Time Travelling Farmer's Market

So this post took a while. Hence the name. Like Dr. Who but with less time-lording. More forced posing and beef jerky. Just keep reading. You'll get it.

The view from here. Jurgen waits.

I know what you're thinking. Fur is so hot in summer.

Ended up at Millarville Farmer's Market. It was quite fun. Lots of local stuff and, as usual, I wore the totally wrong shoes. I almost broke my ankle at least 15.6 times, and Dave was horribly embarrased. This is why I do my farmer's market shopping in platform cork sandals when I'm single.

Some little girl just stroked out over this.



Serious. It's Couture Wool Barbie. All hand-knit by some baba from Millarville.





Land of many meats. Alberta.

The only picture that turned out. Dave is not Annie L.

So here's what I wore. The shoes were almost suicidal given the gravel roads and "No dogs OR horses" aesthetic of the place. Needless to say, if I lived in the country I'd be dead by now.

I made this slammin' outfit. Well. The dress. Cobbling is beyond me. For now. The dress is 2 indian scarves sewn together, with chains and grommets added for straps, belted and worn loose. On a 30 degree Alberta late-summer day, it was perfect.



This is the obligatory artist shot of a horse's ass. I thought it was pretty cool.

In case you can't read the title of this charming booklet from olden times, it's called "Smith's Husky Chicks from the North". The best find of the day in the quaint Antique-Store tourist trap next to the Longview Beef Jerky Hut. As a husky chick from the north, I endorse this booklet.

And I don't even know WHAT these are, but they seemed so very Canadian in their precious lack of awareness of how uncool they are, making them thusly (by rule of La Hipsters), cool.

It's almost like a beaver and those 'rich people charity shoes' Todd's had sex.