It started with ankles, then knees, then thighs,
A modest approach, where fabric complied.
Long sleeves, long skirts, and hems to the floor,
Clothing had purpose—what else could it be for?

Then slowly, the hemlines crept up the legs,
Skirts turned to shorts, but who’s counting the dregs?
Sleeves shrank to straps, collars lost their place,
And fashion just kept up the rapid pace.

The waistline dropped, the cuts got more daring,
Backs, shoulders, and sides—nothing left for sparing.
Tops got shorter, skirts didn’t exist,
The more we revealed, the more we missed.

And then the dressmakers said, “Now what?”
Just how much less could we possibly plot?