Quotes About Clothes

Dad wore a very smart suit, with a long black jacket and grey pinstripe trousers. He had a waistcoat too, black silk with gold embroidery. Dad never wore fancy clothes. It was hard work imagining him in anything but jeans or his suit for work, but it was his wedding after all and I wanted him to look wonderful. I

Beneath these faces, these clothes, accents, rudeness, was power and sorrow, both unadmitted, unrealized, the power of inventors, the sorrow of the disconnected.

I know that it's a big struggle with a lot of women to dress up - especially now women have been working - because it can be uncomfortable. So it was important to me with my role to make clothes that are slightly more dressed up but easy to wear.

I love clothes - I love shopping for clothes, I love wearing clothes, I love talking about clothes - but oddly, putting on the dress and walking around in front of people, that's the place where I'm most uncomfortable.

When I was young, clothes were really just about what fit, because Ashley and I were so tiny. So I understood fit before I understood style.

A lot of my collections are informed by nostalgia. I think that's because I loved clothes early on. I remember, at maybe age five, being concerned about what I wore, right down to the underwear.

The first thing that stuck in the minds of the disciples was not the empty tomb, but rather the empty grave clothes - undisturbed in form and position.

Almost every labourer has his Sunday suit, very often really good clothes, sometimes glossy black, with the regulation 'chimney pot'. His unfortunate walk betrays him, dress how he will.

If kindness isn't your strong suit, then you need to change clothes.

Even the most respectable woman has a complete set of clothes in her wardrobe ready for a possible abduction.

Everything from the music to our clothes was truly authentic. Lisa and I were in my basement spray painting our overalls.

I'm a little bit phobic about stains on my clothes, so I never travel without a little packet of organic stain remover.

I really love painting women. Their bodies, their clothes - it all interests me, whereas men really don't that much, in a way.

In school, I wasn't like the cool guy who had all the new clothes and had all the girls. I felt like the world saw me as an idiot.

For Eid - or Raya, as the Malaysians call it - we love to shop for new clothes for the festive season. There will be open houses to go to, and Malaysians love to look good for these.

I've loved music. It was my first everything, but fashion and clothes is just the next step.

We're creating a brand image which didn't exist in the beginning, and I want to grow that. And in the way that the clothes and services we offer are a luxurious niche, I want to be doing that with accessories.

I love the mix of people who hang out at nightclubs now. Their individuality is an inspiration to me. The music they listen to, the clothes they wear and the way they wear them defines a street style that I love.

But first of all he is a woodsman, and you aren't a woodsman unless you have such a feeling for topography that you can look at the earth and see what it would look like without any woods or covering on it. It's something like the gift all men wish for when they or young-- or old-- of being able to look through a woman's clothes and see her body, possibly even a little of her character.

Stealing drugs, selling drugs, buying clothes, renting luxury cars, taking clothes back, ordering blender drinks, this isn't what I'd call Real Life, not by a long shot.

Meanwhile, Milo had been in the Senate on that day until it was dismissed and then came home. He changed out of his formal clothes, waited for a little while his wife got herself ready--you all know how that goes-- and set out at the hour when Clodius, if he had been planning on coming back to Rome that day, would have returned.

The man was a somewhat seedy character. He might not actually have slept in his clothes, although the first impression was that he had. He clutched a threadbare cap with stubby, grimed fingers. The fingernails were rimmed with the blue of dirt.

Did you take a vow of poverty or something? This is a housedress, Malloy, she said, indignant again. I was cleaning when you came. I gave my other clothes away because I got some new ones. From my mother. Did your mother take a vow of poverty?

How Shakespeare loathed humanity—the putting on of clothes, the getting of children, the sordidity of the mouth and the belly! This was now revealed to Septimus; the message hidden in the beauty of words. The secret signal which one generation passes, under disguise, to the next is loathing, hatred, despair. Dante the same. Aeschylus (translated) the same.