This weekend, for only the second time in my fashion-blogging history, we were stopped by a passer-by while out taking outfit photos, and asked what the hell we thought we were doing, what with the camera, and the posing in the middle of a country lane, and all that.
The first time this happened, as you may recall, it was the police who stopped us... and who proceeded to accuse Terry of being a filthy stalker, out taking photos of me with his telephoto lens, like a paparazzi. (Even although he wasn’t actually using a telephoto lens, and I was standing right in front of him, posing.)
This time, it was a farmer. In a tractor. Which he actually pulled over off the road, so he could question us more fully. GOD.
Luckily for us, the questions were of the friendly/curious type this time. I mean, it wasn’t a “Ger orf mah land!” type of situation or anything like that, although, admittedly, that WOULD have made this story a bit more interesting. It was still plenty embarrassing, however, which is why I decided to hang back and pretend to be busy on my phone, and let Terry deal with the questions. (Thank God for cellphones, eh? What did we do before them? I guess we must actually have had to… talk to people? The horror!)
“So, what are the photos for?” asked the farmer.
“Oh you know,” said Terry, “Just a website!”
“Oh,” said the farmer. “So, what kind of website?”
“Um, a fashion one,” said Terry. “My wife writes about fashion, you see.”
(He nodded at me at this point. I pretended to be doing Very Busy and Important Things on my phone.)
“Oh,” said the farmer. “So, what kind of fashion?”
At this point I should really have stepped forward and put Terry out of his misery. And if I had, I would probably have said something like, “Weeeeellll, to be honest, I’d describe it more as ‘personal style’ than ‘fashion’. Because I’m not really into fashion, you know? But seeing as you ask, I guess I’d say it was mostly retro-inspired, but with a modern twist, and mixed in with the odd pair of black trousers every now and then. Today is a “black trousers” kind of day, because I’m resisting wearing tights for as long as possible, which doesn’t leave me with a whole lot of options at this time of year, you know?”
I didn’t say any of that, though, of course. Partly because, you know, WHO CARES, but also because I was really curious to see how Terry would answer the man’s question.
“So, what kind of fashion?” asked the farmer.
“Er, CLOTHES, mostly,” answered Terry. “The kind with CLOTHES.”
And then the farmer put his tractor into drive, and roared off in disgust (Really slowly, obviously. Because that’s how tractors roll.), having realised that we weren’t actually interesting characters at all, but just a couple of idiots with a camera. I mean, he probably thought he would AT LEAST get a decent story out of us, to tell the village meeting next Tuesday*, but nope, no such luck. I expect our reputation as the local village idiots is well and truly established by now, though. Especially if anyone saw me speaking to those sheep last week. (Well, they were staring at me as if they knew me: it would’ve been rude to not even say ‘hello’, wouldn’t it?)
I guess it was only a matter of time.
(*There isn’t a village meeting, by the way. Because it’s not the 1950s.)