I moved from Brisbane to St George ten years ago. I packed up all my city clobber, and naively assumed it would all be useful and appropriate in the country. I'm ashamed to admit I only owned two pairs of jeans in the year 2000. One was a faded blue colour, and the other was possibly creamy in colour. Both of them were usually stored in the far recesses of my wardrobe; only ever utilised on the coldest of cold days. I found them uncomfortable and bulky, and preferred the flexibility of black pants. I offer no apology for this. I was a city girl, and black pants were the height of fashion. They probably still are. I wouldn't know. I can't even tell you what movies are showing at the cinemas anymore.
I had been living in 'the bush' for a few weeks, when across the road from my house (at the showgrounds) was an event called a 'campdraft'. Anyone who knows anything about horses and cattle would be able to tell you about a campdraft, (hubby corrected my spelling by telling me it is only one word - not two) but I only knew that it was something about horses and cattle. (For more information, click here.) I thought this would be a great opportunity to 'socialise', meet a few locals and do something different. So I ran off to get dressed, and emerged minutes later in black pants, some synthetic shirt and possibly black heels. I'd thrown my hair back and put on minimal makeup.
I scaled the first fence, and made it to the outer perimeter of the bar area. I scanned the crowd; a blur of blues, checks, buttons, collars... and jeans. I froze, mid-step, and started my retreat. I was back home faster than you could count to ten.
Even at the local 'watering holes', the standard dress code involved jeans and varying 'dress code levels' of tops and shirts. By the end of the next week, (out of sheer necessity) I think I owned two new pairs of jeans.
Today, my wardrobe consists of this many pairs of jeans. (I was also wearing a pair, and another pair was in the wash). I just showed this picture to CP, who sees nothing wrong with it. He possibly owns more jeans than I do, and apparently he thinks this is 'normal'.
Jeans are the unofficial uniform of the bush. No wardrobe is complete without them. And they are SUPREMELY comfortable, despite my initial reservations.
Today it is my black pants that are pushed all the way to the back of my wardrobe. There is no practical use for them at all these days. Jeans are functional and I can't imagine existing without them. Jeans are especially good for scaling fences. (Including fences into campdrafts). But I don't need to worry about that anymore.