Poetic License

The Age

Saturday May 24, 2008

Michi

Occasionally I read those semi-glossy mags and occasionally they have stories about women with enviable careers. I usually skip past the enviable careers to the enviable wardrobe section (because let's face it, who wouldn't want my job?). But one time I paused long enough to read a most fascinating job title. The title of Corporate Poet. The combination of "Corporate" (gets a steady income therefore buys a steady stream of new-season garb) and "Poet" (still a little wafty and artsy enough to be excused for being just a tad vague) made me weak with excitement. Imagine making a living from deciding whether a green dress should be Moss or Lichen, a hot-pink nail polish Edna or Chacma Baboon or a beige skirt Dull or Boring. Naming products seems like the easiest job in the world. Why, all I did was get drunk and stumble a little to come up with the name for this coat.

Merlot wool coat from Obus, 4/289 Flinders Lane, city 9662 1025.

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