Sagged Jeans Quotes

The closest I get to any sort of 'designer' items would probably be my weakness for jeans - they don't have to be any particular brand, but I'm willing to do almost anything, go anywhere, spend obscene amounts of money for that elusive 'perfect pair.' ~ Lauren Weisberger

I often look at women who wear great jeans and high heels and nice little T-shirts wandering around the city, and I think, 'I should make more of an effort. I should look like that.' But then I think, 'They can't be happy in those heels.' ~ Kate Winslet

Many women are pear-shaped and tend to wear jeans that are too loose. They need to focus on what jeans will re-proportion their body. ~ Trinny Woodall

You're going to wear that?" Jackson lifted his chin, indicating my outfit. I glanced down at myself. Seeing nothing wrong with my blue jeans, hiking boots, and long-sleeved purple Henley with the top four buttons undone. I returned Jackson's scowl with a frown. "And what's wrong with what I'm wearing?" "Your shirt is half undone, your boobs are busting out, and those jeans are awfully tight." I crossed my arms under my chest and glared at my brother. "Are you calling me fat?" "No. I'm saying that outfit doesn't leave much to the imagination. I don't want that Winston boy getting ideas." Meanwhile, I wanted Duane to get lots of ideas. ~ Penny Reid

What the - " This time when I snapped away from him, he let me go. I stared down at his dick, at his torn jeans, and managed to put two and two together. "Oh…"

Riley groaned and glanced away from me. "Sorry," he mumbled, covering his eyes with his hand. "Usually good at controlling myself, but not with you." His shoulders hunched as the blush all over his body deepened. "I don't have any control when it comes to you."

Not shyness - embarrassment.

His other hand began to tap a familiar rhythm against the couch as he kept his gaze averted from me. "Superstrength is such a drag, ya know? Had to replace half my furniture. Just fucked up your wall. And…this. Comic books never talked about how those guys handled hard-ons. ~ Rowan McBride

I don't spend my life getting dressed! I have to put clothes on during the day; I don't get dressed up at all when I'm working. I'll wear jeans, or something very simple. ~ Iris Apfel

Marlboro Man and I settled in together, soaking up the first days of married life on the ranch that was my new home. He spent his days working cattle; his evenings figuring out the business ramifications of the imploding financial situation in which he and Tim now found themselves. I, on the other hand, spent my days getting organized and washing his muddy clothes, failing miserably in my attempts to remove the greenish brown manure stains and making plans instead to order a hundred pairs of the jeans he wore so I could replace them every day. I saw no other alternative. ~ Ree Drummond

Be apprised, though, that the Maine Lobster Festival's democratization of lobster comes with all the massed inconvenience and aesthetic compromise of real democracy. See, for example, the aforementioned Main Eating Tent, for which there is a constant Disneyland-grade queue, and which turns out to be a square quarter mile of awning-shaded cafeteria lines and rows of long institutional tables at which friend and stranger alike sit cheek by jowl, cracking and chewing and dribbling. It's hot, and the sagged roof traps the steam and the smells, which latter are strong and only partly food-related. It is also loud, and a good percentage of the total noise is masticatory. ~ David Foster Wallace

{Calli} "I,uh... can you stop popping your pecs for thirty seconds and let me focus?"

{Travis} Busted. "Want me to turn around?"

{Calli} "As if that'll help. Your back is as hot as your front." Her eyes dropped to his low-slung jeans. "Well, almost." A little shake of her head and her eyes returned to his face. "God, I can't even remember what I was talking about. ~ Karla Doyle

The print was an old one made from a negative taken in the 1960's of her parents in Sydney Mines, dancing with thrilled, excited expressions on their faces, in front of a classic car that had been a wedding gift at the time. Her mother's hair, red back then, was held back by a blue handkerchief, and she was dressed in a billowing skirt and white blouse. Her father's denim jeans and faded t-shirt were streaked with coal dust as he held her hands and spun her around in the front yard of their old clapboard house, yellow grass under their feet and a cobalt-blue sky with white clouds drifting above. Mandy could almost feel the late summer breeze as she gazed deeply into the print, watching the flamboyant colors come to life. She hung it up to dry on two wooden clothespins hanging from a string above her. ~ Rebecca McNutt

This is where Jean's stubbornness and, perhaps, God's stubborn grace came into play. "My definition of grace would be multifaceted, but part of it would certainly be God's passion for brokenness. He does, he really does love brokenness," Jean told me. "Grace doesn't obsess with ourselves. It obsesses with people and with brokenness. This is a hard place to live, but God is bigger than hard places to live. ~ Cathleen Falsani

He unsnapped the top button on his jeans.
My eyes widened."Sneaky bastard."
I gnawed my lip in pleasure,watching the past,present,and future Master of Cadogan House in the state of utter abandon:shirt on the floor,jeans unbuttoned,his arousal obvious. ~ Chloe Neill

Another revolution around the sun and I was still no closer to getting home. Laying on my lumpy mattress in my blood-stained shirt and dusty jeans with my arm over my eyes, I tried to imagine I was lying on Violet's couch. Clara paced in her cell and I let myself believe it was Violet, padding around the kitchen. My memory kicked up the image of her in tiny cotton shorts and a baggy Beatles t-shirt making coffee. My chest swelled and more than ever I wished I could see her face again, hear her voice. ~ Allison Sipe

Hey, suit guy! The man bellowed.
Chris bit back the urge to yell. He turned, expecting to be confronted by a hand held out for money. What he saw was a pair of enormous eyes, the same color as the spring sky, set in a face with high cheekbones and a delicate chiseled jaw. The man's short, spiked hair was dyed a vibrant purple, making his creamy pale skin glow. Letting his gaze shift downward in a sudden still silence, Chris took in the sleek, sculpted muscles under the snug green t-shirt, the faded jeans molded to slim hips and thighs.
He'd never in his life's seen anyone so beautiful. ~ Ally Blue

shirt. See?" she said, gesturing at a big brown splotch on her white blouse - a splotch that was now dripping down onto her jeans. "I'm sorry. I didn't even notice. ~ Jenn Hype

[Olivia:] "It's just that I was already at my calorie limit for the day before I had the liquor, and I want to go to Europe in my skinny jeans."

[Tobias:] "What the hell are skinny jeans?"

"They're the jeans that you buy that are too small so that someday you can wear them and feel awesome."

He put his fork down and stared at me, openmouthed. "There are so many things wrong with that sentence. I don't even know where to start."

"It's okay. This is advanced self-loathing. You'd have to be a woman to understand it at this level. ~ Lucy March

Love is an afternoon of fishing when I'd sooner be at the ballet.
Love is eating burnt toast and lumpy graving with a big smile.
Love is hearing the words 'You're beautiful' as I fail to squeeze into my fat jeans.
Love is refusing to bring up the past, even if doing so would be a slam dunk to prove your point.
Love is your hand wiping away my tears, trying to erase streaks of mascara.
Love is the warm hug that extinguishes an argument.
Love is a humbly-uttered apology, even if not at fault.
Love is easy to recognize but so hard to define; however, I think it boils down to this ...
Love is caring so much about the feelings of someone else, you sacrifice whatever it takes to help him or her feel better.
In other words, love is my heart being sensitive to yours. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

I really love jeans. ~ Miranda Lambert

Is your name even David?' I asked as I yanked my panties back on.
'Is yours Melanie?' he inquired, buttoning his jeans.
'I asked first,' I countered, wondering for the umpteenth time why being an idiot came so easily to me. ~ Robyn Peterman

I was into Barbie and designer jeans. ~ Carson Kressley

And, the sets that they built are just so beautiful. It's like going to a completely foreign country and experiencing a new culture that you've never seen before, especially at Camelot. It's just so magical. Personally, it's just so much more interesting than wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and walking around somebody else's house. ~ Tamsin Egerton

I want to do a jean line for boys and girls that are sometimes too skinny to fit into jeans, or sometimes a little bit too husky to fit into some jeans. ~ Mark Indelicato

I don't think I do look like an A-Lister. I'm more interested in being comfortable in my own skin than trying to be somebody I'm not. Gimme jeans, an old T-shirt, cowboy boots and a baseball cap any day. ~ Nathan Parsons

My biggest style inspirations come from the '90s. I'm really inspired by TLC, Janet Jackson, and designers like Jeremy Scott. I'm hugely inspired by Club Kids from New York back in the '90s. I'm inspired by the drag queen scene. Combat boots and the torn off jeans and a baggy shirt - I love that look. ~ Kat Graham

His gaze met hers. It was crazy. Dressed down in worn blue jeans and a black shirt, he was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen.
And the moment was sort of perfect.
Even with the deer head staring over his shoulder like a total creeper. ~ J. Lynn

Since the 1960s, mainstream media has searched out and co-opted the most authentic things it could find in youth culture, whether that was psychedelic culture, anti-war culture, blue jeans culture. Eventually heavy metal culture, rap culture, electronica - they'll look for it and then market it back to kids at the mall. ~ Douglas Rushkoff

He strolled through the store to the back room.
Leah sat at a desk, staring at a computer screen that displayed a spreadsheet of some sort. "Give me two minutes," she mumbled, her tone distracted, "then I'll be done."
Seth leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. She wore glasses tonight. He had never seen her do so before and wondered if she needed them for reading and close-up work the way many humans did once they reached their forties. The frames were black, reminding him of those that had been popular in the sixties. Her long hair was pulled back in a slightly disheveled bun. The jeans and blazer she'd apparently changed into before going back to work hugged her beautiful figure.
She had, as Sheldon would say, a real sexy-librarian thing going on that heated Seth's blood. The longer he watched her, the more he wanted to touch her, to peel that blazer off, loosen her hair, and -
"Finally," she announced with a sigh. Closing the file, she removed her glasses and spun the chair around to face him. When she looked at him, her eyebrows flew up. "Hi."
"Hello."
She studied him for a moment. "Something on your mind?"
Aside from a deep desire to strip her naked? ~ Dianne Duvall

You'll be found, your nickels, dimes and Indian-heads fused by electroplating. Abe Lincolns melted into Miss Columbias, eagles plucked raw on the backs of quarters, all run to quicksilver in your jeans. More! Any boy hit by lightning, lift his lid and there on his eyeball, pretty as the Lord's Prayer on a pin, find the last scene the boy ever saw! A box-Brownie photo, by God, of that fire climbing down the sky to blow you like a penny whistle, suck your soul back up along the bright stair! ~ Ray Bradbury

Enough bickering, ladies," Zack said. "Let's - hey, is that blood?" He asked, pointing to my jeans. Attention span of a moth…

J.M. Friedman. Succubus in Seattle (Kindle Locations 382-383). ~ J.R. Thorn

Well, don't you look lovely," his voice dripped behind me, his breath tickling my ear as his words trickled in my brain.
Turning slowly, I saw him in his usual attire, a white t-shirt and jeans, but he looked incredible. His dark hair appeared darker in the dimmed lighting, his eyes shone with eagerness.
"You're here," I said dumbly. Like he didn't know he was here. I was such an idiot sometimes.
"I am," he said, a sexy smirk showing on one side of his mouth. "Wanna dance?" he asked, his leg shaking nervously, his eyes desperately searching mine for an answer.
I nodded, unable to speak. We'd kised, but only a couple of times. He grabbed me, pulling me to a spot close to where we stood. Warm fingers of one hand circled around my waist, while the others held my had. He pulled me close, every inch of our bodies touching. His eyes never left mine as we swayed and spun. I was lost in all that was Cade Kelling. ~ Felicia Tatum

WORRY NOT, PRINCESS," Ironhorse said, and I gaped at him, not believing my eyes. Where a horse had been, now a man stood before me, dark and massive, with a square jaw and fists the size of hams. He wore jeans and a black shirt that bulged with all the muscles underneath, the skin stretched tight over steely tendons. Dreadlocks spilled from his scalp like a mane, and his eyes still burned with that intense red glow. "YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE WITH A FEW TRICKS UP YOUR SLEEVE, GOODFELLOW," he said, a faint smirk beneath his voice. "NOW, GO. I WILL BE RIGHT BEHIND YOU. ~ Julie Kagawa

There are times when every act, no matter how private or unconscious, becomes political. Whom you live with, how you wear your hair, whether you marry, whether you insist that your child take piano lessons, what are the brand names on your shelf; all these become political decisions. At other times, no act
no campaign or tract, statement or rampage
has any political charge at all. People with the least sense of which times are, and which are not, political are usually most avid about politics. At six one morning, Will went out in jeans and a frayed sweater to buy a quart of milk. A tourist bus went by. The megaphone was directed at him. "There's one," it said. That was in the 1960's. Ever since, he's wondered. There's one what? ~ Renata Adler

My days are spent wrangling children, chipping dried manure from boots, washing jeans, and frying calf nuts. ~ Ree Drummond

In my everyday life, I'm a jeans and button-up shirt kind of guy. ~ James Wolk

I'm still a tomboy at heart. In high school, I was the girl in the baggy jeans and Timberlands, but I was also at the hairdresser's every week. ~ Eve

Not to be impolite, but you guys bore me to death. Cole, go tell Vaughn to come here."
Busy scanning the room for Luna, Knight's neck is still cranned as he answers her.
"Damn." He pats the pockets of his jeans, then checks the pockets of his golden Gucci jacket. "I can't find it."
"Can't find what?" Esme blinks.
"The memo where I started taking orders from your sorry ass. ~ L.J. Shen

I'm not alone, I think. Carmichael's height, his black T-shirt, black jeans, and dark hair feel like a protective wall beside me. But I am alone. I am completely alone. ~ Amanda Maciel

My father is standing at the sink wearing a too-tight long-sleeved red T-Shirt, a pair of too-high jeans and sporting the type of orange glow that belongs only on Chernobyl victims. Plus his hair looks like an oil spill.
'Hey you,' he says, washing what looks to be some carrots under the sink. Are they carrots or are they parsnips reflecting the sheen of my father's tangerine skin? Hard to tell.
'You've fake tanned yourself again,' I say - it's a statement, not a question. 'Too much?' he says, innocently. 'I just didn't want to be one of those pasty office workers and I thought it wouldn't hurt to back up last week's application with another hit.'
'Dad, you look-'
'Sun kissed?'
'Radioactive. And what the hell happened to your hands?'
- Cat ~ Rebecca Sparrow

The one garment in the world with the greatest and longest popularity - over a century now - is Levi's denim blue jeans. Along with their practical durability, they show age honestly and elegantly, as successive washings fade and shrink them to perfect fit and rich texture. Ingenious techniques to simulate aging of denim come and go, but the basic indigo 501s, copper-riveted, carry on for decades. This is highly evolved design. Are there blue-jeans buildings among us? ~ Stewart Brand

Patch was dressed in the usual: black shirt, black jeans and a thin silver necklace that flashed against his dark complexion. His sleeves were pushed up his forearms, and I could see his muscles working as he punched buttons. He was tall and lean and hard, and I wouldn't have been surprised if under his clothes he bore several scars, souvenirs from street fights and other reckless behavior.
Not that I wanted a look under his clothes. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

I scurry out to the three-way mirror. With an extra-large sweatshirt over the top, you can hardly tell that they are Effert's jeans. Still no Mom. I adjust the mirror so I can see reflections of reflections, miles and miles of me and my new jeans. I hook my hair behind my ears. I should have washed it. My face is dirty. I lean into the mirror. Eyes after eyes after eyes stare back at me. Am I in there somewhere? A thousand eyes blink. No makeup. Dark circles. I pull the side flaps of the mirror in closer, folding myself into the looking glass and blocking out the rest of the store. My face becomes a Picasso sketch, my body slicing into dissecting cubes. I saw a movie once where a woman was burned over eighty percent of her body and they had to wash all the dead skin off. They wrapped her in bandages, kept her drugged, and waited for skin grafts. They actually sewed her into a new skin. ~ Laurie Halse Anderson

I'm usually all about the tight jeans and little T-shirt, but sometimes I want to put on a black, sequined dress and be a freaking girl ~ Britney Spears

My mom used to call me a 'jean hoarder' growing up because I had so many pairs of jeans - and I still do. ~ Behati Prinsloo