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a poem by by Elizabeth Sheppard I am searching for a fashion thats attractive but elusive in a fashion thats unquestionably strange, for the fashion that Im seekings like a clock forever ticking past the past, into the future of my brain. Its an existential puzzle that produces fearful muddles, guaranteed to drive devotees quite insane, for soon after I discover my fashionable cover, I find that current fashion has changed. Since Im doomed to be unfashioned, and reduced to clothing rations by the ever-moving march of rag trade fame, Ill undo my fashion thinking (I can hear those dollars clinking!); and upgrade my OpShop Fashion Exchange!