Thin is in, thin is in
Bodies like paper, thin as fin
Thin as pencil, anemic skin
Portfolio of ribs, crying within
Thin is sin, Lady in size zero
Extra extra small, she is our hero
Skinny, emaciated, walks in a bolero
Anorexic fingers, she counts her dinero
Little dainty girls what do they know?
Ain't their fault, they want to glow
Models, they are just on the show
Wearing wedding gowns that flow.
Bowl of fruits to plum the lips
Longing for tasty fish and chips
Bowl of nothing to slim the hips
The show is killing them, tidy tips
Anemic profile, not thin by nature
Tired smiles, scrawny by nurture
Bag of bones are our fashion future
Room full of applause, shame on our culture
Designers and mothers looking for fame,
Playing with little girl's psyche, so lame
Barbie dolls don't faint they always claim
Dropping dead in designer clothes, what a shame!
A lady with curves can't she hold the lamp?
Can't a voluptuous woman be our champ?
Don't they have smiles with a million amp?
Oh why? Don't healthy curves fit the ramp?
London fashion week refuses to ban ultra-thin models...
Dedicated to all the young models who died trying to get into the
designer clothes..) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem