—accompanied by a baked potato, a salad, shrimp cocktail, and a buttered roll—or pay the $9.72 price tag. 

Soon, word spread among travelers on Route 66 looking for a novel dining experience. By the time the restaurant moved to the outskirts of Amarillo in 1971, the challenge was part of Texas lore. The gut-busting feast now costs $72, but the Lee family hasn’t tinkered much with the winning formula in 65 years. 

Since a 2008 episode of Man vs. Food, the restaurant has been an essential stop on the competitive eating circuit. Few, however, are up to the task. Of the 2,100 diners who attempted the challenge in 2024, only one in 10 gained a spot on the wall of fame.

Still, Lee doesn’t want that to discourage folks from grabbing a fork and knife. He notes that women have a 50-50 success rate. In fact, the current record was set by Molly Schuyler, who bested Joey Chestnut, the 16-time Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest champion. Unfazed by her accomplishment, Schuyler celebrated her victory with another steak to cap off the evening. 

HUNGER GAMES

Mere mortals might want to bring a crowd—and maybe a forklift—for these other eating challenges

Texas-Size Donut at Round Rock Donuts 
Round Rock and Cedar Park

This orange whopper of a glazed pastry, tinted with food coloring to mimic the shade of an egg yolk, clocks in at 2 pounds and 14 inches. The donut was first introduced as a novelty in the early ’40s when the shop was still known as Lone Star Bakery.

The Zellagabetsky at Kenny & Ziggy’s
Houston

If Dagwood Bumstead’s comic sandwiches came to life, they might look like this 4-pound, eight-layer behemoth. Those who conquer every tier of Swiss cheese, pastrami, corned beef, tongue, turkey, and salami, score a free slice of cheesecake. At that point, what’s a few extra calories? 

Chicken-Fried Steak at The Wagon Wheel 
Eagle Pass

Some chicken-fried steaks approach the edges of a dinner plate—owner Selena Buentello Price’s version encompasses a large pizza platter. The more than 2-pound stunner is breaded, fried crisp, and doused with a ladle full of white gravy.

Big Lou’s 62 at Big Lou’s Pizza
San Antonio

This pizzeria’s 62-inch pie, available by special order, makes its other massive specimen (42 inches) look like something out of the pee-wee leagues. Topped with 88 ounces of sauce and 16 pounds of shredded cheese, the mammoth iteration requires custom-made tools and several servers to deliver it to the table.

Giant Cinnamon Roll at Green Vegetarian Cuisine
San Antonio

Chris Behrend came to oversize eats by birthright. His mother, Lulu Singleton, was a household name in San Antonio for making a massive 3.5-pound cinnamon roll. Lulu’s bakery closed a few years back, but the pastry lives on at her son’s restaurant, which debuted in 2007.

Giant Torta at Tacos Locos
San Angelo

Call ahead for this humongous sandwich filled with
5 pounds of meats like
steak and chorizo, as well
as cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes. Be warned: The torta is also liberally slathered in crema. A family-sized roll of paper towels should do the trick.

CROWNING
GLORY

BY PAULA MEJÍA

Roughly halfway through a tense football game against Georgia last fall, a University of Texas at Austin student named Grant Walther (below) became an unwitting ambassador of a storied (and soaring) standard of beauty. When an ESPN camera crew briefly showed Walther on the televised broadcast, the image went viral—not because of the stoic expression on his face, but rather for the 20-year-old’s abundant coif. The internet swiftly transformed Walther into a meme, dubbing him “Texas hair guy.”

Given that hirsute habits no longer dominate popular culture the way they did in midcentury America, Walther’s moment in the spotlight might seem like an anomaly. But not in Texas. If anything, the passage of time has transformed a bold aesthetic preference for voluminous hair into a Lone Star State lifestyle exemplified by the likes of musician Lyle Lovett and late Gov. Ann Richards.

“THE HIGHER THE HAIR,
THE CLOSER TO GOD.”

Dolly Parton is credited with
coining the phrase back in the ’60s. 

Yet big hair looks a little different these days from the stiff, helmetesque ’dos of decades past, says Kevin Ozowski, a stylist at Tangerine Salon in Dallas. Although Ozowski says some of his older clients tend to take a more traditional approach, a modern look with more layers, movement, and bounce is now in vogue. The hairstylist and Dallas-based drag queen Tasha Kohl has also seen the trend moving toward  “big waves,” which she believes nods to another hair icon of yesteryear: actress and Corpus Christi native Farrah Fawcett (below). 

Some things about the trend have remained constant, though. “You basically go in and just tease, tease, spray, spray, spray,” says Kohl, who first began building her hair to astronomic heights back in the 1980s as a means of accentuating her figure. These gravity-defying tresses also continue to test the amount of hairspray humans can possibly apply to a single head of hair. By Ozowski’s estimation, his clients on the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders use half a can of hairspray on game day, as they continuously restyle their coifs. This ensures those sitting in the nosebleeds can still see their hair standing tall and mighty.

$600

The high mark of what a cut
and color complete with big hair styling
will cost you in Dallas

10

Cans of hairspray that
Ozwoski’s salon goes through in
a typical week