clothes - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
"To put a scarf over one's hair used to be fashionable. Jackie Onassis Kennedy used to sometimes sport a scarf and huge sunglasses. British women used to wear them all the time to protect their hair-do and for warmth. Perhaps it's time to bring this one back for a renaissance, if only for a short time. We'll look gorgeous in any colour schemes we want and we'll be helping the muslim women to blend in too. Why not? Who's for a splash of colour on their heads on bad hair days?"
Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment,as if the garment was stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out. The ADHD part of me wondered, off-task, whether the rest of his clothes were made the same way. What horrible things would you have to do in your life to get woven into Hades' underwear?
The garment horse is finest mahogany, bespoke and carved by a master. There is nothing accidental about Aunt Delia's home. From the hue of flowers to the pattern of the oriental rugs, everything makes a statement. Though she will be out for some hours, I sit stiffly in the winged chair and sip politely instead of gulping as I do at home. My eyes keep going back to the garments that are almost certainly dry. The fabrics are finer than I can afford, even lying over the wooden frame they are beautiful.
Threadbare, frayed at the cuffs, shabby, patched, too short in the arms and legs, holey, a couple of sizes too big, look like an older brother's hand-me-downs, dressed in an odd assortment of clothes, all of it old and none of it matching, battered looking.
Grubby corduroy cloth cap, an old checked shirt with two buttons missing and baggy jeans that had seen better days. Foul smell of cigarette smoke and stale beer.
Pressed khaki trousers, brown unpolished shoes, blue shirt unbuttoned at the collar, brown hat.
Garment, garb, ecclesiastical, tweed, excellent tailor, white starched jacket, shapeless pants, dressing gown, uniform, tidily dressed, parka, informal, cashmere sweater, inner pocket, short sleeved, open neck shirt, respectably dressed, expensive jacket.
Woollen shirt, checked shirt, trousers, pants, slacks, jogging pants, open necked shirt, loose cardigan, ankle length skirt, unfashionable, suit, synthetic jersey, ill-fitting, lapel, brooch, wrap over skirt, high neck blouse, earrings, cassock.
At this moment a door concealed in the tapestry opened, and a woman appeared. Buckingham saw this apparition in the glass; he uttered a cry. It was the queen!
Anne of Austria was then twenty-six or twenty-seven years of age; that is to say, she was in the full splendor of her beauty.
Her carriage was that of a queen or a goddess; her eyes, which cast the brilliancy of emeralds, were perfectly beautiful, and yet were at the same time full of sweetness and majesty.
Her mouth was small and rosy; and although her underlip, like that of all princes of the House of Austria, protruded slightly beyond the other, it was eminently lovely in its smile, but as profoundly disdainful in its contempt.
Her skin was admired for its velvety softness; her hands and arms were of surpassing beauty, all the poets of the time singing them as incomparable.
Lastly, her hair, which, from being light in her youth, had become chestnut, and which she wore curled very plainly, and with much powder, admirably set off her face, in which the most rigid critic could only have desired a little less rouge, and the most fastidious sculptor a little more fineness in the nose.
Buckingham remained for a moment dazzled. Never had Anne of Austria appeared to him so beautiful, amid balls, fetes, or carousals, as she appeared to him at this moment, dressed in a simple robe of white satin, and accompanied by Donna Estafania--the only one of her Spanish women who had not been driven from her by the jealousy of the king or by the persecutions of Richelieu.
The center of the most animated group was a Musketeer of great height and haughty countenance, dressed in a costume so peculiar as to attract general attention. He did not wear the uniform cloak--which was not obligatory at that epoch of less liberty but more independence--but a cerulean-blue doublet, a little faded and worn, and over this a magnificent baldric, worked in gold, which shone like water ripples in the sun. A long cloak of crimson velvet fell in graceful folds from his shoulders, disclosing in front the splendid baldric, from which was suspended a gigantic rapier. This Musketeer had just come off guard, complained of having a cold, and coughed from time to time affectedly. It was for this reason, as he said to those around him, that he had put on his cloak; and while he spoke with a lofty air and twisted his mustache disdainfully, all admired his embroidered baldric, and d'Artagnan more than anyone.
His interlocutor, whose head appeared through the carriage window, was a woman of from twenty to two-and-twenty years. We have already observed with what rapidity d'Artagnan seized the expression of a countenance. He perceived then, at a glance, that this woman was young and beautiful; and her style of beauty struck him more forcibly from its being totally different from that of the southern countries in which d'Artagnan had hitherto resided. She was pale and fair, with long curls falling in profusion over her shoulders, had large, blue, languishing eyes, rosy lips, and hands of alabaster. She was talking with great animation with the stranger.
Nevertheless, d'Artagnan was desirous of examining the appearance of this impertinent personage who ridiculed him. He fixed his haughty eye upon the stranger, and perceived a man of from forty to forty-five years of age, with black and piercing eyes, pale complexion, a strongly marked nose, and a black and well-shaped mustache. He was dressed in a doublet and hose of a violet color, with aiguillettes of the same color, without any other ornaments than the customary slashes, through which the shirt appeared. This doublet and hose, though new, were creased, like traveling clothes for a long time packed in a portmanteau. D'Artagnan made all these remarks with the rapidity of a most minute observer, and doubtless from an instinctive feeling that this stranger was destined to have a great influence over his future life.