Quotes About Fashion

My Mom and I shopped all the time, she shops all the time, and I was always into fashion. I've been blessed to be in a situation where I can now buy some of the things that look good.

The stiletto is the icon of erotic femininity. You're taller, thinner and curvier, all at the same time. What's not to like?

I spent a long time learning how to construct clothes, which is important to do before you can deconstruct them.

Every time somebody makes an Indian movie...Cher on a horse with a headdress and a miniskirt...the fashion industry cashes in.

I spend a lot of time in American Apparel.

By the time the traditionally male lexicographers become interested in looking at fashion words, their origins are lost in the mists of time.

Here is what I know about dressing like your teenage daughter: She will always look better than you

To my mind, fashion is one of the wickedest things in the world.

People seem always actually to know, with a degree of pain that has required the comfort of fairy tales, that when you are dressed in any particular way at all, you are revealed rather than hidden.

Despite all ideological attempts to transcend the mode in clothes, it is the lust of the eye for change, the power of the eye to make instant associations, and its need to demand and to create and combine images that hold clothing to significant and delicate shifts of dynamic visual form.

I want to be pure in heart -- but I like to wear my purple dress.

choosing a gown of a dark blue-gray so soft that in the shadow it looked almost indigo. The line of the neck and the sweep of the skirt were both very flattering, and cut in the fashion of the moment. Deliberately she wore no jewelry, except very small diamond drop earrings. Her shining silver hair was ornament enough.

Lady Mary came last. She looked magnificent, even regal. Her dress was highly fashionable; dark slate blue overlaid with black fleur-de-lis and stitched with jet beads across the throat and bosom, the sleeves garnered. A black hat adorned her head at a rakish angle, dashing and precarious.

She was wearing a gown of lilac pink threaded with silver and stitched with tiny pearls. It was gorgeous in itself, and of course had the perfect new skirt, but it did not flatter her as a cooler shade would have done.

On the other hand, he enjoyed seeing Charlotte wear a really beautiful gown of warm coral and russet tones with even a touch of hot scarlet in the brocade. It was brand new; the skirt was perfectly flat at the front and around the hips, not a line possible for everyone. It widened like a bell at the bottom, so cleverly was it cut. It was unadorned; the beauty of the fabric said everything.

she was dressed in the softest grape blue, a gentle color neither navy nor purple, nor yet silver. It was subtle, expensive and extremely flattering.

She knows what matters and what doesn't,' she answered, choosing her words carefully. 'She remembers what she receives, but never what she gives. She doesn't hold grudges, and if she thinks something is funny she will laugh, whether it is the done thing or not. She loves the opera, and gorgeous clothes. She is honest when it is fashionable not to be, but she is never unnecessarily unkind. And she will fight to the death for a cause she believes in.

If I haven't put that on a T-shirt, I'm going to. Actually, I really don't want to write anything that can't be put on a T-shirt. Actually I'd like to write only on T-shirts. Actually, I'd like to write whole novels on T-shirts. So you guys could say, 'I'm wearing chapter 8 of Lestat's new book, that's my favorite; oh I see you're wearing chapter 6-

she appeared in a dashing fur coat and very high heels, with a bottle of bootleg whiskey in a brown paper bag from which she drank all during the meeting, erupting into wild laughter

People played with fact and fancy. Waitresses wrote novels at night that would make them famous. Laborers fell in love with naked movie queens in rented cassette films. The rich wore paper jewelry, and the poor bought tiny diamonds. And princesses sallied forth onto the Champs Elysées in carefully faded rags.

Those clothes. Impossible. I mean, tomorrow night, as they say in the twentieth century, you will lose that sweater and those pants.

I like gloves," said Marius. "I'm never without them. Our hands frighten mortals when they take the time to look. And gloves feel warm which we never do.

If the world comes to an end, I shall be well dressed for it, whether it is by the light of day or this dark of night.

She was tall, and had kept her dark brown hair loose and long all her life, save for a leather barette such as she wore now, which held only her forelocks beneath her head to flow down her back. She wore gold hoops danging from her small earlobes, and her soft white summer clothes had a gypsy flare to them, perhaps because of the red scarf tied around the waist of her full cotton skirt.