Jeans Quotes
The best sayings about Jeans that you can share on Instagram, Pinterest, Facebook and other social networks!
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Do you mean am I worried about people seeing me with my jeans off? Sure. Sometimes people are overcome. They fall down. They hit their heads. It's worrying.
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Sweet Jesus. It was The Delicious in the dark shirt and jeans.
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I do enjoy wearing Japanese and Italian clothing. I also enjoy my blue jeans or tennis shorts and running shoes. I like driving a Porsche because it is an elegant machine and it is a very beautiful experience to drive it. It's magnificently made.
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A magazine to have style, must need and understand and invest in what jingles - not jiggles - in designer jeans.
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The Aly loafer is our modern take on the penny loafer with a subtle slit across the top. I wear loafers with everything these days- skinny jeans, long skirts and dresses.
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Skinny jeans are usually my go to jean. I do bootleg every once in a while, boyfriend jeans I feel like are so hard to pull off! Skinny jeans are very easy and you can kind of pair anything with them and it will work: heels and boots or nice top or flouncy top.
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I treat my cheeks like breasts in a push-up bra. I just reach down in there, lift them up and push them together. And they'll stay put if the jeans are tight enough.
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The driver got out smiling. He looked about seventeen or eighteen, and for a second, I had the uneasy feeling it was Luke, my old enemy. This guy had the same sandy hair and outdoorsy good looks. But it wasn't Luke. His smile was brighter and more playful. (Luke didn't do much more than scowl and sneer these days.) The Maserati driver wore jeans and loafers and a sleeveless T-shirt. "Wow" Thalia muttered. Apollo Is hot." "He's the sun god," I said. "That's not what I meant.
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I love guys who know how to dress. I love the motorcycle boots, and I love the skinnier jeans with jackets and scarves. Anybody who gets his clothes at All Saints, that's my guy.
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Back in the day, a pair of tight jeans was enough to earn a girl a bad reputation. Now slutty has gone Main Street.
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I'm pretty low-key; you'll often find me in jeans, a T-shirt and sweatshirt.
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I live in jeans and own a lot of them. I'm much more comfortable in trousers and T-shirts, and I don't often wear dresses.
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I really like to be by myself and if I do go out to look around, I dress in jeans. My secretary is constantly telling me to dress up, shave and look your best because people know you. That bothers me. I just want to be natural.
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There is so much blandness and grayness out there, people want to be able to say "it's mine." They want to customize their cars like they customize a jeans jacket.
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You might be a redneck if you see a sign that says Say No To Crack and it reminds you to pull your jeans up.
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An athletic man, or whatever you want to call him, will only look good in a very classic suit, a pair of classic jeans, athletic clothes or simply naked. Forget fashion. This is not going to happen, unless you want to look like a Chippendales dancer in designer clothes.
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I have always felt comfortable in blue jeans. I have found it interesting, however, that people also whistle at blue jeans. I have to admit that I like mine to fit. There's nothing I hate worse than baggy blue jeans.
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Oh. Oberon looked at me. I know that has to make you sad. But call to me instead, Atticus. I'll always answer. Your fly has been open all this time, by the way, and Granuaile hasn't said a thing. Thanks, buddy, I said silently as I tried to surreptitiously zip up my jeans. See? I got your back AND your front. I deserve a treat.
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Her underwear, her jeans, the comforter, my corduroys and my boxers between us, I thought. Five layers, and yet I felt it, the nervous warmth of touching – a pale reflection of the fireworks of one mouth on another, but a reflection nonetheless. And in the almostness of the moment, I cared at least enough. I wasn’t sure whether I liked her, and doubted whether I could trust her, but I cared at least enough to try to find out. Her on my bed, wide green eyes staring down at me. The enduring mystery of her sly, almost smirking, smile. Five layers between us.
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Cold?" Ravus echoed. He took her arm and rubbed it between his hands, watching them as though they were betraying him. "Better?" He asked warily. His skin felt hot, even through the cloth of her shirt, his touch was both soothing and electric. She leaned into him without thinking. His thighs parted, rough black cloth scratching against her jeans as she moved between his long legs. His eyes half-lidded as he pushed himself off the desk, their bodies sliding together, his hands still holding hers. Then, suddenly, he froze.
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The churches weren't going to accept me looking like a street person with long hair and faded jeans. They did not like the music I was recording. And I had no desire to preach the gospel to the converted.
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My essentials are skinny jeans, loose-fitting tees, big jumpers, and the leather jacket. Everything is black or blue - I don't own anything colorful.
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I think that if people show up in jeans and chains, it's great that all parts of culture are interested in music. People forget sometimes that it's about the music, not how you act and dress.
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I always say to people, the Eighties were so inventive because people wanted to stand out. By the time we got to the Nineties, everyone wanted to fit in. It was all about having the same pair of trainers and the same pair of jeans. That's fatal. Whereas the Eighties you would never be seen in the same pair of jeans that somebody else was wearing.
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Love is like grass. If you fall on it, it may leave a stain and some temporary pain. But you'll get over the pain, it will eventually stop hurting. Now maybe the stain ruined your favourite pair of jeans, or maybe it was nothing special that was ruined, but either way the stain remains there. And with time, it will begin to fade, but it will always be there, a permanent reminder that you, too, once fell.
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Let me guess,” Eli said, his voice that low, even timbre, as always. “Drinking from kegs also falls under outdoor activity.” I just looked at him, standing there in jeans and the same blue hoodie he’d had on the first time I met him. Maybe it was the embarrassment, which had been bad enough before I had an audience, but I was instantly annoyed. I said, “Are we outside?” He glanced round, as if needing to confirm this. “Nope.” “Then no.” I turned my attention back to the keg.
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I think jeans have gotten away from the original meaning, that symbol of freedom; they've gone gimmicky and turned into a status item. Our denim is offered at lower price points for that reason. As far as the men's clothing in the collection, it's basically my wardrobe. I think men's clothes should be grounded, strong and classic. I like simple: a blazer, jeans, a low cut tee and maybe a silk scarf.
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Is there any more Room for me in those Jeans.
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I had such a distaste for '70s clothing. So, the '90s were a rough period for me because I got made fun of for wearing what they used to call "pegged pants." Now they call them "skinny jeans."
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Why do guys insist on wearing those odious jeans with their rear ends hanging down around their ankles? Do they really think it's hot?
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