The T-Shirt killed fashion!
There’s not much more to say…
Butchered eccentricity.
Originality, did slay.

The T-shirt did kill fashion;
Heralding the clone,
Curiosities of dress,
Their loss, we do, bemoan.

There was a time when in garb.
Creativity roamed free,
The uniqueness of one’s wardrobe,
Signified a special “Me”!

The dynamic of developing,
Your identifying look,
Led by Artists and Designers,
No mere simplistics from a book.

It could have been
One-of-a-kind
Dior, Trigere or Yves,
But that fantasy, illusion,
Was what one did achieve.

It was couture feathers,
Street-finds – fluff or beads,
Entwined or tied together,
To “suit” our fun-filled needs.

It was that time,
Of joy and rhyme,
When special attire,
Was meant to inspire,
Light a romantic fire,
Lift one out of mire.

But the T-shirt just killed fashion,
Proclaiming its demise,
Anonymity, styleless-style,
Despite difference or size.

It brought a safe persona,
A bought blank, behind to hide,
A commercial for acceptance,
From all and every side.

The T-shirt did kill fashion,
Limiting frivolity,
Constricting,
Restricting,
Constraining what we see,
Our true potential to be.

So now that Fashion is
Lain to rest,
We can recall
It at its best.

Could a T-shirt kill our fashion,
I wonder what’s to blame,
Perhaps it was a “Commie” plot,
To make us all the same.