My hat’s blocked, wardrobe is nice—got many pair, hose.
I think my clothes are such fun
and I really like my ties;
all my suits are pressed so fine. . .ready-to-wear clothes.
Slip-on pants don’t cling too tight,
they have no creases, look alright.

When I walk by, I brighten up the neighborhood
’cause I’m not shy about thinking I’m looking good
in clothes of wood.*

My suits say, I am no swine, prêt-à-porter clothes.
So every guy must envy me;
this pair of pants is heavenly.

Prêt-à-porter clothes, prêt-à-porter clothes.

When I walk by, no blight is in the neighborhood.
No I’m not shy about thinking I’m looking good—
good, too, my mood.

My suits say, they are divine, prêt-à-porter clothes.
So every guy must envy me;
this pair of pants fits fetchingly.

Ooh-la-la-la, prêt-à-porter clothes.
My raiment looks so fine.
Ooh-la-la-la, prêt-à-porter clothes.
My rayon has a shine.
Ooh-la-la-la. . . .

*rayon, made from wood pulp