Words to Live By: Clothes & Style

Presented without comment, here is a collection of quotes on the topic of style and clothing.

Painting above: Self-Portrait on the Border Line Between Mexico and the United States (c.1932) by Frida Kahlo

“The Shigeisa was further to the northern end of the room, facing south towards me. She was dressed in layer upon layer of gowns in lighter and darker shades of plum-pink, with over this a rich damask gown. Her formal over-robe was of a reddish maroon figured silk, and the uppermost layer was a heavy brocade in a spring-shoot green, which produced a beautifully youthful impression. I was deeply impressed with the way she sat throughout with her fan shielding her face, and I must say I found her utterly splendid and wonderful.”

-from The Pillow Book by Sei Shōnagon

“She holds Ainsley alone responsible for the smoke, and seems to think that she sends it out of her nostrils like a dragon. But she never stops Ainsley in the hall to talk about it: only me.  I suspect she’s decided that Ainsley isn’t respectable, whereas I am. It’s probably the way we dress: Ainsley says I choose clothes as though they’re a camouflage or a protective colouration, though I can’t see anything wrong with that. She herself goes in for neon pink.”

-from The Edible Woman by Margaret Atwood

“Sweet little old ladies. At first you don’t see them. And then, there they are, on the tram, at the post office, in the shop [...] You look closely at the complexion: cared for or neglected. You notice the grey skirt and the white blouse with the embroidered collar (dirty!). The blouse is worn thin and greyed from washing. She has buttoned it up crookedly, she tries to unbutton it but cannot, her fingers are stiff, the bones are old, they are getting light and hollow like bird bones. Two others lend her a hand and with their collective efforts they do up the blouse. Buttoned up to her chin, she looks like a little girl. The other two smooth the patch of embroidery on the collar, cooing with admiration, how far back does the embroidery go, it used to be my mothers, oh, everything used to be so right and so pretty.”

-from Baba Yaga Laid an Egg by Dubravka Ugresic (2007, English trans. 2009)

“Today, she regally glides into my home and pecks me lightly on the cheek. She smells like new clothes. Her generation of women still wear wool skirts, classic George Straith cardigans and the humble two-inch pump. They still show a bit of calf. And they still like to distinguish themselves in front of the counter at pâtisseries, or in grey Mercedes purring in front of stoplights just off Point Grey Road. This elusive sisterhood of those who have made it, usually by marrying into it. And the more money, the more righteous!”

-from Disappearing Moon Cafe by Sky Lee

Painting above: Memory, the Heart (c.1937) by Frida Kahlo

A sense of purpose filled Imoshen as she tried on the Sagora style clothing. She pulled the hood into place, and lowered the net over her face so that only her mouth and chin were visible. The world appeared blurry. Why would anyone limit their vision like this?

Because they valued privacy. It had taken delicate negotiation to organize her language lessons, and part of the stipulation was that she would honour Sagorian customs.

‘Hold still while I get the length right.’ Frayvia knelt to pin the hem. ‘There, how does it feel?’

‘It’s a little odd having the sleeves cover my hands, but I”ll get used to it.’

‘Now the Mieren half-cape.’

Imoshen swung the red half-cape around her shoulders to complete her costume. She studied herself in the mirror.

‘If I keep my gift tightly reined, no one will know I’m T’En. In fact…’ She turned this way and that. 

‘Unless I speak, they won’t know my gender either.’

The thought of such freedom gave her a thrill.

-from Besieged by Rowena Cory Daniells

Painting above: Self-portrait with Cropped Hair (c.1940) by Frida Kahlo

How absolutely incredible that Milicent [Patrick] was creating these masculine monsters while reveling in her lady glory. How marvellous that she refused to try and fit into the boys' club, that she was unapologetically herself and marched into that male-dominated space in her heels [...] It was a revelation to me that you can be a strong woman in a pair of steel-toed boots or a pair of sparkling pumps.

from The Lady From The Black Lagoon: Hollywood Monsters and the Lost Legacy of Milicent Patrick by Mallory O'Meara

A version of this post was printed in Issue 2: Books & Reading of my zine catalogue Y in 2015.