Football is made up of all kinds of conflict. In a dressing room, between players, between us and the manager, between us and loads of people who don't seem to matter. It's constant and harsh sometimes.
The most beautiful clothes that can dress a woman are the arms of the man she loves. But for those who haven't had the fortune of finding this happiness, I am there.
If you had asked me when I was 28 and in my wedding dress if I ever thought I would end up in my forties flipping my husband the bird over potato chips, I'd say you were crazy.
I think Indians dress better than anyone, but I don't want to imitate more than a detail or two; I prefer my clothes humdrum and inconspicuous, and a cowboy hat just doesn't work for me.
At work, we have fantastic catering people. They feed the cast and crew all day, and they're sensitive to the needs of picky vegetarians like me. They have delicious salads. I keep mine simple: romaine lettuce, avocado, baked tofu, carrots, tomatoes ...
I had Cooper in December and was back on the red carpet in January. I picked him up and took him to work with me, you know, took him to my dressing room. So he's been raised the same way I was, which is that work is such a big part of our lives.
Most of us were probably less than immaculately honest as teenagers; it's practically encoded into adolescence that you savor your secrets, dress in disguise, carve out some space for experiments and accidents and all the combustible lab work of beco...
Once, no self-respecting puncher considered himself dressed for work until he had his feet inside of a pair of $15 boots made by one of the favorite boot-makers, whose merits they discussed about the camp fires night after night.
What I think I sell with my clothes is confidence, so hopefully all my dresses, my accessories, are friends to the women. When you open the closet, and your eyes are swollen, and you don't like the way you look, you go to your friends.
I feel most bossy in jeans, a white t-shirt, a leather jacket and some heels. I just feel bossy that way. I also feel confident in a sick dress at a premiere. Like most women, as long as I'm comfortable in it, I feel confident.
Almásy: What do you love? Katharine Clifton: What do I love? Almásy: Say everything. Katharine Clifton: Hm, let's see... Water. Fish in it. And hedgehogs; I love hedgehogs. Almásy: And what else? Katharine Clifton: Marmite - I'm addicted. And bath...
She had been struck by the figure of a woman's back in a mirror. She stopped and looked. The dress the figure wore was the color called ashes of roses, and Ada stood, held in place by a sharp stitch of envy or th woman's dress and the fine shape of h...
I’d like to sit there,” I said softly to the girl sitting in front of the other mirror. She scampered. I took over her abandoned make-up and painted my face. Red cheeks, to attract hungry vampyre glances. Black liquid eyeliner and mascara, to dra...
The room was two-tiered, its marble balconies filled with rams and water nymphs in fancy dress; a kaleidoscope of colours swayed in time to the beat of hypnotic music. A concerto of absent musicians, it played only in her mind. The numerous chandelie...
Altaira Morbius: Where have you been? I've beamed and beamed. Robby: Sorry, miss. I was giving myself an oil-job. Altaira Morbius: Robby, I must have a new dress, right away. Robby: Again? Altaira Morbius: Oh, but this one must be different! Absolute...
I look at sex differently than most people. It’s an exchange, and it should be good for both parties. I don’t want you to spread your legs and let me have you because you want someone to hold you. If you want me to hold you, ask me. I want you to...
She ran into the bathroom and powdered her face and the front of her dress, drew a surrealistic version of a mouth beneath her nose, and dashed into her bedroom to find a coat.
I am sure when Cinderella went to that ball, she took a great deal more pleasure in outsmarting her stepmother than in the carriage and the ball dress and the glass slippers.
And I'd started thinking about my mother's last weeks--the way she'd drifted listlessly about the house in her dressing gown, cigarettes in one hand, glass of something strong-smelling in the other.
I never lose sight of the whole. An impeccable dress is made to be lived in, to be torn, wet, stained, crumpled.
You dress her in a wet T-shirt and make her carry the bags? Damn, Cade, I like how you roll" - Rok
