Some snob passes you in the street and gives you a stare to melt a million egos
You stare back with a counterattack only to find that they’ve already gone though
He’s whisked himself off somewhere full of flawless fashionable fashionistas
With mountains high of perfect hair and teeth and blazers fitting perfect everywhere
So slim so skinny
Gorgeous cheekbones designer stubble never fumble awkwardly
Not like you
And so thin!
It’s no wonder that you don’t fit in
You’re not America’s next top model
You’re never even been there!
But you still twist through the magazines with hands so fretful and so veiny
Desperately straining something more trendy and some extra special glossy product (Tressume!) for your hair
It’s not about individuality
You just want to win!
You want to be like them and saunter back and forth across the fields so thick with famous titles, fashion bibles, celebrities, big birthday bachelors, and photo captured fake frivolity
You want to be like them but you know that it’s all crap
A facelift can’t make you happy, it didn’t work for Donatella Versace
And Joan Rivers is looking pretty nasty
But it’s not about that!
You know that it’s all appearance, there’s nothing else set way to claim,
It’s all about the look, you know, it’s all about the way you walk down Oxford Street or NYC or in your track pants, sunglasses plastered on your face harassed by paparazzi on a plane
In post lipo puckered pain
But YOU’VE GOT SWAGGER
You’re looking fiercer than the Chanel love baby of Tyra Banks and a young Mick Jagger
It’s all about achieving that one memorable effect
A kind of facebook fame that no body can ever forget
You don’t want to be bereft, bundled up and left behind
‘Cos the image keeps on moving
Come on! Transform! You’re so uncool. You’ve got no trendy time!
So dance the dance and take that chance that’s really nothing new
Obsess about the comments, that bad angle, strangled point of view
Untangle somewhere down the line, or catwalk of your own design
It’s not all about the image, yeah?
When that guy stares you out and pulls you down in town
Don’t listen to him
He can’t fix you up like a mirror with a mocking frown
You’re not him
It’s not about those collagen clad smiles spitting out at you in sickly stubborn stares that bare no real relation unless we’re really splitting split-ended hairs
It’s cheesy, and you’ve heard it all before, you’ve tried
The only way to really WOW
Is to dress the little you inside