There's something of a uniform out here in the boonies. It was immediately obvious to me when we first moved here, and I still notice it seven years later. The requisite “Howdy, I'm a local” outfit is Carhartt work pants, an orange t-shirt from a local tractor rental company, and farm boots.
Despite my dedication in junior high to being totally in the know about brand name jeans, I have to admit I had never heard of Carhartt. Perhaps that's because I went to junior high in a foo-foo suburb of San Francisco where “work pants” were the ones that got sent to the dry cleaners. I still don't own any Carhartt apparel, nor does Rob, but I do keep threatening to drag Rob into a dedicated store over by the Portland airport. I think he'd look quite smashing in canvas dungarees. I'm not kidding.
The orange t-shirt is interesting. Rob and I both have one. They are bright, Home Depot orange and appear on the backs of young, old, male, female, townie, mountain folk. I was confused why so many people felt compelled to advertise one little farm equipment rental store on the outskirts of town. It was immediately clear when Rob went to get one when he needed a durable t-shirt for blackberry taming (we had seen several of the shirts so old and worn, they were more pink than orange and yet still in one solid piece). Rob went into Dan's place to buy a shirt and was surprised to discover they were free. Always free, all the time, take as many as you want. Dan is brilliant. Everyone wears his shirts and everyone knows his store. And yes, we have rented equipment from him.
And so this leaves us with the farm boots. They are ugly, clunky things. Think leather Crocs with steel toes and no Swiss cheese holes. Lots of people around here wear them, though. People who have livestock and tractors and pastures and barns and Carhartt's. I have sort of been eying them the past two years, the ugliness growing on me much like I suspect Uggs have grown on the psyches of all the trendy girls who wear them. I was officially won over by the farm boots at this year's Fair, as I noticed that most of the 4-H kids were wearing them, as were many fans in the grandstands for the bull riding. My back and wardrobe and music collection will never allow me to embrace cowboy boots, but the ugly brown farm boots...THOSE I could handle to further assimilate into my yee haw environs. And yes, I do realize that using the word "environs" proves my assimilation is still a work in progress.
And so yesterday, on something of a calculated whim, I stopped in at the local farm store and headed to the back where one can purchase all sorts of function-over-fashion clothing items for farming, mucking, hunting, and other such forms of working. I easily spotted the farm boots (officially called "work boots") and tried on a few pairs from the women's collection. They felt heavy and floppy, sort of like clown shoes. I was just about ready to abandon my dreams of looking all farm-like when I noticed a little sizing mat on the floor. It had outlines of feet with sizes in each. It was for the kids' work boot collection. I noticed that a kids' size 6 was not far off my women's size 7.5. So I tried on a kids' size 6 and eureka! They fit much better. And they were $10 less! Score!! I shall look like a local after all!
I was putting my cross-trainers back on when a very sturdy, woodsy woman appeared, staring at the work boot selection. I asked if she was looking for the boots. When she said yes, I immediately launched into the female bonding shopping thing of sharing my discovery of saving $10 by finding a kids pair that fit. She was pleased by the insider's tip and swiveled to look at the kids' selection but then sighed, “They don't have the camo style either. I guess the camo boots are only made for men. I REALLY want camo boots. They look so much cooler.”
And thus went dashing my dreams of being a true, cutting edge, Rural Hipster. I was thisclose! I still bought the boring brown pair, though.
Now to find out what exactly “mucking” is.
3 comments:
May I recommend Aigle boots? They might be too fancy for your area, but I sure love mine: http://www.aigleboots.com/
With your back I would avoid the labor of mucking. But that doesn't mean you can't come and keep someone who is mucking company. Or then again you can go muck about in the rain and mud with your new nifty boots. But avoid having everything get all mucked up. Not a nice way to live. Sorry- I can't come with a sentence with muckness. :)
My idea of 'mucking' is when the soil on which you tread is niether firm nor soft but a gooey mixture of the inbetween. Like a nice heavily saturated farm field or heavily troddened pasture. If just the right texture one will feel and hear the vacuum of his attempt to lift a foot out of the 'muck' from which the 'sucking the boot right off your foot' experience happens. (I think it takes an experienced 'mucker' to get out of this w/o actually losing the boot.) But mucking is not mucking w/o thoroughly coating your footwear in a nice sticky layer of 'muck' for which only the use of a hose will suffice to clean it off. (Wiping with your hands, gloved or not only transfers the entire mucky mess topside.) Better to have muck boots w/o eyelets or laces and just go with the slip-ons.
Post a Comment