Those who know me, know I haven’t got much fashion sense. I didn’t need it when I lived on the farm: the cows didn’t care and if my clothing was functional, that was fine with me. When I moved off the farm to more peopled surroundings, things changed. If it wasn’t for my sister’s guidance, I would wear the wrong colours for my skin tone, wrong styles for my body type, and, well…just wrong everything.
So…here I am in the desert of New Mexico. It can be freezing cold at night and osculate from searing hot to “Boy! It’s chilly!” several times throughout the day.
For instance, this morning I exited Manna wearing a toque, two different coloured sweaters, a non-matching plaid shirt (even I knew this) and long pants. An hour later I changed into a swimsuit, no socks, but still with my dust-covered, leather shoes on to protect me from the burrs and thorns that are constantly threatening to engage their thorny spikes into anywhere my body was exposed.
Think about the sight I must have been wearing a bright blue swimsuit in a desert where there isn’t a body of water anywhere near here. But I digress.
An hour later, the colour of my lips was starting to match my swimsuit, so it was back to the long pants … but only one sweater. I don’t know if the ensemble matched and to be truthful, I didn’t care. When I had lunch, I was glad to sit next to the stove.
Not long after, the sun began beating down once again, so I rolled up my pants to knee high and ditched the sweater for a thin pullover. I kept my socks on beneath my once polished shoes that were so dusty, I couldn’t see what colour they were. I would have cleaned them but after a few steps no one would have known it. The desert is really, really dusty.
Still, this outfit became too warm, so the long pants traded places with some shorts, no socks, (but I still kept the needed shoes which rattled around without socks). I know it won’t be long before I once again dig out the long pants and a sweater or two, matched or not. I’m wearing out my clothing. With all this constant changing, it’s as if I’m on a fashion(less) runway!
There is one big positive though. My wonderful sister, who I love with all my heart, is too far away to see the fashion mess I’ve become – once again.
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