Dress Code Not Confined to Farm

By Denise Anderson First Published January 20, 1995I stopped by James' and Sharon's house the other day to see if my friend wanted to ride to town with me. Sharon met me at the door, attired in scruffy overalls and a flannel shirt.“I'd love to go to town,” she said. “I have a few errands to run myself. Just let me change my clothes.”I took a seat at the kitchen table to wait. A few minutes later, Sharon reappeared.“I thought you were going to change,” I said, taking in her overalls and flannel shirt.Sharon looked down at her clothes. “I did,” she said. “These are my town overalls.”I eyed them skeptically. “You look like you just came out of the hog barn,” I said.Sharon examined her overalls, then sniffed at her arm and smiled. “Nope, they don't smell, except for fabric softener. These are definitely my town overalls and they're even clean.”I didn't want to make an issue of it, especially since I've been to town a few times in questionable attire myself.Usually, farmers don't worry much about their attire when they go to town. If the trip is required and they are working, they usually go as they are to save time. They do try to wash their hands, but if they're working away from home, that's not always possible.So we see them, in everything from dusty, sleeveless shirts in the summer, to questionably smelling coveralls in the winter. Greasy hats, torn work coats - well, some don't look like they have a home, let alone a washing machine.And even I have gotten THAT look from my banker and the store owner when I came in with manure-coated…I mean, muddy…boots. It's not that I don't care about the fancy carpet or the just-mopped floor, I just didn't have any extra boots with me to change into. And considering I just had to drop off cattle at the sale barn, I thought my boots were pretty clean.Still, I didn't really want to go to town with Sharon wearing those disreputable overalls. I didn't want to hurt her feelings either.“Where did you get those anyway?” I asked. “They look a little big on you.”“That was the great thing about them,” Sharon replied. They're very comfortable, they have lots of useful pockets and didn't cost her a dime.“They were Dad's,” she explained. “He outgrew them, so Mom gave them to me. She said they were just the thing I needed for living on a farm.”I thought I had seen them before. Their previous owner was Alvin. He wore them to town all the time. And I don't know one person who ever remarked they weren't appropriate on him.I sighed. I know when I'm beaten. Still, I had one more question. “You're not going to wear your rubber work boots, are you?” I asked.“Not unless I was going to unload animals at the sale barn,” she replied. “I don't want to get my tennis shoes muddy, you know.”

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