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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #clothe
I have an evening dress, pink mull over silk (I'm perfectly beautiful in that), and a blue church dress, and a dinner dress of red veiling with Oriental trimming (makes me look like a Gipsy), and another of rose-coloured challis, and a grey street suit, and an every-day dress for classes. That wouldn't be an awfully big wardrobe for Julia Rutledge Pendleton, perhaps, but for Jerusha Abbott - Oh, my! ↗
And now a POEM... A clothesline was a news forecast, To neighbors passing by, There were no secrets you could keep, When clothes were hung to dry. It also was a friendly link, For neighbors always knew If company had stopped on by, To spend a night or two. For then you'd see the "fancy sheets", And towels upon the line; You'd see the "company table cloths", With intricate designs. The line announced a baby's birth, From folks who lived inside, As brand new infant clothes were hung, So carefully with pride! The ages of the children could, So readily be known By watching how the sizes changed, You'd know how much they'd grown! It also told when illness struck, As extra sheets were hung; Then nightclothes, and a bathrobe too, Haphazardly were strung. It also said, "On vacation now", When lines hung limp and bare. It told, "We're back!" when full lines sagged, With not an inch to spare! New folks in town were scorned upon, If wash was dingy and gray, As neighbors carefully raised their brows, And looked the other way. But clotheslines now are of the past, For dryers make work much less. Now what goes on inside a home, Is anybody's guess! I really miss that way of life, It was a friendly sign When neighbors knew each other best... By what hung on the line. ↗
Clothes as text, clothes as narration, clothes as a story. Clothes as the story of our lives. And if you were to gather all the clothes you have ever owned in all your life, each baby shoe and winter coat and wedding dress, you would have your autobiography. You could wear, once more, your own life in all its stages, from whatever they wrapped you in when you emerged from the dark red naked warmth of the womb to your deathbed. ↗
