[Petra Norr]

This rides on Villon's refrain, "Where are the snows of yesteryear". Villon's poem is an easy and enjoyable read (in English, that is). I think I woke up dumb today because I'm having problems here & there grasping some Erato poems, including this one; it's not an easy read for me. It's very skillfully done, though. The details add so much to it, and I don't have to visualize exactly how the clothes look (the brand names) in order for them to work.

What I'm wondering about, overall, is: is there progression here? Am I supposed to think of the guy as going from rich to poor? That would make sense, but I'm not sure it's here in the poem. Or should I assume that the "from riches to rags" story is here simply because he once had 40 suits and is now asking for a loan at the bank, or is having problems with a loan he took -- implying that he's in economical trouble? But in that case, how can he still wear Turnbull ties and those expensive-sounding boots?
On a side note, the part that starts with the words "this banker", and then goes on to Kay, confused me; naturally I thought "this banker" referred to the narrator (the narrator speaking of himself) so it threw me when I realized Kay was the banker (I think). And I think I need to think more about this poem before I say more. I'll probably be back.
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Okay, I'll wrap things up for my part, now. I know what "Casual Friday" is: at least I think it means you can wear what you want on the job on one day out of the work-week -- Friday. So, if this isn't a man who's gone from riches to rags, then it simply means he wishes he could wear suits every day of the week. But then why doesn't he do so -- nobody's stopping him, and as far as I know suits have not gone out of fashion.
My conclusion is, this poem is too sophisticated for me; it resides in a completely different world from my own, one which I only glimpse when turning the pages of a glossy magaziine. So it's probably why I'm having trouble with the poem. It's no doubt a delightful light poem for some, but a different matter for backwoods babes like me who wake up dumb.