Everything Old is New Again
To dress passé? A fashion sin,
yet everything old is new again.
So if your dress length’s out of date,
all you have to do is wait.
In twenty years, you’ll be in vogue,
in what last year marked you a rogue.
Who dictates fashion is beyond me,
as are those who wait to see
whether ankle, thigh or knee
is where a garment’s end should be
and whether cowl or boat or vee
is the right neckline for a tee
they tuck into their faded jeans—
now ripped and shredded like dumpster queens.
Following fashion’s every word?
I fear I find it most absurd.
I want the knees left in my jeans,
my butt well-covered, by all means.
What clothes you wear should be your passion,
not merely what’s okayed by fashion.
There should be no laws or rules
regarding clothes or hats or jewels
except what shows us who you are.
Each woman her own runway star.
Living up to its title, this poem is a rewrite of an earlier post. The prompt today was fashionable.