Generations

She remembers, when she was young,
her time her mother bustling her off to
the distant home of an acquaintance
whose house seemed so unlike the sparse
rooms her parents rented. A girl was
there, older, aloof, whose cast-offs
would be hers. Not, as they say now, gently
used, but yet serviceable without the
undeniable charms of newness.

She recalls hobbling to school in vulgar,
broken footwear, for that was all she had.
She remembers the flush of shame and
the furtive, envious glances at the attire of
her classmates, and dreaming of the luxury
of "new", and first-owned and personal choice.

As a young mother with economic restraints
she clad her children carefully as their
budget permitted. Making certain they
would feel no hesitation of inferiority in their
social atmosphere. Where she, living in poverty
made no complaints, her children were given
to matching their peers' tastes and selections
and she was introduced to the quaint
terminology and reality of peer pressure.

With her grandchild now aged as she was
herself at the advent of her first factory job at
thirteen, nothing is denied. She is aghast at
the casual, thoughtless entitlements. Yet,
money no longer scarce, the girl's every desire
is promptly fulfilled. New name-brand
garments, for the others, not yet outgrown
are simply "ugly". New cell phone for the other
is "chipped" and no longer desirable; not in
style, nor reflective of the latest technology.

As for her, she assembles her wardrobe
now she can afford anything she desires
finally, at second-hand shops where the
fashion cognoscenti knowingly converge.