Prairie Chic

Take bibs, for instance. They've never really gone out of style. Google 'em, and you'll find thousands, on hip models, too. And it's no wonder. If you've ever owned them, you know dang well they're like wearing nothing at all. It's no wonder they're the go-to in your basic prairie wardrobe, even if they're not Sunday-go-to-meeting. I've had 'em for years, more than one pair along the way, even though my wife, who's from the prairie herself, says she'll leave me if I ever wear them anywhere but the back forty. There sort of mostly for home.

No matter. What I'm saying is, bibs are always in. On the right people.

That's why I wasn't blown away when I noticed the Style section of yesterday's New York Times trumpet out the latest fashion sensation, what they call "prairie chic." Love it. "What’s behind a recent rage for designer ruffles, calicos, gingham and high collars?" the Times asked. "It’s a whole new breed of Pioneer Woman. Call her the Urban Prairie Girl (U.P.G.?)."

Love it. The prairie is finally in. For the first time since the dark days of the early 20th century, the Middle West, hemorrhaging population for more than a century now, may well become, well, chic. Mostly lily white--only occasionally not--hard-working, well-educated, conservative, stay-at-home folks (we gave you Trump, after all) might just become well, all the rage.

"The prints are Laura Ashley-esque micro-florals, calicos and gingham," the Times claims. "The necklines are high, sometimes there is a bib or apron, there is usually at least one ruffle."

It's happening on the streets of New York. Just read it yesterday. Try not to gasp aloud.
Here, look for yourself. 

Can county fairs, pot luck suppers, vintage John Deeres be far behind? "My Antonia has become Our Antonia, the Times quipped. Wonderful. 

Soon enough, I figure, we'll host waves of tourists, millions of iPhones snapping shots of corn and soybeans and us--at church, Friday night football, stopping for a cone at the Dairy Queen, checking out the chicks at Bomgaars. 

Got tattoos or rings in your nose? Time to let go of that silliness. Crochet yourself a scarf or mittens. Maybe a pair of potholders. Grow tomatoes. Join a Bible study. Slap on a seed cap. Stay home. 

Read a book. I got one. Set in South Dakota. A rarity for sure. I can make you a deal. Thousands will soon enough be ripping out their ear buds to read Ruth Suckow novels. The Music Man will be back on Broadway. There'll be ten thousand productions of anything with Laura Ingalls Wilder. 

Listen, if it's in the Times, it's soon to be sweeping the nation. Not just some hula hoop fad either. We're looking at the real thing happening, a miracle of a turn around.  We're in fashion. We're actually getting cool. 

It's settled, I figure. Wait till my wife sees it.  Soon enough, me and my UPG will be going to town in our bibs. Sure.