balding middle-aged men
with grey pony-tails
women regardless of age
in Levi-style
blue denim jackets
all craving a-sexual Crocs
some still wear their
usually floral frocks
over their jeans
though thick black tights
have somewhat displaced
the FOJ wearers
mobiles in the back pockets
of everybody’s Levis
(how can they afford Levis?
I’m given to wonder)
and always turned-up bottoms
including second-hand mine
too long and a touch wide
at the waist
given as a present
gratefully received
T-shirts with tour itineraries
printed on the back
Led Zep Grateful Dead et al.
no Oasis though
not arty enough for this society
topknots and baseball caps
regardless of sex
no tweed caps like
my grandad wore
down his allotment
only one duffel bag seen
only one duffel jacket
would-be avant garde-ists
of either sex
in basketball boots
which have to be Converse
mens’ shirts worn with top button
or two undone
not a tie in sight
apart from mine
the occasional bandana
and colourful hankie
some men (see ‘grey pony tails’)
prone to parade
in wide-brim hats
like John Wayne Westerns
sun glasses regardless of sun
worn on top of the head
my mum and my aunts
all started out as machinists
in the East End Rag Trade
one – maybe mum
even worked in Fashion Street
I knew about fashion
from an early age
no wonder why
I briefly married
a fashion designer
who briefly beautifully made
my beautiful clothes
the only time in my life
I’ve been a la mode
now my schmutter is
begged borrowed or found
it don’t fit the fashion
of this café society
but I’m truly fond
of its passing show
it’s not changed much
in twenty-five years
and not much now
from Summer to Winter
global warming is making
seasonal fashion so passé
Liz used to say
there’s nothing new in fashion
what goes down
comes back around
those T-shirts though freeze fashion
and maybe they have
a different tale to tell
is that my satori
as I provincially wonder
‘what’s the story morning glory’*
Jeff Cloves
*Oasis song you unbelievers
.