Jackets Quotes

You have to look inside yourself and you have to say, well, what am I about? Why does anyone need this? Why does anyone need a 'Tom Ford' jacket? What do I believe in?

I do things like hem a pair of pants, I do my own tailoring but I wouldn't attempt a jacket.

I love a pair of sexy heels with jeans, a nice jacket, or a little dress.

Today, we're even into the whole sweat thing. They'll wear a [suit] jacket like this, but they'll wear it with sweat pants and sneakers. But I do think there is every generation - and it won't be as big as it was when you and I were those ages - but every generation all of a sudden experiences that they want to dress up.

I believe the term you’re searching for is smoking jacket. I find, now that I have whole days of sunshine ahead of me, I’ve discovered there is more to life than formal haberdashery.

If I go out with a jacket and a pair of trousers that my wife doesn't like, you can bet your ass it ain't in my wardrobe the following day. I say that it gets lost in the sky.

Put too many one-size-fits-all jackets on Americans and the place explodes.

The thing that sometimes gets lost is people look at the harder edge of me ... the leather jacket and the tough rock 'n' roll attitude... and get the wrong impression that I'm mean. That's really something I don't want people to think because I don't think that's the case.

Because I am hard, you will not like me. But the more you hate me, the more you will learn. I am hard but I am fair.

The whole thing of clothes is insane. You can spend a dollar on a jacket in a thrift store. And you can spend a thousand dollars on a jacket in a shop. And if you saw those two jackets walking down the street, you probably wouldn't know which was which.

You look disappointed to see me, Zach," Macey teased. "Don't you like my jacket?

I try to look nice. I comb my hair, I tie my tie, I put on a jacket, but I draw the line when it comes to trimming my eyebrows. You work with what you got.

The book that influenced me most is Sherlock Holmes, which teaches you the way to deal with reality: to deduct. It teaches you to put together the signs. For example, I look at a person and I see their coat, their jacket, their handwriting, their iPhone, and I am able to deduct some details about who they are, what they wear, and what they do. For many years I was fascinated with Sherlock Holmes. The series trained me to look at the world through these sharp, unforgiving eyes.

Once, I had to clip a jacket back to take a picture, and after they were done I forgot to remove the clip until someone noticed.

I like the way corduroys feel. I like the sort of jean aspect of corduroys, but also the texture of them. They probably remind me of my childhood, too, I think. I wore cords, and my dad had a corduroy jacket.

Books. They are lined up on shelves or stacked on a table. There they are wrapped up in there jackets, lines of neat print on nicely bound pages. They look like such orderly, static things. Then you, the reader come along. You open the book jacket, and it can be like opening the gates to an unknown city, or opening the lid of a treasure chest. You read the first word and you're off on a journy of exploration and discovery.

The way I lived, I grew up in a time where people would take your shoes, they'll take your jacket, they'll take your cheese without a gun. So people would jump on you - this was like fourteen, fifteen years old. So it always taught me that you gotta have your crew, in some ways you gotta move, don't put your self in harm's way, and definitely if you're a street dude and want any kind off credibility, don't put yourself under the mercy of anybody else, or you'll be at their mercy; they can do what they want to do to you.

He’s not feeling well,” Clary said, catching at Simon’s wrist. “We’re going.” “No,” Simon said. “No, I — I need to talk to him. To the Inquisitor." Robert reached into his jacket and drew out a crucifix. Clary stared in shock as he held it up between himself and Simon. “I speak to the Night’s Children Council representative, or to the head of the New York clan,” he said. “Not to any vampire who comes to knock at my door —“ Simon reached out and plucked the cross out of Robert’s hand. “Wrong religion,” he said.

There is so much blandness and grayness out there, people want to be able to say "it's mine." They want to customize their cars like they customize a jeans jacket.

I'm a real dumb-dumb in real life. I'm just book smart. But definitely not street smart. The other day I lost my jacket in a cab. And I'll forget things every time I leave the house.

When I was older and I first started working, I was obsessed with buying my first Chanel jacket. I saved up my hard-earned money, went to Barneys, and bought a little black Chanel jacket. It saw many, many job interviews and many, many events. I'm not fitting into it lately, but I still have it.

Ill buy an old jacket and attach gold buttons and a couple royal patches. Or Ill find an old busted sweatshirt, tear out the zipper, and replace it with a $700 zipper. I make things my own.

British people still wear clothes. By clothes I mean actual clothes: jackets and shirts and ties and suits. The spirit of Beau Brummell is still visible. English men make an effort. We’ve lost that in the US. Everyone is more concerned with being comfortable.

I never lived the life of 'Oh, you're so good-looking'. People thought I was a girl when I was little, because I looked like a girl-maybe because my mother would keep my hair really long in a bowl cut. I was in a coffee shop once and the waitress was like, 'What do you want, Miss?' I was 10 or 11-the worst age to have that happen. I had a jean jacket on and a Metallica pin. I thought I was really cool.

I still love books. Nothing a computer can do can compare to a book. You can't really put a book on the Internet. Three companies have offered to put books by me on the Net, and I said, 'If you can make something that has a nice jacket, nice paper with that nice smell, then we'll talk.' All the computer can give you is a manuscript. People don't want to read manuscripts. They want to read books. Books smell good. They look good. You can press it to your bosom. You can carry it in your pocket.

I can find every jacket under the sun that I like. But I cannot find trousers cut the way I want them. They're all really tight at the bottom. Nobody does a boot cut on a trouser leg. It drives me crazy.

I tend not to wear ties very often. I'm usually in old stuff: Hermes or Marc Jacobs boots and jeans and a T-shirt and a leather jacket or a jean jacket.

How had I managed to tie my boots? I didn’t even remember getting dressed. I was out here in public at the mall. What was I wearing? Jeans. I could feel socks. I had my boots on. I plucked at the edge of my t-shirt and saw it was red. I was wearing Dad’s spare Army jacket, and there was a heavy weight in the right pocket that had to be something deadly.

Channeling my inner bohemian in a maxi print skirt and textured denim jacket.

Channel a bohemian state of mind with an effortless dress paired with a must have embroidered moto jacket.

This because it is never really very cold in England. It is drizzly, and the wind will blow; hail happens, and there is a breed of Tuesday in January in which time creeps and no light comes and the air is full of water and nobody really loves anybody, but still a decent jumper and a waxen jacket lined with wool is sufficient for every weather England's got to give.

Hey!" I screamed, waving the jacket, running to one side of the monster. "Hey, stupid! Ground beef!

It definitely helps if I can wear a jacket, because I can have a camera in my pocket. When we're on tour or if I go travel somewhere by myself, that's when I take the most photos.

I like [Count] Olaf's wardrobe, because the whole thing seems like it should be a period piece in many ways, and yet the date is non-specific. So I would wear cloaks and jackets, but also turtlenecks. I was a little beatnik, and kind of hipster in that way.

I don't like any one race or look or type of guy. My tastes as far as looks go are very diverse. I like guys with scruffy beards and leather jackets, but I also like a clean-cut 'GQ'-type guy, so my tastes are very ranged among somebody who laughs at my dumb jokes, too. I have plenty of them.

I love the outdoors, I love climbing mountains. But I also like to walk down the street in New York in the fall and go to a bar. So what I require of a jacket is different, but it still has that heritage.

The Dior heritage is so broad. It has a strong presence in the work. So, when people have to define it quickly, it's, like, the Bar jacket and the movement and the luxury and the Belle Époque and so much more.

The reward in heaven is the perpetual bait, a bait that has caught man in an iron net, a strait-jacket which does not let him expand or grow.

Do not imagine that Art is something which is designed to give gentle uplift and self-confidence . Art is not a brassiere. At least, not in the English sense. But do not forget that brassiere is the French word for life-jacket.

Spring. March fans it, April christens it, and May puts on its jacket and trousers.

Men are valued, not for what they are, but for what they seem to be.

I love going to Topshop, Urban Outfitters and American Apparel, I'm in love with their jackets.

People think pop is rock, and the lines are getting blurred. Now Rihanna's wearing f-ckin' leather jackets, and it's really annoying . . . (My style is) high-class hooker. I dress for myself. Clearly, it's provocative, but it makes me feel good. And if the only reason it makes someone uncomfortable is because I'm 17, then that person's a scumbag because it shouldn't matter.

I feel like when you have an unauthorized police badge and something that looks like it could be a concealed weapon in the small of your back that when you, someone crosses you, pisses you off, road rage, I think just the slight badge and the little moving away of the jacket and not losing eye contact does amazing things.

Nowadays a businessman can go from his office straight to the airport, get into his airplane and fly six hundred or seven hundred miles without taking off his hat. He probably will not even mention this flight, which a bare twenty-five years ago would have meant wearing leather jacket and helmet and goggles and risking his neck every minute of the way.

When you see me on the air, I always have jackets on. I like to think I have a flair and a style but I'm always in a business look.

I bring a poofy gray down jacket with me wherever I go. It's meant for winter, but I use it most in the summer, when everyone cranks up the air-conditioning.

I was the girl in the black leather jacket with the black fingernails, picked up after school by guys with loud cars and motorcycles. I carried straight-A grades, but I had a little trouble with rules. I tended to have a bit of an authority problem.

I always like to incorporate one or two chic accessories that contrast with the more gritty look of my daily uniform: a leather jacket and jeans.

When we are children, we have a tranquil acceptance of mystery which is driven out of us later on, by curiosity and education and experience. But it is possible to find one's way back. With affection and respect, I disagree totally with Penelope Lively's conviction about the 'absolute impossibility of recovering a child's vision.' There _are_ ways, imperfect, partial, fleeting, of looking again at a mystery through the eyes we used to have. Children are not different animals. They are us, not yet wearing our heavy jacket of time.