The engine roared as Ruby McKenna, our Denim & Diamonds queen, found herself in an unlikely predicament. Her best friend, Gertrude – bless her Woody Allen glasses and rusted beatnik spirit – stubbornly insisted on driving her 1972 Volkswagen Bug all the way from their little hometown to the Country Music Awards in Nashville.

Despite her misgivings, Ruby climbed into the autumn orange Beetle, her denim-clad legs incompatible with the compact car’s leg space. Sat beside Gertrude, she sparkled like a cowboy’s dream, her diamonds throwing a mini party against the setting sun.

“We’re shattering stereotypes,” Gertrude waxed philosophical, whizzing past the ‘Leaving Stillwater, Y’all Come Back!’ sign. “Two women driving cross-country, like in Thelma and Louise.”

“Just without the ending, Trudy,” Ruby responded, ruffling her rodeo queen hair.

Given that half of Gertrude’s possessions were piled up in the backseat, Ruby started to question the difference between a road trip and being homeless. Every stop they made, Ruby would sashay into roadside stalls and diners, her denim-clad butt attracting more attention than the neon menu boards. Initially, she found herself missing her horses and the wide, open sky. But soon, she succumbed to the joys of slushies and vending machine coffee.

The first-night ATM pitstop was memorable for the raccoon who danced a merry jig with Ruby’s diamond bracelet. She convinced Gertrude not to run the poor thing over in revenge. There was also the roadside diner brunch where she discovered ‘grits’ was not short for ‘gritties,’ much to Gertrude’s amusement.

Despite the cramped car rides and questionable food choices, Ruby quickly became enchanted by the simplicity and unpredictability of their journey. She delighted in the little quirks each state had to offer and enjoyed naming the shaggy cows grazing by the roadside. Not once did she complain about the lack of five-star accommodations or room service.

As they pushed on into the night, the barren land around them bathed in the glow of the moon and Ruby’s diamond-esque eyes. She realised that this trip was rekindling the same spirit that had once prompted her to take on the ‘Denim & Diamonds’ persona. She was everything she claimed to be. A diamond studded denim-clad symbol of courage, humility and adaptability, with a heart that yearned for a blend of the simple and the extraordinary.

In those moments, under the vast expanse of starlit sky and to the backdrop of Gertrude’s off-key rendition of Patsy Cline’s ‘Walkin’ After Midnight,’ Ruby couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty and spontaneity of their journey. Every mile, every diner, every lost raccoon brought them one step closer to their destination.

The closer they drove towards Nashville, the more Ruby anticipated the limelight, the glamour, the music. But a part of her already missed the intimacy of the Beetle, the spontaneity of the road and the amusing companionship of her bespectacled friend.

On the dawn they rolled into Music City, Ruby looked at her reflection in the car mirror. The woman staring back at her was different; the diamonds shone a little brighter, and the denim seemed a little more rugged. A certain level of gratification plastered over her sun-kissed face.

She stepped out of the Beetle, stretching her limbs and adjusting her denim jacket. Music echoed from Nashville’s honky tonks, filling the air with life and rhythm. The blissful feeling of being right where she belonged washed over Ruby. Embracing her friend, she whispered, “I’m a round peg in a round hole, Trudy. Let’s see what this old town’s got for us.”

And so, the Denim & Diamonds Duo strolled into the heart of Nashville, ready for whatever adventure lay ahead.