I have very little fashion sense, and to tell you the truth, I give it very little thought. I dress to be as comfortable as I possibly can. Most of my clothing is either black, grey, or dark blue, and I don't really wear a lot of colours. But I do like jackets. I have a little bit of an obsession with them.
I hope that I dress for my age. Because there's no need to be dowdy, is there? But I don't go with all the colours that everybody is wearing. I'm not very fond of lime green or orange, so I don't do that. I read all the fashion magazines, but most things are totally unsuitable for somebody of 79.
Onstage, I don't want to be thinking about my outfit, I want to think about what I'm doing, so I'll try to dress as comfortably as possible.
These people who come to Comic-Con and dress up - all across the country, the rest of the population who doesn't understand are scoffing at them.
It wouldn't have mattered to my mother if I married a black, was gay, lived in a commune or wore a dress.
The Japanese look most diminutive in European dress. Each garment is a misfit and exaggerates the miserable physique and the national defects of concave chests and bow legs. The lack of 'complexion' and of hair upon the face makes it nearly impossible to judge of the ages of men.
I mix everything up. A museum curator once said to me that there is a great jazz component to the way I do things because good jazz is improvisation and draws elements from all different cultures. And that's the way I do everything - the way I dress and decorate.
If a man dreams that he has committed a sin before which the sun hid his face, it is often safe to conjecture that, in sheer forgetfulness, he wore a red tie, or brown boots with evening dress.
The connection between dress and war is not far to seek; your finest clothes are those you wear as soldiers.
I like to style myself and aim to wear the coolest of clothes that I can lay my hands on! It's my conscious effort to look different and dress up funky. I feel elated that people notice the crazy things I do.
My mother used to dress rather risque when I was a kid, and that sort of shocked me. I always thought moms were supposed to wear cardigans and flats, but she was in leather bracelets and minidresses. In hindsight, it was pretty cool, but I'm probably more conservative because of it.
Elegance does not consist in putting on a new dress.
There's a continuity between what I care about in any form: I care about it in my music, in article-writing, in how I dress, in how I live, in my relationships, in how I navigate paparazzi, how I decorate my home. There's such a continuity between everything that I don't really care what form it shows up in.
Before I took the veil, I was ornamented for the ceremony, and was clothed in a rich dress belonging to the Convent, which was used on such occasions; and placed not far from the altar in the chapel, in the view of a number of spectators who had assembled, perhaps about forty.
Being the new guy, you're gonna dress your best every day. When you're the cool guy, you gonna be like, 'Ah, I'm the cool guy anyway. I don't need to dress like that.'
Hordes of young girls never copied my hairdos or the way I talk or the way I dress. I have, therefore, never had to go through the stress of perpetuating an image that's often the equivalent of one particular song that forever freezes a precise moment of one's youth.
Beauty is about perception, not about make-up. I think the beginning of all beauty is knowing and liking oneself. You can't put on make-up, or dress yourself, or do you hair with any sort of fun or joy if you're doing it from a position of correction.
Chanel took women out of corsets and put them into the 'simple little black dress,' the perfectly tailored suit, the bell-bottom sailor pants, and jersey tops.
I like to accentuate the feminine form, so I'm a big fan of corsets. A woman's body is beautiful and should be shown off and celebrated. I love a simple and elegant dress that highlights my waist.
Women: You can't live with them, and you can't get them to dress up in a skimpy little Nazi costume and beat you with a warm squash or something.
