100 Of The Best Pics Posted For The “Target Dress Challenge” That Look Like They’re From A Post-Pandemic Farm Life
The chance that these floral farm dresses that objectively look like the last thing you’d wanna wear are sold out at Targets all over is a high one. And it’s not because people have damaged their fashion sense for good after spending prolonged periods of time in quarantine (although that would be a fair reason), but rather because the #TargetDressChallenge is going viral.
It all started when someone pointed out that a bunch of long dresses at Target look like “people just lost the farm after locusts ate their crops” but in the pandemic world. And this is where it got fun.
People went in for a full pandemic farm, aka Little House On the Prairie, look by posting their pics in the dress while carrying livestock, working the land, and doing other typical farm chores. It soon blew up into a viral trend with entire families getting on board for a much-needed laugh.
Image credits: BeExcellentToEachOtter
Amazingly, he saw the dress hanging after being washed and came up with the idea himself, no inspiration or alcohol or coercion needed!
I had no problems looking this mean and crazy but Meliyah had a hard time not laughing.
Thanks to Lexi for the photography. She didn’t have a target dress so she missed out.
Gilead won’t be taking over this damn homestead anytime soon!
At first I laughed when she and our boys suggested it, then I was like, ‘You know what!? The world has seen so much sadness and really bad stuff this year, my family has suffered some serious losses this year, it will make my boys laugh and maybe someone else. Plus, I love using our little farm for the shoot and making my photographer wife smile, you know? And, the boys are going to learn to make pillows out of the dress fabric when we are done—we all win. If you can make someone laugh or smile, why not!?’”
I feel Margaret got a little bit risky in her decision to flaunt that racy lace seam. After all we are modest women out on the farmstead. Unwanted stares from the menfolk is unholy.
Supplies were getting scarce. We needed to venture out for food. Trudging uphill, both ways in the snow as our ancestors once did. Margaret was able to keep us safe with her trusty 22 and her deadeye for shots.
We were able to make dinner from an elegant goose that will feed the kin for a fortnight. We shall milk the goats (oops they’re boys) and churn some butter and feast.
Lastly our local gymnasium allowed us to get some physical fitness in to keep up our health and our spirits.
I am vexed, I say. The earth has been salted, the chickens refuse to lay. Donkeys born without a tail and other such ominous signs. But Providence has left me my solitary sister in poultry. And we stubbornly refuse to yield. So let the year two aught two one breathe it’s impotent fire. I stand or squat ready.
I don’t reckon I’m ready to say goodbye, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a hankering for some fresh bacon. These grits ain’t cutting it, and dine-in just ain’t an option round these parts anymore.
Journal entry, Day 332 of Pandemic: “The Pony Express finally arrived into town today, delivering much need letters of encouragement from family and friends alike and alarming news of civil discord. I was so surprised that I nearly burnt the rhubarb cobbler simmering in the dutch oven. After I churned my own butter, I sold off our fine China made of porcelain, no need for that nonsense anymore under a 10-month long quarantine. I was able to barter for a new cutlery knife from the local general store since my old one was so dull it wouldn’t cut hot butter. After daily chores and 5 minutes of homeschool, the girls made corn husk dolls and the boys dipped candles for our lanterns.”
In the winter the hens take a break. We grabbed those old hens and reminded them of their fate if them eggs ain’t coming soon.
Dear Ma, Dear Pa,
Times is hard in San Antone. With quarantine and all. The younglings continue their schooling. The younger two are back at the school house. The older two are progressing through virtual learning. My favorite class is 7th grade orchestra, when my child plays her violin or cello. Her teacher done gave her both!
I bought a new dress to help the mood here at home. It has a little puff in the sleeve, so I feel real purdy wearing it out to tend the lettuce farm. I like to think Anne of Green Gables would be keen on wearing such a fine frock.
Hope all’s well for you in Arizona, and the weather stays fine.
As much as I’ve learned how to conserve things like bleach and toilet paper, I’m on the fence about embracing the little house on the prairie clothing from Target.
Sure, it’s shapeless, paper thin, and 100% impractical for any household chore. But it DOES have pockets despite claims that it’s lacking said feature.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and be in the district with utility jumpers.
It’s been hard here at the homestead with the pandemic this winter. Each day I make my way into the outdoors and face the bitter chills that God has chosen to lay upon us so that I may tend to my chores and do for me and mine. The only thing that keeps mother at peace these days is to hear me play her a sweet rendition of Amazing Grace on ye old fiddle and on occasion Yankee Doodle if her spirits are well.
Each day I make my way to the barn to distribute the hay for the cows. Sadly, upon arriving to the barn today I discovered that all the cows had frozen to death and I had to resort to milking the basset hound for survival.
Let us not forget the children, for they did their chores and they did them well, so I chose to round up shown snowballs for today’s extracurricular activities. Lastly it was time for me to clear the land, for my lover’s wagon would surely arrive at any time. I shutter to think of his unsafe return.
When the day was done I retired to the loft where I put on my best attire, let my hair down and indulged in a drink for rest.
She must have texted my husband who then called and said I “done gone crazy.” (Like, of all the things I put you through THIS is the thing that made you declare I’ve gone crazy?) They were mean about it. It hurt my feelings. My daughter took a couple, but it wasn’t the fun photoshoot with cute pics I thought it would be. Here’s the two I got.
But, I complained to my book club and my friends said they’ll take the pics when they come over Monday.
Side note: my husband is a great guy and very supportive. He just doesn’t have the same idea of fun as I do. He’s not a farm person. He does it for me. My daughter, well, she’s just a teenager.
The year is 1821. Times are hard on the frontier. Fashion is worse.
Thank you Target for taking me back 200 years. I had way more fun than I should have.
“Drinking with Chickens,” it says. I turned to the 77th page and read the instructions for a red currant cocktail — what an intriguing combination of ingredients. Currants were not to be found in these parts, but I reckoned we had a jar of chokecherries that Paw had harvested over the summer and kept cool in the cellar with the potatoes. I’ve never had sparkling wine or champagne, but Maw did keep some cider water along with Gramps’ whiskey in the cupboard above the kitchen window, so those will have to do. I’ve also not heard of such vessels as flutes or coupes, but the book came with pictures, so I went ahead and fashioned a drinking vessel with a mason jar left over from canning and a broken candle holder from the attic. Now that’s a rather unusual libation, but it sure made my cold day with the chickens much more bearable today.
I tried to head over to the field to make some stew with a special blue flower with red thorns and remembered I’m color blind… I got to hollering and broke down crying .
Went back to the homestead and tried to collect some eggs from the coop to discover the chickens aren’t laying much because we can’t feed them .
Paw told me and the girl to bring the chickens in to slaughter but we are afraid because they are all we have left.
And also my chickens are not pets really, not like ones that wanna be held and petted lol. So it was humorous watching him when I came home and said “I need you to catch me a chicken!” We had SUCH a great time doing this.
The world needs MORE laughter and less sadness these days. Every bit helps.
I was told by a sweet friend about this and women & men have decided since Target started selling these old-timey dresses in the middle of the pandemic that if they are going to make us look like we just lost the farm after locusts ate our crops…. Then by all means…here ya go!
We can feel the cold weather coming and we’re worried he’s in danger.
Pa has walked uphill both ways with potatoes in his pockets to all the neighbors’ houses to ask if he could check their barns and horseless carriages without fear of trespassin’.
Ol’ Doc McCatFinder said most cats stay within 1/3 mile of their homes if they live inside like Boots. They could go as far as a mile if they’re used to going outside.
We’ve searched high and low because he coulda gotten so scared once he got outside he couldn’t go far. We check under bushes and then we check again.
Ol’ brother Jethro thinks the coyotes got him but I can’t give up. We just know Boots is still out there and we’ll never stop looking for him.
When pa returns, we’re hitching up the oxen and going straight to the general store to print flyers and look down to the animal shelter.
Boots was there for us through broken wagon axles, fording rivers and snake bites. He’s the best cat a family could ask for and we won’t give up.
I bought the Target prairie dress. Then I immediately wanted to spin some fiber. It’s hard to get a true prairie vibe going when Ring notifications are chiming on my Apple Watch, but I can try.