dedicated follower of fashion

I was that little monkey spanner,
in my boots with yellow laces
and my trousers that stayed pressed,
a Ben Sherman in checker red,
with a black crombie coat with
tiny crimson hanky just peeking
out the top pocket..
we thought we were hard
but we were just fashion lasses
sneaking a drink of cider from
the beer off and dancing in
the Welfare to Motown and
Reggie..real reggie swaying
like Captain Pugwash on a mission,
doing the Wooley Bully  the way
they did it then..you have to be there
to know how it's done..oh the fun
we had, till the Miners went on strike
and pitch black no leccy..
by candlelight we still danced to
a wind up gramaphone..
in skin head gear..dancing to 
Bye Bye Miss American Pie..
not understanding a single word of it
drove my chevi to the levi but the levi was dry ?
thought they were Jeans you wore in 
the bath till they shrunk to your legs
and you still looked like a cowboy
hanging foot loose and fancy free..
those first jeans were crap man..
I gave mine away to my brother.
my sister bleached hers, but forgot
to stir the water, so they looked like
polka blobs..but she still wore them
too expensive to give a sod..
I was glad when The Midi came out
and we were all pyschedelic again
boots and long waistcoats and
flowery cheese cloth tops..
the jeans needed time to evolve
to the beast they have become..