Fashion Victim – Poetry

The A to Zs of Fashion Victims, from Auctions, Bimbo, Catwalk, to Editor, to Journalist, to Logos, Model, Photographer…..and more… all of them described in poetry.

Here’s my favourite, D for Designer, from the book Fashion Victims by Michael Roberts:

At six years old I dressed a doll in ribbons, lace, and flowers

My father said he wished me dead and made me take cold showers.


At twelve I took my mother off to buy the spring collections

Oh, what a waste of style and taste – she hated my selections.


At twenty-one, with childhood done, I studied hard at fashion

I sewed quite well, but truth to tell, fame was my guiding passion.

I learned to pose in outre clothes and clubbed till early morning

I slept in class, they kicked my ass – and threw me out for yawning.


I changed my name at twenty-five, became a good assistant

I worked all night, was bright, polite, and never too persistent.

I so disarmed with boyish charm, my hair as soft as sable

A hedge honcho came along and offered me a label!


At thirty-five, I felt alive, no one could stop me rising

They said my clothes were “quelque chose,” “amusing”, “smart”, “surprising.”


At forty-nine, my second line was priced at several billion

I lived in castles on the Rhine, my drug bills came to millions.

I wore a wig and Quaker shoes-my own unique aesthetic-

And never hear my workers say, “He’s looking quite pathetic.”


At sixty-one (which I’ll remain for the longest time),

I fear the days are running out, but onward still I climb.

I diet, train, have sex again – I’ve scored some hunky catches.

But when I go, I’ll go alone, with doll’s and daddy’s ashes.

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About @juliadrums

Song-writer. Drummer. Poet. Music maker. Communications Strategist.

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