Sunday, February 1, 2015

A New Player In the World of High Fashion

Did you know the world of fashion has a new supermodel? It's true. And it's someone we all know. Oh, please! Don't flatter me! I know the first person who flashed (!) into your mind was Val. I must admit that I am not the newest supermodel. But it's somebody from my household!

You might assume that The Pony has been roped into modeling tack. As polished as he would look in saddles, stirrups, bridles, halters, reins, bits, harnesses, and's not him.

Perhaps Genius has been snapping a portfolio of himself to submit for a cover of the Mensa Bulletin. Perhaps. But he's not the newest supermodel.

Which leaves...HICK! Hick is the newest supermodel! I know. I was as flabbergasted as you must be. I was happily ignorant of his latest moonlighting venture until this morning, as he was on the way out the door to visit my mom. He had the door open, in fact, when he suddenly shut it and said, "See my new jeans?"

Of course Hick was at the front door, behind the long couch, and I in his La-Z-Boy waiting on my fourth load of laundry to finish, after frying up some bacon in the pan, bacon which I brought home myself. I could not see his new jeans.

"No. You're behind the couch. I can't turn my neck, either. So you'll have to walk over here in front of the window so I can see you." You don't have to ask Hick twice to parade in front of you. The scary part is, sometimes you don't have to ask him at all. And even scarier than a name-calling in-dwelling entity, sometimes he isn't wearing anything to model.

"See? They're my new Wranglers. Just my size! 44-29. I don't even have to get them hemmed." He pirouetted, then turned to face the window, leaving me a view of his hands caressing his own buttocks. "They fit just right."

"Yes. They do fit well."

"I got them for only four dollars at Goodwill. My boss would never wear a pair of jeans from Goodwill."

" would you know? Unless he announced that he got them for four dollars from Goodwill."

That's the thing. Hick can't keep his mouth shut about his bargains. I suppose he's also a spokesmodel for Goodwill.


  1. Hey, I call thrift stores "boutiques." Each piece (or most of them) is a one-of-a-kind find.

    Hick caressing his own rear end. That's a sight that has seared its way into my brain...

  2. That is a bargain though. Plus Wranglers last forever.

  3. Didn't you say he was into hairstyling? I guess fashion was the logical next step.

  4. I peruse the GW weekly and also strut around in my newest garb, but grab my own hiney as I'm parading? NEVER! That Hick is going to make the high fashion scene soon. I hear someone calling his name. Is that you Calvin Kline?

  5. 44-29 is MY size. I like Hick more and more.

  6. Sioux,
    The boys and I have a saying around here: What's been seen cannot be unseen.

    Yes, Wranglers must last forever, or they would wear out when the wearer strokes his buttocks to call attention to their fit.

    It wouldn't surprise me if Hick put a rack of Wranglers in his Little Barbershop of Horrors. And a full-length mirror so he and his customers can admire their butt-caressing technique.

    I think it might be the Crocs people. Tonight I caught him slipping on my navy blue Crocs that are ALMOST NEW so he could walk out to the garage. I don't want my Crocs misshapen by his troll feet! After paying $1000 for those inserts from The Good Feet Store, I think he should tape them to his feet and wear them 24/7. Then he wouldn't even need shoes.

    Well, you'd better stay out of Backroads. There ain't room for two of you in the Goodwill store. Not size-wise. You'd be like two species trying to occupy the same niche! Sorry. That's the science teacher in me leaking out. You'd be like two future brides clawing and caterwauling at Filene's Basement Sale. Sorry. That's an east coast reference. Joe H should appreciate it. What I meant to say is that you and Hick would be like Lucy and Ethel fighting over the armrest at the theater. Or my sweet, sweet Juno and dimwitted Ann growling over a deer leg on the front porch.

  7. I love a good bargain myself. I am apt to announce my savings, too. Mostly around my girls, because I live to embarrass them. My son loves bargains, too. He will text me from the grocery to let me in on his couponing prowess.

    1. Your son needs to high-tail it to Goodwill, because they might have some Wranglers in his size!