Fashion
As
my shovel sinks into the resisting dirt, I glance down at my attire
and smile, knowing that the famous designer Giorgio Armani is
somewhere, looking down on me approvingly. Actually, as he isn't
dead as of this writing, he could be up in one of the tall oaks, but
it is hard to see among all of the leaves. [Random thought: if he
died in Australia, would he be looking up
at me?]
OK, if reading the opening paragraph didn't make you
believe that you had entered an alternate universe, then you haven't
seen me sweating, digging, pushing a wheelbarrow and swatting biting
insects.
In
this
universe the first consideration is that I not get arrested due to my
clothing. The second is that I not get eaten by bugs. The third is
that I'm not too hot or cold. And the fourth is … uh … I don't
know. I guess I don't give much consideration to garden fashion
after all.
For the first consideration, most of my body is usually
covered due to the second and third considerations. My wife does get
upset if she notices that my underpants start to ride high as my
sweat-soaked long pants drift south, obedient to the law of gravity.
But that's pretty rare (her noticing, that is).
The second point, keeping the bugs from getting fat on
me, involves several things:
a) Insect repellent, which I spray on liberally
b) Long white pants and a white long-sleeved shirt which
makes it easier to see ticks attaching themselves. Also, the clothes
reflect less long-waved radiation, making me less visible to
mosquitoes.
c) A dense hat. Someone took away the hair on top of my
head and I haven't been able to find it (my hair, not my head).
On a side note, the only person to comment on my
white-out appearance was a young girl who lives across the street. I
gave her the answer in b) above and she seemed satisfied, though
maybe anything I said would have ended the questioning.
 | ||
| Rumor has it that I am NOT getting one of these plaques. | (c)Wikimedia Commons |
Due to the third point, maintaining a blissful
temperature is almost impossible. During the summer my bug-armor
keeps me dripping, but luckily I don't care. I clean up when I'm
finished. Also, I'm rich enough to afford a washer/dryer and a
shower. The winter is another story as gloves that keep me warm are
usually too thick to work with, so sometimes the sessions have to be
cut short when I can't feel my hands.
There
are some days in the spring and fall, though, when I don't need a
long-sleeved shirt, or sweatshirt, or coat, or deep-sea diver's suit.
Just an undershirt showing its age. When a new family moved in next
door a few years ago they would look askance at this poorly dressed,
sweat-soaked laborer digging holes, mixing dirt and hauling his
wheelbarrow back and forth. My wife and I had considered putting up
a fence along that property line but the sight of me convinced them
to put one up. Now their backyard parties would not be ruined by the
sight of a laborer, shuffling back and forth for hours in sweat
soaked old clothes. So, what has my fashion done for me? It's saved
me thousands of dollars in fence costs! Take that
Giorgio Armani!
