They’ve been around a while.
Ever since we became self-conscious
Back when we left the Garden, blushing.
Those weren’t bought off-the-rack and
Neither were they particularly haute or haughty –
After all, everyone was wearing the same thing.
But things have since evolved and today is
Where we’re at – or, more punitively, wear we’re at.
A tale of high fashion and higher reality
(Would someone who spins such a tale be a tailor?):
Holy priests wearing holy clothing,
The needle of earth perpetuating the thread of heaven:
Stitch by stitch, bit by bit, it moves along.
No pinpricks here nor a tear on a cheek or sleeve: nothing
That can’t be mended and made complete.
Sowing much more than just a garment
Much more than a simple cloth –
Sowing a soul, a dream, a promise.
Some wear clothing; others, clothing wears them
Not these: you wear them up and they wear you
Up, bring you up, shake you up and stand you up.
Garment districts and garment bags?
Not here – these are way beyond such hangers and hang-ups.
These are tailor-made to fit the contour of soul just as much
As the contour of body.
A High Priest, a conduit of love and peace, dressed to will,
To will humanity to perfection; loving peace and pursuing peace.
Does clothing make the man or man the clothing?
In this Holy Temple, the clothing makes the man divine
And the man makes the clothing divine.
One might say this is the greatest fashion statement of all.
White and gold, blue and scarlet, fine twined linen
The color and texture of a priestly blessing.
Couture and culture, fad then fade:
Like a sleeve turned inside-out most fashions move in and out
But these are permanent, designed by the ultimate designer
Manufactured in the omnipotent factory
Worn but never worn out.
And there are stones:
Gems priceless in spirit
Invaluable in holiness
Shining with truth; gleaming with the Divine
Cut with true precision.
And you shall command the children of Israel
That they shall take for you pure olive oil
Crushed for the light-source
To kindle the lamp continually.
How else does one dress to light
A world, a soul, a menorah
If not in high fashion?
Mendel Jacobson is a writer, poet and journalist living in Brooklyn. His weekly poetry can be seen at jakeyology.blogspot.com
The words of this author reflect his/her own opinions and do not necessarily represent the official position of the Orthodox Union.
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