Fomo Fashion Poem by Mary Champion

‘Tis the urge of ev'ry human mind to shine,
and in that shining to become unique.
But, in constant opposition to this need,
the recognition of each human heart -
Humanity's a unity or nothing.
This conflict, twixt our struggle to belong,
to be welcome to the ‘in crowd's sacred space,
regardless of its merits or its aims,
the relentless restless narrative of reason
insisting on our singular identity,
means we are often slaves to wild new fashions
while aiming to be different to the crowd.
In thrall to this, the lure of herd mentality,
that often goes against our wiser judgement,
we trail behind the leaders of convention -
style setters and the founders of new fashion,
all spreading their good news of innovation
and making rules the meeker must obey.
Their often misplaced confidence can fool us
to see as cool charisma mere hot air,
that we the also rans cannot resist.
Our need to feel accepted overwhelms.
We cannot bear to be among the misfits,
the weirdos, Billy-no-mates and the rejects,
so mindlessly we modify our dress sense,
divert our thoughts and brainwash our beliefs,
disregard the voice of hard-won reason,
ignore our conscience and our common sense.
And fearfully we follow where the herd goes
behind the boss cow, or the alpha male.
This action maybe fine if we are certain
our chosen leader knows what they're about.
So often they excel at self-promotion,
with a woeful lack of substance over style.
Which is why all fashions fade out on the long run
as we fall victim to next mad fad -
some demagogue intent on world destruction
or fiendish footwear formed with hell in mind.