A pink striped sailors suit,
gingham dirndl, a dogtooth coat –
even once, a denim bikini.
So many outfits there’ve been
my progress mapped and measured
in cool, smooth tailor's chalk,
until the day I stood fidgeting
in paisley needlecord, all shades of red
my mother pinning me at the hemline:
stay still, stay still why don’t you
Realising that although the dress was perfect,
I no longer fit.