Arena dirt is its own special brand of substance. It clings to clothes, skin, sneaks into creases and crevices, and leaves you feeling a little dust-coated all the time. The dirty smear on the towel after I wash my face makes me wonder if I need a high-powered air blaster in the entry way of the house.
We're doing so much work with Bar right now, I'm feeling pretty gritty most of the time. Even when I'm not riding him, I'm watching him in the round pen - where he stirs up his own little dust storm every time - or waiting my turn with either him or Lena. Plenty of time to collect a significant amount of arena dirt.
Not to mention the mud from the paddock that soaks into your jeans and somehow doesn't scrape off with normal means. Nope. It waits until you wash your clothes to nicely coat the inside of the washing machine. The arena dirt helps with that, too.
I occasionally watch the show What Not to Wear and am afraid that - even for them - I would be a lost cause. Why? All of my clothes have to be at least vaguely barn-resistant or they just stay in my closet feeling alone and forlorn. I'm afraid cute little pumps don't deal well with dirt in any format, even if it's just long enough to get to my boots in the back of the truck. We won't even discuss mixing nice fabrics and horse noses.
Too bad. I bet I could spend $5,000 on cowboy boots and jeans really, really quickly.
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