I flounced off in a flurry of fur and feathers,
pink pumps prancing down laminated lanes,
classic cuts leaving me cold, calculated curves
falling over flesh-fuelled failures.

Too late, I learned that girlish pleasures can’t compare
with charm and chic made perfect in the understated
fashion statement. I left a loser, alone
with my naïve approximations. I learned my lesson,

and so I came home a woman, starving
in the affluence of style.