Back in the day, when I was growing up, there were strict rules regarding the changing of the seasons and what was appropriate to wear. Although we wore jeans around the house, after all we lived on a farm, we were strictly monitored when adventuring beyond our neighborhood, especially if we needed to dress up.
Now days, denim is seen all through the year. When I was young and on the fly, every fall several of us females would see our guys off to the local university football game, or at least seated at the bar watching the away games. Then we would take off on a road trip every Saturday afternoon without fail.
We had our jean skirts, jean jackets, denim purses with the jewels and what-sits on them, appropriate shoes or knee boots, and off we would go down back country roads to the bars we only visited once a year, for nachos and beer. What could get any better than that.
As we drove the back roads, to a different bar each week, we saw scenery we didn't get to see at any other time, leaves were changing, tongues were flying, we caught up with each others lives.
We have all scattered, over the years, one even died way too young, but the memories linger on every Saturday in fall, when I think back on the blue jean jacket and all.
What is your favorite fall memory? Was denim involved?
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