Sunday, February 12, 2012


So my penpal in Scotland shared a picture and a poem with me. The picture is her dress form. The poem, one her mother made up for her dress form, who was lovingly called "Fifi". I LOVED it and wanted to share it!


I'm a dressmaker's dummy who's seen better days.
Why?, I can remember when I wore silken stays.
I then was very smart and sofine,
But have since 'ad parasites in my spine.
My name is Fifi 'cos I am French, you see
I  'ave mixed withthe best in Society.

When elite fashion salons showed
Dress designs of the latest mode,
They were adjusted on my slender figure
 And pinned to shorten or make bigger.
The fabrics were o glowrious hues
Of reds and pinks or various blues.

Drapes were carefully placed on me
By Miss Evangeline or Miss Bea.
I loved to wear each new creation
And be gazed upon with admiration.
Alas! Those wondrous day were fading
When "The House of Elliot" ceased trading.

My social life took quite a flop
When I was sold to an antique shop.
Placed amonst the memorabilia
Public gaze now seemed much chillier.
I seemed not wanted anymore,
And languished there inside that store.

One day, a lady passing by
Was 'eard to give a joyful cry,
"A dummy stand is what I need
To make my dressmaking succeed!"
She purchased me right then and there
And took me to a place elsewhere.

Although I was not richly gowned,
A different life style there I found,
As my new owner indulged in pleasure
Of wielding scissorsand tape-measure.
It gave me back my self-esteem,
Helping that dressmaker to seam.

Then came a terrible situation-
My mistress went into liquidation.
It was not the market that brought 'er down,
Pipes burst one night and she did drown.
I was cast up on the tide,
And left to stand in the cold outside.

A rag and bone dealer who had a kind heart
Gave me a ride in his rickety cart.
Then 'e sold me to the corner shop,
Where I was fated there to stop.
I was left in a bakehouse, dark and drear,
And where I stood for many a year.

Then, just when I thought all hope 'ad gone,
I was sold for a 'fiver' and so I moved on.
Again, I was used to model a dress-
Not up to my standard, but nevertheless
I was quite 'appy until the day
My mistress upped and moved away.

This time, I was put in a plastic sack
And laid in attic upon my back.
The years rolled by....Oh!  Misery me!
My spine 'ad an itch, but it was no flea!
A boring woodworm had traced me down,
And inside my backbone it set up a town.

After a long tim someone raised the trapdoor,
And a head appeared thro' the attic floor.
A very kind gentleman carried me down
Ad stood me upright on the ground.
A lady said, "Fifi will be in a position
To model a costume at our exhibition."

So I was dismembered, dusted and polished,
My woodworm was spotte - it will soon be deomolished.
Next, I was transported in Dottie's car
To Cyrprus Road Hall, it was not very far.
I grew quite excited and wondered with glee
What sort of costume they would put on me.

But days went by.... Nobody came--
I stood in a corner. Oh! What a shame!
It really made me feel quite ill
When I heard the folk from Abbeville
Speaking my native French,
And me-- in a sack behind the bench.

I was afraid hey might peep in to see
The plight that 'ad befallen me.
I used to be so very chic.
Ooh! La! La! I felt quite weak.
  I held my breath in trepidation,
But the French were on a town-twinning vacation.

New 'ope has now come from the museum man,
Who said, "I will help out if I can".
"If historical costumes we can obtain,
Fifi will be able to model again."
Then loaned to The Heritage Centre I will be
'Appy, to be gazed at admiringly.

Long years 'ave passed I 'ad to wait
And wonder what would be my fate,
For no museum did I see.
They said there was no place for me,
After they'd raised my 'opes so hight,
"Mon Dieu" I wished that I could die.

In the garage I was put
In plastic sacks from 'ead to foot.
There I thought I must remain
But I am on the move again,
Vicky 'as come nd rescued me,
She cried "Oh Goody! 'eres Fifi,
Now that I 'ave much more room
I'll take you with me to Loch Broom".

I was polished and dusted in a 'urry
And soon was on my way to Surrey.
'Er two good buddies Mike and Will
Said "You can stay with us until
To Ullapool we do repair
Then Fifi we will take you there"

So 'opefully I'll end my days
Up in my 'ome upon the Braes.
I  'ad news that will amaze,
My mistress saw and advertisement
A model wanted for a Grand Event
To model at an exhibition
At last I've gained my true position.

She contacted them that very day
And I was 'ired without delay.
So to Achiltabui I am bound
Where I will be richley gowned,
In a Victorian dress from days of yore,
Such fashions I 'ave worn before,
And everyone will praise Fifi,
My mistress will be proud of me.

After all my trials and tribulation
I 'ave reached my proper station.
As elegant as in days gone by
When I caught everbody's eye,
So now I can forget my past
For Fifi 'as arrived atlast.

With my mistress Vicky on the Braes.
She'll model all 'er clothes on me,
La! La! I 'appy as can be.
So let the bag pipes, al resound
For Fifi's to the Highlands bound.

(Fifi's last adventure)
After years of Trial and Tribulation
Atlast I reached my poper station,
With my mistress on the Braes
Here I hope to end my days.

After the Achiltabui Exhibition
I became a Lady of high position.
One day my mistress said with pride,
"You've been asked to model for a bride"
So I was taken in a car
To a lady's house it wasn't far.

The bridal gown as put on me
In case adjustments there should be,
So there was I in a wedding dress
I felt so porud as you may guess.
Teh lady gazed at me with pride
Then said "Oh! What a lovely bride,
Fifi, you have sone so well."
Then an awful thing befell.

As they went to take me home again
In my back, I felt an awful pain.
And they became most agitated,
When they found that my spine had disentigrated.
The woodoworm had dwelt there of yore,
Many many years before.
And they had weakened it you see
Ooh! La! La! Oh poor old me.

The lady said "Fifi don't worry
We'll get you mended in a hurry.
Because I know the very man
Who will help you if he can."
So she called him straight away
And took me there that very day.
And he made me another spine
And I'm glad to say I'm feeling fine.

Now the church he goes to decree that
Every lady should wear a hat,
They said to me you can't come in,
Without a hat t'would be a sin
So now I have returned back home
Never more again to roam.


Made by Lena