Slave to Fashion


It was assumed that the ‘fair sex’
Would mince, and not stride
In rich, ‘nobler’ families
There’s no walking, just ride
So they bound up her feet
Constricting, reforming
Securing power through marriage
To fashion conforming

Today we scorn that old practice
And tisk-tisk that foot binding
For nowhere today
Would we consider the finding
Of deformed, twisted insteps
All crippled and painful
As anything other than
Degrading and shameful

Hold on just a minute
Let’s rethink all of this
Today’s perfect ensemble
Would be given a ‘miss’
Without Prada, or Gucci
It’s just not complete
Unless perfectly perched
With Vuitton on her feet

We totter and wobble
In six-inch long spikes
Pinching toes into size five
When size eight was just right
We cramp up all those tootsies
So the world can all see
That ‘fashion sense’ overpowers
‘Good sense’, easily

Thus, fashion defines beauty
And beauty, my friend
Comes with bunions and toes
That both hammer and bend
Our accession to fashion
Now dictates our pain
Our firm-held delusion
Is 5th Avenue’s gain

Stride on girls…never mince, not matter what fashion tells you…


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