How We Dress

 
 
 Fictive Fingers Fibril Kimono Linen Wrap

It makes no sense

The wardrobe stood ajar

Packed with colours and prints, so dense

Yet here you are hoping to make a decision

Without this daily dose of unnerving sensation

 

It makes sense

The wardrobe stood ajar

Only to be filled with who you really are - no pretence

Picking and matching becomes intuitive

Wearing what you care about, what you believe

 

We’re more in common than what divides us

How we dress is how we paint a picture of ourselves

What we want in our lives, how we feel

Not just anything we can get at a steal

 

We live with the fabric that touches our skin daily

Ruminate how you handpick them - no hurry

Because haste only adds to the pile

Of the overproduced and out-of-style