fashion criticism

My favorite outfit of yours that you ever wore
was that cute schoolish skirt of reddish
plum-ish plaid with the jagged hem, together
with that black tee, with a picture of London
on the front,
done in white glitter
that you saw at Gottschalks
(back when it was Gottschalks),
loved immediately,
and put back.

So I snuck back later and got it
for you,

although - now that I think back, it
was more complicated than that. I didn't sneak
back. I went back on your explicit instruction,
coordinated via telephone, as you tried to get them
to put it on your credit card
(because we must have been
fighting or something). So
instead of me just buying it,
we had this tricky point of principle
for the sales clerk to deal with.
You were in Los Angeles, and it
was an emergency.

You had decided you needed that shirt.

After all,
I don't think it worked
out quite like we tried, but it did work
out. You wore it to that party
in someone's tiny little bungalow home.
Everyone there had a pretty fun pose,
was self-amused, or just archly superior
- whether sticking out by fitting in,
or the reverse. They worked it! It worked. It
was a well put-together party. There was
an Anarchist there! Which is what I mean:
this party was well and intelligently planned.
They had an Anarchist. Man, that dude
loved what I had to say about Anarchy. Crazy,
because we pretty much disagreed,
but the main thing I remember is:

You looked as cute as can be. I think you were
telling people I picked the outfit out -
which could explain why that anarchist
was hitting on me.

Anyway: that skirt, the shirt,
and those cute boots, too - it was surely
somebody's style, and
you sure made it
you