In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Clothes (May) Make the (Wo)man.”

Question:  How important are clothes to you? Describe your style, if you have one, and tell us how appearance impacts how you feel about yourself.

Without clothes where would I be?   I guess I would be hanging my hat at my residence in a nudest colony.  (Is it against the rules to wear a hat there?) Hey, anything’s possible, and you have to admit it could be downright interesting.  I wouldn’t have to spend money on clothes but  I wonder  how many cases of sunscreen would it take to keep my lilly-white fanny from blistering.  Being Scotch-Irish I would do well, indeed, to slather myself from head to toe and not just me arse!  Therefore, to answer the first question, clothes are important  because I don’t relish the idea of modeling various degrees and shades of skin cancer.  That’s one run-way I’d truly like to avoid.

If you haven’t already guessed just let me make it clear I’m definitely not a clothes whore, far from it.  I grew up relatively poor.  My mom was a single mom who worked very hard to keep us fed and clothed, and she did a damn fine job.  I always had something to put in my belly and I never had to walk barefoot in the snow as claimed by many a old timer.  Neither were my under drawers sown from burlap flour sacks.  They were made from the cotton that grew in the fields close by.  So when I claim to growing up poor I’m definitely not painting a picture of bloated bellies and rundown shacks.

The scenery of my childhood was more to the liking of pinto beans and cornbread,  fires from a wood stove and paper bags of hand-me-downs  from siblings, cousins and friends.  The red haired, pony-tailed girl I use to be enjoyed seeing each one of those grocery bags of used clothes.  

Times have changed.  The pony-tailed girl now lives in a 50 year old body.  I purchase jeans and tees from Kohls ,  enjoy steaks from Texas Roadhouse, drive a truck I adore, feed not only myself but also a wife, two dogs, two cats and anyone who happens to walk through the front (or back) door at supper time.   Indeed my social and economic status has improved but I can honestly say I’m still a simple country girl who is tickled pink to wear faded Levis, “Walking Dead” tee-shirts and a good pair of Asics for my feet.  Now that’s what I call styling!