Fashion Crisis

Walking down the street
You see those girlies in the heat
The Bais Yaakov maidels
Looking so aidel
But beneath the black and dark
Is something sinister-hark!
It’s the desire to wear color and fun
But sadly we gotta blend in with everyone!

We try with flair

To do our hair

As different as the rest

And see who can do it best

The highest bump clipped

Or the neatest bangs snipped

We tell ourselves to be different, for sure!

But if we do, would we cause too much allure?

I'll wear color one day

But I am scared to be sent away

Out of my close knit circle of black clad friends

Whose rules for apparel, never seem to bend

The same flairy skirt, or pencil style

That has been "in fashion" for a while

Or the black Junee tops with bows

Yea, one day I'll own one of those

But do I want to be

Just like everyone I see?

In the same drab

That seems so fab

Yet it falls flat

When I think of that

Becoming my life fashion choices

Dictated by the silent style voices

They think they know me inside and out

But who I am REALLY, they know nothing about

That I can't be defined or diminished by black

And I'll do my best to use that missing color to elaborate what I lack

What it cuts off in style and creativity

I'll make up in talent and personality

So fashion dictators of the world, I pray tell

Why do you dress me and pretend to know me so well?