The Devil Wears Gucci
by Plum Selfridge

standing at the intersection of 17th and broadway

with a pair of manolo blahnik mary janes

and a philip treacy hat,

accompanied by a judith leiber bag,

in the shape of a swan

covered in what look like swarovski crystals -

retailing at $3,500.

she looks over her shoulder

as the camera pulls away,

to produce a sweeping shot of new york city

in the fall.

within 48 hours

another ten planes will crash on the hudson

and clint eastwood will begin directing another ten films

about the tenacity of the human spirit.

the american dream never dies -

it is fed by innovation,

of which there is plenty.

long live goldman sachs.


This little poem zig-zags its way across a neat little collection of film and pop culture references, encompassing 'The Devil Wears Prada’, 'Sully’, 'Sex and the City’, and the illuminated books of RuPaul Charles. I hope that in its sleep deprived and ludic ways, the poem still manages to cut through with enough of a lucid critical gaze on the (pop) culture it seeks to both embody and dismantle. Long live Goldman Sachs.


Plum Selfridge (they/them) is a queer who lives and writes in Scotland.