There was a time when the farmer's daughter was every woman in the country. Industrial farming and our urban lifestyle has done away with that. I am going to guess the percent of women who have actually had "a roll in the hay" is less than .05%, and a good thing, as when hay pokes into you, it hurts as much as anything poking into you would. HAY, that's a good one!
Still, like hanging a sombrero on the wall to make a Mexican restaurant, placing a bale of hay in a studio is how to imply your pin up has that fresh-mown smell. A throwback to a more innocent America, when a traveling salesman could stop by for a handout, a night in the barn and a slight, nay, nearly impossible chance to leave his spawn behind. It didn't happen much, but the notion entered the vernacular and persists to this day, though only in nostalgic, closely monitored "hayrides" organized around Halloween by the Chamber of Commerce.
"Daisy Dukes" (tight blue jean cutoffs hiked so high they have to hurt) have replaced most hay as the prop of choice, but do a search for "The farmer's daughter" and you will still see the idealized barn boff of hay. Even though your chances of getting laid in a loft today is far greater in a repurposed industrial space downtown which now houses bad artists. In fact, I think your chances are greater to get laid by an alien in a crop circle. Well, keep hoping.
Presented for your entertainment is a big bale of beauties, each "bringing in the sheaves" for your pleasure, starting off with Bettie Page as that usually brings me a harvest of "likes" on Facebook.
JIM LINDERMAN BOOKS and EBOOKS ($5.99 each) ARE AVAILABLE HERE at BLURB.COM
