Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

poem- not conservative, just not living August 29, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:19 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Outside the change room,

she looked into the mirror.

Lovely,

polished,

dynamic,

and classy

in the pale blue duster jacket.

Perfectly suited her colouring.

Stunning.

“I love this,” she sighs.

“I love these on other people.  I just know that I would never wear it.”

I am aghast. “You could wear it to the grocery store!”  She could wear it anywhere.

But no.  She left in an orange dress,  that made her complexion blotchy.

I have no business being sad, that she put away a pale, blue jacket, that suited her,

because of fears I’m imagining for her.

“Do you imagine I’m conservative?” she asks.

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” I shrug.

But she looked damn fantastic in that blue duster jacket.

 

poem- me then October 29, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:50 am
Tags: , , , , ,

In the mirror

the shape is me then

and the then clothes still hang in the closet

for me now to wear.

In the mirror

me now studies the style of me then

likes the posture improving shoulder pads

and ponders the difference between

retro-style

and

outdated.

 

 

poem- swing February 17, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:37 am
Tags: , , , , ,

So why does a kilt catch all the girls’ eyes?

The risk that men run and what she might spy,

Should breeze catch a pleat and lift to the sky?

No, what catches the eye and makes hearts sing,

what makes her desire her own highland fling

is the lad’s stance and the way that kilt swings!

A man in a kilt breathes confidence, aye?

So don that kilt, laddie, make the girls sigh

when you swing those pleats as you saunter by!

.

.

A little rhyming for you today.  😉

“It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing, doo wah doo wah, doo wah doo wah!”

 

What’s the point of fashion, anyway? October 13, 2012

Fashion matters because every day people get up in the morning and, with the palette of clothes they find in their closets and dressers, they attempt to create a visual poem about a part of themselves they wish to share with the world. 

J.J. Lee.  Measure of a Man. p. 53

I was raised by a mother who loved fashion and filled her basement with fabric, patterns and notions.  She crafted beautiful garments, and rarely threw anything out.  Which meant when we moved her from Kelowna here to Salmon Arm, we moved eight closets full of her clothes, and a hundred or so pairs of shoes.  It also meant that Vogue magazine was a staple in our house, and that I grew up with a keen eye on clothes.

J. J. Lee wrote his biography of his father within the context of his time as an apprentice tailor.  His father’s suit provided an exploration of the suit as symbol and metaphor in his own life, but also in the life of all men.  Clothing makes the man, and he was trying to figure out the man the clothing made.

I love his expression of fashion as a visual poem.  It’s very accurate.  Our clothes give the message we wish to send to the world on any particular day.  Whether it’s laid back casual with jeans and a Tshirt or cute and quirky with a hat, bright tunic and leggings, we say something about ourselves.  But we don’t wear the same thing every day, just as we wouldn’t write the same poem every day.

Every day we adorn ourselves to be a visual poem.

I like that.

 

 
%d bloggers like this: