matisse self-portrait (1906)

In the third grade everyone had those shirts.

Navy blue and white horizontal stripes,

running parallel throughout the cafeteria.  

How unflattering they were!

Placing emphasis on each roll of baby fat.


And look at you.

Your seemingly nonchalant facial expression,

denoting a certain untouchable air.

As if you knew that come 1996 

everyone would aim to dress like you.

That the Gap would make your look an icon.  

Yet you remain separate, 

by means of a few red stripes.