Besides, the cattle don't care how we look.
In my book chapter titled “Farm Fashion,” I described some of my farm clothes: a denim jacket purchased at a garage sale for $5.00; Bill’s old ragged-around-the-edges olive drab army coat, vintage mid-1960’s; a Cargill Industries freebie stocking cap; heavy work gloves; and my gumboots, also known as my “Big Girl Boots.”
Included in this stylish collection are ski clothes I no longer ski in: double-layer underwear, turtleneck shirts and socks. I also have a couple of ski jackets, colorful stocking caps and headbands, and gloves and mittens with liners for both. However, when I’m mingling with the cattle and slopping through mud and muck, I prefer to wear outer clothing that can be hosed off, if necessary, or deemed no great loss if it’s unsalvageable.
A new item for me this year is a pair of leg gaiters. There were three reasons for this: One, we had 13 inches of blowing, drifting snow and my snow boots weren’t tall enough to wade through it without filling up with the cold white stuff; two, the boot zippers won’t stay up; and three, one of the boots sprung a leak along a seam. I can’t part with it right now to be repaired but the gaiter covers up the split seam.
So, what does this farm fashion maven look like in her chore ensemble?