The new, more democratic NY Fashion Week - a parody-tribute lyric

This seemed to go over a bit when I posted it in the NYT comments, my parody-tribute to the new apps for Fashion Week making it available to the whole city rather than the elite few.
The actual NYT article, for Fashion Week followers,  is at
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/09/10/nyregion/new-york-today-the-city-as-runway.html

Nice that there’ll be apps and other ways to make the Fashion Week experience more democratic.

Tune of “Always True To You in My Fashion”

In the past a Fashion Week
Was exclusive to the chic
Now this Week it’s us they seek, so shout hooray
There are always apps to use when they’re talking fashion
There are always apps to use to hear what they say

So we’ve never gotten snaps
For our jackets or our wraps
Grab their apps and stylish chaps will look our way
There are always apps to use when they’re talking fashion
There are always apps to use to hear what they say

I’m a fashion-challenged mess
Who just can’t dress for success
Now this mess 
Can nonetheless 
Make out okay 

There are always apps to use when they’re talking fashion
There are always apps to use - to hear what they say

In parody-tribute to the London GYPSY

I'd put this parody lyric in the readers' comments under Mr. Brantley's review of 

the London GYPSY, "London Theater Journal:  A Scorching Momma Rose"

http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2015/09/04/london-theater-journal-a-scorching-momma-rose/
relating to the review & some of the reader discussion there of the even darker take on the show..

Tune of “Some People”

Some Roses can rule the boards
Grabbing love as they grab awards
That’s okay for some Roses
And that’s perfectly great

Some Roses can own the stage
Showing heart as they’ve shown their rage
That’s perfect for some Roses
You’d ask out on a date

But no -
When you see this show
You’ll think about every nut case you live in fear of
Every monster you’ve grown to hate
Every salesman you stay real clear of
Fly to London, no need to wait

Some Roses have passed the torch
Got the flame, yeah, but not the scorch
That’s triumphed for some Roses
Some wham, bam, glam Roses that were
Well, they all want your love
But not her!