a poem by Annabelle Tarapor

What is fashion?
But a passion
To do ‘what is in or out?’
Everyone is out there,
Whether slim, smart or stout.

They wear just anything:
From a fish fin to a tiger skin,
A vegetable hat, a ponytail plait,
A waistcoat that is purple and blue
Orange hair ,jeans with a tear,
An earring pierced in the belly!
Do they honestly think that makes them mod?
I think they look, plain Silly!

To borrow an idea from someone else
And then to christen it ‘style’,
If only people realise the fact
That ‘fads’ only last a while…
Though it is fun to grow and follow the trend
To keep up the image and ‘look’;
But you must have the figure, the height and the vigour,
Along with a big bank book!
For, being ‘in fashion’ you need money…
So, think about it honey…
Have your own taste
Do not join ‘the race’
For, keeping the pace is not easy,
Instead be gracious, be confident and kind,
Let the fashions of the day, follow from behind

I don’t want to sound like a good ‘ol prude
My apologies to designers for being so rude,
At this point I must add, the thrill that I’ve had…
I’m in, Oh! such a playful mood!