Dresses Quotes

“Dress shabbily and they remember the dress; dress impeccably and they remember the woman.”
― Coco Chanel

“Over the years I have learned that what is important in a dress is the woman who is wearing it.”
― Yves Saint Laurent

“What I really love about them... is the fact that they contain someone's personal history...I find myself wondering about their lives. I can never look at a garment... without thinking about the woman who owned it. How old was she? Did she work? Was she married? Was she happy?... I look at these exquisite shoes, and I imagine the woman who owned them rising out of them or kissing someone...I look at a little hat like this, I lift up the veil, and I try to imagine the face beneath it... When you buy a piece of vintage clothing you're not just buying the fabric and thread - you're buying a piece of someone's past.”
― Isabel Wolff, A Vintage Affair

“And down I went to fetch my bride:
But, Alice, you were ill at ease;
This dress and that by turns you tried,
Too fearful that you should not please.
I loved you better for your fears,
I knew you could not look but well;
And dews, that would have fall'n in tears,
I kiss'd away before they fell.”
― Alfred Lord Tennyson

“It's easier to be careful in dresses. You have to be or you end up flashing your underclothes or destroying beautiful fabric. Dresses force you to be on guard.”
― Dia Reeves, Bleeding Violet

“To other women the choice of clothes was a form of ingenious exhibition, a shameless seduction. To me, dresses were like a breastplate that I put on to set off to war against this life.”
― Shan Sa, Empress

“They're so excited for one day in a pretty dress... someone should really tell them. They can wear a retty dress whenever they want... Women are out there tethering themselves to mediocre men just so they can wear a ball gown. It's a shame.”
― Rachel Harrison, Cackle

“The Scriven men wore stack-heeled boots and pearl-studded evening coats; the ladies in their vast skirts looked like mythical creatures, half woman, half sofa.”
― Philip Reeve, Fever Crumb

“I wish to learn silence from the dark woods, the unused middle rooms, from the girls in their white dresses,”
― Ilse Aichinger, Verschenkter Rat. Gedichte

“She went alone to the vast room where the second-hand clothes were kept. Later, she thought it the happiest hour of her life. There were silks and brocades by the yard, and pile upon pile of hats, wigs, cloaks, and masks. After two years in wretched rags, even the linen shifts felt as soft as thistledown. She whirled from one delight to another- clutching lace, burying her nose in furs, holding flashy paste jewels next to her new-bleached skin.
Catching her reflected eye in the mirror she laughed out loud, her red mouth wide and knowing. She put aside a few carefully-chosen costumes and elbow-length mittens. Then, finally, she chose a few costumes of a particular nature: shiny satin, ebony black.
Lastly, she gathered the garments she would wear for her journey: a grass-green woolen gown and a lace cap and apron. The effect was somewhat grand for a domestic servant. Her auburn locks were pinned tightly, her figure flattered by a frilled muslin kerchief, crisscrossed in an 'X' over her breast. Pulling out a few auburn tendrils from her cap, she adjusted her bodice to show a little more flesh. Then she grew very still, and smiled slowly into the empty space before her.
"How do you do, sir," she said with a graceful curtsy. "Now, what pretty dish might you care for tonight?”
― Martine Bailey, A Taste for Nightshade

“In ten minutes Peg had returned with a bundle of stuff. She washed her mistress's rat-tails at the stand, and then tucked her back into freshly laundered sheets. Enticing pattern books and journals lay across the coverlet. To Peg's satisfaction, her mistress began to leaf through The Lady's Magazine.
"Your hair has a natural wave." Peg snipped at the ends with the scissors from her chatelaine, curling them into charming spirals. "Would you care for this style?" She held up an illustration of the "Grecian Manner", and deftly wound a bandeau of blue ribbon around her mistress's crown and temple. When Mrs. Croxon lifted the mirror, her face softened. She turned her head from left to right, admiring her reflection.
"Now see that ribbon. That is the color you must have for your new gowns. Forget-me-not, and that pistachio color, they are all fashion. Forget those paces and daffodils.”
― Martine Bailey, A Taste for Nightshade

“Every girl should have at least two things, fun and fashion.”
― Amit Kalantri, Wealth of Words

“I wore a blue silk Brunswick jacket, close-fitting and edged with dark fur, and a matching petticoat, both quilted with a pattern of diamonds and swirling flowers. My gloves were bright green kidskin, and on my head I wore the one extravagant hat I'd brought, the sweeping brim covered in black velvet and crowned with a profusion of scarlet ribbons.

I, Eliza Hamilton.”
― Susan Holloway Scott

“A flaming red flapper dress, a sleek black dress with full, satin purple sleeves and a matching flounce, a summery cotton frock with a cheerful red poppy print, and a musketeer's gold-trimmed jacket tumbled out of the pile of clothing. A mound of scarves fluttered onto the bed.
Marge fingered the frayed, tasseled edge of a silk jacquard scarf in shades of amethyst and emerald green.”
― Jan Moran, The Chocolatier

“The gowns all came in shades of frost white, pearl pink, romantic blue, and fresh cream. Some were simple sheaths. Others had elaborate trains or hems covered in everything from silken flowers to seashells. None of them looked as if they'd ever been worn.”
― Stephanie Garber, Once Upon a Broken Heart

“She finished and we moved on to dresses. Deep reds, icy blues, minty greens, neutrals of all kinds, and even a few metallic shades. An overwhelming set of options that Heather quickly halved by shoving one of the racks at random into the hallway. In the end, we chose a soft pink two-piece. The top was lace with sweetheart bodice, the skirt had a high waist with more lace, and it flowed down to my ankles.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Faeries

“He paused a foot away, and frowned. 'Dresses aren't good for flying, ladies.'

Nesta didn't reply.

He lifted a brow. 'No barking and biting today?'

But Nesta didn't rise to meet him, her face still drained and sallow. 'I've never worn pants,' was all she said.

I could have sworn concern flashed across Cassian's features. But he brushed it aside and drawled. 'I have no doubt you'd start a riot if you did.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“I turned my attention to three dresses that were definitely not made for dining. They were going-out things, dancing looks. One was a swingy black dress made of a wet suit-like material, with a high neck and stiff A-line skirt. Alexander McQueen. Another was a red Gucci with little loops of textured fringe. It should have looked Elmo-like, but the sophisticated shape overrode the thought. I twisted the dress on the hanger, and the skirt rose and fell like the swelling of the ocean. The last dress was surprisingly heavy even though it was the shortest, narrowest, lowest-cut garment in that day's shipment. The tag said Hervé Léger and the dress was ribbed like a mummy, a very tight, shiny, green-and-gold mummy.”
― Jessica Tom, Food Whore

“She pulled out a blue dress made of washed silk that was so soft it felt like skin. Size six. There was another dress in a champagne color- the same cut, very simple, a slip dress to just above the knee. There was a third outfit- a tank and skirt in the same silk, bottle green.
"These are for me?"
"Let's see how they look."
She took the bag into the ladies' room and slipped the blue dress on over her bikini. It fell over Adrienne's body like a dress in a dream- and it would look even better when she had the right underwear. So here was her look. She checked the side of the shopping bag. The clothes had come from a store called Dessert, on India Street, and Adrienne recognized the name of the store as the one owned by the chef's wife, the redhead who had been so kind during soft opening. If you come in, I'd love to dress you, free of charge. So maybe Thatch didn't pay for these clothes. Still, it was weird. Weird that Thatcher had told her she needed a look, weird that he (or the redhead) had perfectly identified it, and weird that she now had to model it for him, proving him right. She stepped out into the dining room.
He gazed at her. And then he gave a long, low whistle. That did it: Her face heated up, the skin on her arms tingled. She had never felt so desirable in all her life.”
― Elin Hilderbrand, The Blue Bistro

“The proclamation had been very clear: All eligible maidens were to attend. All. High or low estate, fat or thin, short or tall, one leg or two. In one week's time, the prince was going to pick a pretty girl from the crowd and make a princess of her. To most women in the kingdom, it was as though God had extended His hand to them.

But not to the seamstresses.

To old Clara Le Dure, it seemed the king had decided this was the week she ought to die. He was personally seeing to it that she should stitch herself into oblivion.”
― Auston Habershaw, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, January/February 2020

“The princess was dressed in one of the girl’s modest gray frocks, a leather belt secured snugly at her waist. Somehow, the lady managed to make even the simple garment look regal.”
― Micheline Ryckman, The Maiden Ship

“Rains is now clutching her chest, her face full of panic.
What if some worthy prince sees Amber before me and is smitten? What if my future rule comes down to this moment, and I've already blown it? She begins to hyperventilate.
I fan her with the wide sleeve of my dress. It's going to be fine.”
― Jen Calonita, Misfits

“Belle examined the dresses skeptically. Of course, if things went the way they did in fairy tales, they would all fit her perfectly. The question was, was this a "Bluebeard's Wives" situation? Or something else?”
― Liz Braswell, As Old as Time

“. Designed to look like a breastplate, the corset was trimmed in silver with sections that looked like overlapping plate armor. It fell to a frothy skirt and the lace at the top of the corset draped around the neckline in a way that hinted more than revealed. Dark and mysterious, the entire expanse of the full skirt was sewn in what looked like a battle scene, complete with charging horses, flying arrows, and dying corpses. I wasn’t sure if I should be impressed or horrified. I felt a little of both.”
― Sarah K.L. Wilson, Fly with the Arrow

“Both were girls, dressed in gowns with bodices formed of leather book spines and skirts made of love story pages.”
― Stephanie Garber, Once Upon a Broken Heart

“...opulent patterns intricately stitched on skirts of gold and silver, each as beautiful as the dawn.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

“Much of the clothing is moth-eaten, but I can see what they once were. A skirt with a beaded pattern of pomegranates, another that pulls up, like a curtain, to show a stage with jewelled mechanical puppets underneath. There is even one stitched with the silhouette of dancing fauns as tall as the skirt itself. I've admired Oriana's dresses for their elegance and opulence, but these awaken in me a hunger for a dress that's riotous. They make me wish I'd seen Locke's mother in one of her gowns. They make me think she must have liked to laugh.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

“Taryn is beautiful in her heavily embroidered dress, and Vivi radiant in soft violet grey with artfully sewn moths seeming to fly from her shoulder across her chest to gather in another group on one side of her waist. I realise how rarely I've seen her in truly splendid clothes. Her hair is up, and my earrings glitter in her lightly furred ears. Her cat eyes gleam in the half light, twin to Madoc's. For once, that makes me smile.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

“Only sometimes in the evening, when they come home late from a party, it looks worn to them in the mirror... almost not wearable any more.”
― Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis and Other Stories

“Ladies dress to kill, not realizing fashion is ill.”
― John Joclebs Bassey, Night of a Thousand Thoughts