Best Western: These Boots Were Made for Squawking

 Willa Western Necklaces

Tee: Kohl's

Skirt: Celebrity Pink, Macy's

Boots: 2 Lips Too, DSW

Scarf: Boscov's

Sunglasses: Relic, Kohl's

Green bracelet: Parade of Shoes

Beaded bracelet: Plymouth Plantation Museum

Green ring: Claire's

Orange ring: Gifted

Barrette: The Tote Trove

 Toothy Triumvirate Necklace

Dress: Lula Roe

Shoes: Nine West, Marshalls

Bag: Olivia Miller, JCPenney

Silver belt: Boscov's

Turquoise belt: Mixit, JCPenney

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

Royal blue bangle: Kohl's

Turquoise bangle: Mixit, JCPenney

Flower bangle: Mixit, JCPenney

Barrette: The Tote Trove

Snazzy Steer Necklace

Top: Xhilaration, Target

Skirt (a dress!): Target

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Bag: JCPenney

Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Relic, Kohl's 

Sometimes you want to feel country but not be country . . . which is why they made glamping.  At least that's what it says in Sophie Kinsella's My Not So Perfect Life, a novel about a farmer's daughter masquerading as a city slicker.  Because if there's one thing that books and movies tell us, it's that people always want to be something they're not.  For example, sometimes I dress like a cowgirl even though I've always lived in New Jersey.  I realize that this makes it sound as if I want to be a cowgirl, which I do not, cow patties and stunt riding being a mall parking lot away from my wheelhouse.  But once in a while it's nice to enjoy the trappings -- and the rhinestones.  The result is always a Halloweenish, Hollywood version of what I think a cowgirl should look like.  Kind of like when Ree Drummond (yes, that Ree Drummond, of Pioneer Woman fame), dons her gussied-up version of dressed down to meet her boyfriend's parents for the first time only to find them in old clothes, giving her the once-over.  (In case you're wondering, this vignette isn't from Ree's Food Network show, but rather her memoir-slash-origin-story, Black Heels to Tractor Wheels: A Love Story.)  Ree's experience resonates with me because it makes a strange sort of sense.  Having style is -- despite what the fashion rags say -- defined as the dreaded trying too hard.  Fashion is frivolous.  If you're putting in the time to look a certain way, even if that way is I-couldn't-care-less-and-rolled-out-of-bed-like-this, then the jig is up.

But back to western wear.  Or should I say flair?  Or maybe even square . . . as in, dancing.  No, definitely not that one.  Too many flashbacks to fourth grade music class and the grand drama of being paired up with the class Casanova or the kid who always smelled like old cheese.  So, flair it is!  And I troweled it on when making these necklaces.  Impractical, kitschy, and showy, they're everything that a no-nonsense country girl isn't -- and still somehow capture her essence.  And who knows?  Maybe that girl is sick of wide open spaces and stores that only sell chicken feed.  Maybe she wants to light out for the city and kick up her heels and wear something sparkly, Bessie and her bum udder be damned . . .

Okay, time to rein it in.   Let's peruse a few pics of ranch-friendly stuff in my suburban-New Jersey-estranged-from-Mr.-Ed house, shall we?  I don't know about you, but I think a little frontier flavor makes any house homier.

And hits the spot when you want something western that isn't an omelet.   

 A painting I got for $5 at Kirklands. 

 Cacti and birdies, a.k.a. the "squawkers." 

Sunny side up with sunflowers.