Growing Corns

It’s not a typo. I know the plural form of corn that grows in fields does not have an ‘s’ on the end. This farm girl grew up around many a corn grower. Now that I am a city girl, I am surrounded by a different type of farmer…the urban ‘corns’ producer. This farmer isn’t sporting pinstriped OshKosh overalls while perched on a green John Deere tractor. She is dressed in Prada or Calvin Klein and driving a BMW. Her fields of choice are fleshy toes with red splashed nails crammed into pointy shoes even mannequins wince when they wear. (I know this is my second post in a row with a reference to mannequins. I just realized the correct spelling of the word and want to cement it in my brain.)

What is it about pointy shoes? I recently watched the show ‘What Not to Wear.’ A stylist on that show offered her opinion that pointy shoes help elongate the body and provide a slimming effect. Um, so does good posture and exercise. Why would anyone choose to strangle her toes to look good? Sure, corns grow abundantly, but it’s not like they are a true commodity. No one is going to buy them on the free market.

Noteworthy sightings of the corns farmer:

  • Wandering the mall at a turtle’s pace while wincing and clutching the arm of an adoring Y chromosome.
  • Hiking (yes, hiking) on the Billy Goat Trail in Great Falls, Virginia.  The matching bag was fabulous, by the way.  I’m sure that’s where her bottled water was.
  • Hunched over in the doctor’s office while miserably ill with something.  So committed.

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