My mother, the fashionista

Fashion never really visited my mother,

or her wardrobe,

she despised the idea of following a

t r e n d,

to her that made you a sheep,

a label we were meant to dread,

my mother never bought new clothes,

like other mothers did,

to her that was a complete waste

of money,

so she made her own instead;

she would sit at her old machine,

unit the early morning hours,

obsessed with black material,

decorated with horrible gaudy flowers.


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