Fashionistas

Fashion is a way to keep us poor;
Its acolytes will posture like a hure;
They'll take us for a sucker,
And kick us in the gutter,
After we've given our money like some fool;
Over our eyes is where they put the wool.

If our clothing doesn't bear a famous name,
We're supposed to shudder with a burning shame;
We're really not possessed of any cool,
Unless we fork out money like a fool,
And pay five times the value of our stuff.
Even that is really not enough.

There's no limit to their greed,
As they try to use our need
To be someone who really, really counts.
So they con us out of very large amounts,
For things that are in fact a bunch of junk.
To them we're just a naive kind of punk.

They're not just bent they're twisted,
As well as being tight-fisted;
So why not sell us something that is trash,
And ask for very large amounts of cash?
We'll pay so long's it bears a well-known name,
Of someone who's achieved some kind of fame.