A lion’s mane would’ve been permed,
zebra would be all white,
spotted leopard would’ve been spotless,
an orangutan would have blonde hair,
an elephant’s tusk would’ve been whiter,
rhinoceros would’ve had smooth skin,
hippos would’ve been skinny,
raccoons wouldn’t have had dark circles.
Need I go on?

I first saw my grandma knitting when I was five. 
Wool yarn flowing through her fingers, 
As if it was a fairy tale by the brothers Grimm.
Magic was happening, giving birth to another 
sweater, or another scarf, or a dress I was probably going to wear. 

 I first saw a fashion magazine at the age of eight. 
It was full of clothes, full of bright, extravagant colours, 
I was amazed by this variety of art it kept inside,
a little girl facing her nature, her passion, her desire. 

 I was twelve when I first visited Germany &
realised that fashion had never been this far from people. 
Oaf boots and cerulean sweaters I was seeing everywhere
As a complete outsider, an offspring of another world. 

It was years after that I understood. 
Clothes are what we see & beauty is what we cherish,
But, if it is filth that you carry on the inside, 
It can never be covered by a little black dress.

Tipton Poetry Journal
July, 2019