Large biceps make it incredibly hard to look feminine in an evening gown. And my shoe supply is somewhat limited these days… When invited to a wedding last summer, I panicked. Did I have a prayer of converting my cowboy boots into wedding attire?
With a full time career in the horse industry, fashion and I have developed a love hate relationship. I love the fact that I can run out to work in a pair of Wranglers. And I hate the fact that I can I run out to work in a pair of Wranglers. Said jeans – aka, my work attire – may or may not even be clean!
Gone are the days when I might have spent up to an hour curling and prepping my hair for a day in the office. These days, a ballcap and hair elastic will suffice.
Make-up, makes no difference to the cows.
And high heels would likely get me killed or at least severely injured, in a fresh patch of Saskatchewan gumbo.
Sadly, I have an entire closet full of beautiful clothes that I barely wear anymore. Ironically, my hubbie\’s side of the closet has fallen down three times in the last month.
\”What can I say?\” He grins. Yeah, I guess an excessive amount of Wranglers and a cantilever closet organizer are a terrible combination.
The issue of my closet came to a head when Clay and I were invited last August to a country wedding for our close friends, Danielle and Wade LaForge. Clay was to be the MC. I panicked. Any evening gowns I own – worn in a previous lifetime – have not seen the light of day, in years. And of course, I never left myself enough time to do some shopping prior to the big event. Then there was the issue of shoes. I deliberated, “Could a pair of cowboy boots work with a skirt?”
Maybe if I scrubbed and Lexall’ed them up well enough. And took my spurs off.
In the end, I decided on a pretty black and white summer dress and a pair of black, strappy sandals.
Upon our arrival at the ceremony, my sandals proved difficult for walking across an uneven pasture and became accomplice to a twig stabbing of my left foot. And I won’t mention the near-Marilyn Monroe move I pulled when a gust of wind caught me by surprise. That’s precisely when it hit me: What was I thinking? Danielle is a country girl after my own heart. She probably still would have loved me had I shown up in jeans!