Every time Goldilocks went out, the townspeople gasped at what she was wearing. Stripes mixed with flowers. Knee length socks under boots. The townspeople could not believe the atrocities against fashion which Goldilocks was committing. They tried to drop hints to her, left copies of Cleo and Cosmo under her doorway while she was out, but it was to no avail. Goldilocks continued to wear short skirts over denim overalls and green stockings with orange shoes.
Finally the people could take no more. They organised a town meeting to discuss the situation.
“This cannot go on,” cried the mayor. “We can’t let her continue flaunting the rules of fashion while we try to go about our daily business.”
The rest of the townspeople all agreed, but no one could come up with a plan of action. They all loved Goldilocks too much and didn’t want to offend her.
Then one man stepped forward. A small man, dressed all in black, that nobody had ever seen before. He stood up on the podium and said, “what we need to do is call in the fashion police.”
“Who are the fashion police?” asked the townspeople eagerly.
“The fashion police enforce the rules of fashion,” replied the man. “If they ever see anyone breaking those rules, they put them up against the wall and shoot them.”
At first, the townspeople were somewhat dismayed by this. Without Goldilocks, who would be there to help them rebuild their homes when the cold winter winds blew them over? And who would give food to the orphans when there was no one else to provide for them? But the man said there was no other alternative.
“Think of the effect she must be having on your children,” he insisted. “How would you feel if they all began to dress like her?”
The townspeople knew he was right. Without any delay, they called in the fashion police. Goldilocks was tried, convicted of crimes against fashion, and shot, all in the same afternoon.
Now things are very different in that little town. Whenever it rains, nobody will let you share their umbrella. And if you’ve done too much shopping, you’ll just have to carry those bags home yourself. But these seem like a small price to pay. Because since the fashion police came to town, nobody has ever been out of fashion again.
Note: I wrote this story for a short story class after sitting in a train listening to a group of girls criticising the clothes other travellers were wearing. Some of the quotes were taken direct.
Posted by Jonathan Gould and tagged as