Party Ties
(Ties are advertised in red or blue bearing a portrait of Mr. Alike or Mr. Churchill) WHEN our fathers fought elections, their political connections Were apparent from the favours they displayed.
You could classify a fellow by his red rosette or yellow, Or the angle of his coachman's blue cockade.
Nowadays not only ribbon and the colours of the gibbon Tell the world which side will get the voter's voice: There are ties with leaders' faces, there are party-coloured braces— But myself I haven't made a final choice.
There's an Attlee at the bottom of my necktie, But a bright canary waistcoat hides the face: To set off the red cravat I've a Mr. Eden hat, And my socks are grey and neutral, just in case.
There's no need for me to grovel, or excuse as something novel This adoption of a sumptuary code.
In some sectors of society sartorial propriety Is as rigid as the Ancient Britons' woad.
Here the cloth-cap is de rigueur, there the fashionable figure Is a social symbol, banner, badge and sign: Have you thought why lovely women suffer bantin', lacin', slimmin' ?
They're conforming to the cocktail-party line.
There's an Attlee at the basis of my necktie ; There's a primrose boutonniere stuck in my coat ; There's a Liberal manifest-o tattooed upon my chest ; I'm correct whichever party has my vote.
Some (I trust you don't resemble 'em) may imagine there's an In my smoking, Winston-wise, a large cigar, [emblem But this horizontal skylon is to give me calm to smile on Others' quarrels like a watcher from afar. Thus eschewing party passion in my independent fashion, And regarding all alike as friends—or foes— I display, a floating voter who'd avoid a voting floater, Socks subdued, a hat subfuse, a tie subrose.
There's an Attlee underneath my fancy waistcoat: Will those lineaments emerge in triumph thence ? One can only poll and guess ; in the meantime I possess All the colours, and I've nailed them to the fence.
JOHN PETRIE.
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