50 Shades of Corduroy

50 Shades of Corduroy
by Ben Macnair
You no longer think that nasal hair is unslightly,
You grow sick of Keira Knightley,
You think that Countdown peaked with Carol Vorderman,
and Richard Whitely.
Just as you think your life is bereft of Joy,
You remember that there are fifty shades of Corduroy.
You don’t care for e-numbers, e-by-gum or e-books,
You think that a bald patch suits your looks,
You had your heart-throbs,
this generation can keep their Kelly Brooks.
Just as you think your life is bereft of Joy,
You remember that there are fifty shades of Corduroy.
Black for the man about town.
Brown for the Sociology lecturer.
Red for the TV antiques expert.
Yellow for the flamboyant.
Blue for the undecided.
Green for Vegans.
Grey for the sport’s fan.
Purple for the Golfer.
You are too old for Jeans,
too young for slacks,
you are at the stage of inbetween,
of hairy ears,
but not hairy backs.
Your crave comfort,
a car that won’t go to great speed,
Steadiness is what you need.
Just as you think your life is bereft of Joy,
You remember that there are fifty shades of Corduroy.
The kids might laugh,
You friends will see it as mid-life crisis for a skinflint,
But in terms of stature, a good pair of Corduroy’s are worth a mint.
When it comes to fashion, their worth is unspoken,
So after you have tried a few,
Gone down a fashion-cul-de-sac,
And you think your life is bereft of joy,
You feel lucky that you still have forty two shades of Corduroy.