My dad says that when I was two or three I used to go out dressed as a different character every day. I remember thinking it was perfectly normal to wear different coloured shoes and carry a pink umbrella. But now I've got a goddaughter of that age; ...
When I was eight, nine years of age, my mother bought me a pair of green trousers - corduroy green trousers. I didn't like green, and I basically buried them underground. And my mother kept asking me, 'Where are your trousers?' I said, 'Oh, I don't k...
Why do people talk of the horrors of old age? It's great. I feel like a fine old car with the parts gradually wearing out, but I'm not complaining,... Those who find growing old terrible are people who haven't done what they wanted with their lives.
The music alone wasn't enough. It was great, but when an artist had an amazing look - like the MC5, or the Stooges, or Alice Cooper - you really got sucked in. The wardrobe was so important. At a show, you were engrossed in the music, but you were al...
One of my favorite things about working on 'Glory Daze' is getting to wear amazing '80s outfits coupled with fabulously over-the-top hair and makeup. My wardrobe usually consists of colorful sweaters, denim skirts, high-waisted shorts, crop tops, dan...
As a designer, when someone wears my clothes, the biggest compliment I can receive is that the woman looks amazing because my designs have flattered her, not taken over her. I take that philosophy to heart myself each morning when I am getting ready ...
Me and my friend Ioan Gruffudd are like chalk and cheese when it comes to clothes. He lives for his clothes and has an amazing wardrobe. If we're going out I'll turn up at his house and say, 'I haven't got anything to wear,' and he'll tut and sigh an...
Growing up, Guess always had these amazing billboards and cool affordable clothing. I wore it then, and I still wear it now! It's come full-circle. When I design the clothes, I have a very good team around me, showing me different pieces and cuts.
Have I ever written anything that has really changed something? What I believe is that you can't change anything without using art. I believe that the drops wear away the stone. I try to be part of that army.
The tire left a skid mark on the road that looked like a mustache. So I shaved it off the pavement, stuffed it in my trunk, and took it home to wear to work the next day. Ah, but that’s life, no?
I don't care if you wear white to your coming-out party and pretend to be a virgin, but you're gay, Kit. G-A-Y. Gay! So gay, fairies everywhere will weep that your machismo avoided their gaydar for so long.
Houses, housetops, like human beings have wonderful character. The lives of housetops. The wear of the seasons. The country is beautiful, young, growing things. The majesty of trees. The backs of tenement houses are living documents.
Aye,” he smiles, joy igniting in his stormy gray eyes, stroking my hand possessively as if unwilling to let me go for fear I am nothing more than a hallucination about to wear off.
I had a dream about you. You shot me with a shooting star, but I was impervious because I was wearing a suit of armor made out of cynicism.
I drink coffee like a civilized man—alone in a cave, wearing a loincloth, and grunting in frustration because my club is too thick to fit in my cup to stir in the sugar.
I’m two hours late when I pull in to the driveway. It won’t matter that I’m always on time. People never see how good you are. Fuck up once, and it’s like you are wearing a neon sign.
No hot guy should be allowed to have an English accent and drive a motorcycle. Not to mention wear the leather jacket or sport the cool shades. Hot guys should be forced into footie pajamas.
It's all history out there, Clemens. Your history, my history. You and me, boy, not dates and things. You and me. That's what history is all about. How we came to be here, in the way we are, the clothes we wear.
I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head.
That she had loved Sylveste because he was such a self-important bastard and made something noble of being a self-important bastard, did it with such utter aplomb that it became a kind of virtue, like the wearing of sackcloth
There is nothing quite as unpleasant as wearing a pair of briefs which have been trailed through a Calcutta courtyard. Nothing, that is, except having one's elbows and knees lacerated by unseen slivers of glass and discarded razor blades.
