Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Hunter Boots...

My Summer mud boots have a gaping hole in them (gasp!), and it's still too warm to break out my Arctic Muck boots.  Is there anything more gross in the world than getting chicken poo between your toes while in a non-breathable rubber boot?  I think not.  This needs to be remedied pronto.  Dear Santa, if it's not too much trouble, I'll forfeit the right to any and all gifts at Christmas time if you bring me a pair of Hunter boots, yesterday...
gray hunter boots
I think it's pretty interesting how barn chore attire has made its way into mainstream fashion.  To be completely honest, Miss Olsen is rocking a look that I'd wear every single day if I could get away with it.  Comfy sweater, comfy leggings, bad-ass jacket, slip-on boots, and a bag big enough to hold a week's worth of diapers.  It's really quite ideal...for anywhere else but rural Vermont.  Unfortunately, if I went out like this around where I live, one of two things would immediately be assumed of me:
1) That I'm a flat-lander (not from Vermont, and one of the worst insults you can give an actual Vermonter) because no actual Vermonter would ever wear their fancy stuff with the stuff that gets chicken poop on it.
2) That I spent so much money on the bag and the jacket that I couldn't afford to buy fancy boots/shoes to go with them, and therefore I'm wildly impractical and must also not be from around here.  I know this because the only jacket that Vermonters spend mad amounts of money on that gets worn with our barn boots is a red and black checked wool one.  Our family is classy enough to also own a pair of the matching pants (with suspenders).  You know you're a truly loved individual when you receive the set as a gift, as my husband did from his parents.  Dear Santa, if you could also put one of those coats (in my size, not my husband's) on my list, I promise to stop stealing my husband's and I promise not to eat all of your cookies this year...maybe.

Thanks for stopping by,

1 comment: