1.
2.
3.

Coco: A Poem about Fashion by M.C. O’Connor

Why imitate

The Parisian primate.

Sport that old fedora.

Wear you mother’s mumu.

Sew your pillowcase

Into a skirt.

That curtain’ll make

A great gown.

Manolo Blahnik,

Jimmy Choo,

Hervé Leroux

To name a few.

But labels are for pickle jars.

Are pointy shoes still in.

Enormous leather totes

And leggings are all the rage.

You silly, silly monkeys

Always looking to upstage.

Fashionistas in search of faux pas.

I’m feeling a bit ennui.

This week it’s angora,

Next week it’s pashmina.

Designers on parade

In their political arena.

So wear your jeans

Until they’re torn

And save yourself some cash.

If it’s really what you like,

Why pay to look like trash.

As long as you’ve got

A good pair of shoes

Then cheers to you.

"The head monkey at Paris puts on a traveler’s cap, and all the monkeys in America do the same." - Henry David Thoreau

image

1.
2.
3.
1.
2.
3.
1.
2.
3.
1.
2.
3.
1.
2.
3.
1.
2.
3.
1.
2.
3.
1.
2.
3.
1.
2.
3.
1.