Something troubling has been brought to my attention. I’ve decided to include it in the blog so that all of those quietly suffering from the same affliction can find camaraderie and seek help.

There’s someone on the farm, someone very close to me, with a serious dilemma. I’m keeping her identity secret in order to preserve her dignity. Let’s call her “Long Zipper.” Long Zipper used to consider herself fashionable. She used to take a certain amount of pride in her appearance. But who needs fashion on a farm? When you are covered in mud, dog slobber, pig slobber, goat slobber, and every other kind of slobber, who really notices a cute pair of leggings? And you certainly can’t hike in ballet flats. (At least not every day.) So, over time, you (Long Zipper) begin to lower your standards of what is an acceptable way of dressing yourself. A shirt covered in blood stains is considered work wear. Pleated-front khakis two sizes too large that a random guest left in your house five years ago become your “comfortable” pants. Anything clean becomes your “going-out outfit.” It’s a slippery slope.

We’ve come to the crux of our problem: pants. (See Exhibit A below.)

Many of Long Zipper’s jeans button at chest height. One pair (Exhibit A) is peg-legged, and has the words “Pepe, London” embroidered on their back pocket. Who is Pepe? Why did he have his jeans embroidered in the UK? Where did Long Zipper acquire Pepe’s pants? It was a long and sordid road though the 1990’s. We’ll leave it at that.

Please send words of encouragement to Long Zipper, who is reluctant to let go of her pants. Please tell her to burn them, to liberate her belly button. With your help, we will find a solution.