A regular Guardian poetry columnist has a Movember moment
["A fairly slim man, with clear-cut features and no hair upon his face except his eyebrows and eyelashes, can always wear with success any little thing that is out of the way." — The Observer's Fashions for Men Column.]
I am slim, and I have features that are clean and clearly cut,
And that do not run to whiskers or moustaches;
Hence it follows that, unbranded as a Bounder or a Nut,
I can cut some rather daring sorts of dashes.
I can stroll abroad, unnoticed, in a purple plush top-hat
And a morning coat in crimson lake or yellow —
And I think you must admit a combination such as that
Might look rather loud on any other fellow.
Now a pair of pink silk knickers make a man look overdressed
If he's stoutish and inclined to being bloated;
But, believe me, even coupled with a green and orange vest
On myself they somehow seem to pass unnoted.
So I go my way rejoicing, and invariably dress
With an eye to what in others would be glaring,
Thanking Heaven for a visage that can carry with success
"Any little thing" that wants a bit of wearing!
[Lucio was the pen name of Gordon Phillips, who submitted his first poem to the Manchester Guardian in 1910, aged 19. He became a reporter for the paper in 1912, was assistant editor from 1934 to 1940 and headed the Miscellany column, which included a weekly poetry slot, from 1919 until his sudden death in January 1952.]