A Quote by Ilona Andrews
The door swung open and Kate walked in. Her jeans and T-shirt were splattered with blood and she was carrying a severed vampire head. The T-shirt has a smiley face on it.
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T-shirt and jeans style now is where I'm at. Maybe a little rock 'n' roll T-shirt and jeans.
I usually always start with the jeans, which is weird because most guys, I would say, start with a shirt and build around the shirt. I always start with the jeans and I have so many jeans. I have an entire rack of just jeans.
One of the stall doors swings open and a fortyish-year-old woman walks out tucking her shirt into her jeans. Her heavy lined eyes land on Seth. "This is the women's restroom." She points a finger to the door. "Can't you read?" "Can't you see that everyone in this club is about twenty years younger than you?" Seth retorts, turning to the mirror. With his pinkie, he messes with bangs. "Now if you'll excuse us, we're going to have some fun.
The door slammed open. Vivenna jumped, putting a hand to her chest. Vasher walked in. 'Start reaching for that sword when you're startled,' he said. 'There's little reason to grab your shirt, unless you're planning to rip it off.
I never saw my mother in jeans, even in the country. She had one pair, which I have, but she never wore them. They were from 'Rear Window,' in the end when she's wearing jeans and loafers and a shirt. They were comfortable things that zip at the back, with really tight little pleats. They're very dark, they're not proper denim.
If I'm going to work, I put black jeans on, a T-shirt, a shirt, and a jacket.
He was tall, one of the tallest men she had ever seen. Dressed in jeans, boots and a cotton shirt. Thick black hair grew rakishly long, falling over the collar of his shirt. Intense brown eyes, almost the color of amber, surveyed the diner slowly before coming back to her. Electricity sizzled in the air then, as though invisible currents connected them, forcing her to recognize him on a primitive level. Not that she wouldn’t take notice anyway. He was power, strength, and so incredibly male that her breath caught at the sight of him.
My image is jeans. An oversize sweat shirt. T-shirt. A pair of boots or sneakers. Very simple. And that's what I feel comfortable in.
What, are you like Buffy or something? A vampire slayer?” I wish. “No, but my sister is. And my boyfriend’s a vampire so I know a lot about their kind.” Jayden shrinks back from me, wide-eyed. “No, no. He’s one of the good ones. Not all vampires are evil,” I assure him. “So…you’re dating…Edward Cullen.” “Sure, if you have to relate it all to a Stephenie Meyer book,” I grudgingly agree. “But don’t say that to Magnus’s face. He’s a card-carrying member of Team Jacob. Even has the T-shirt.
Looking at her, I thought again how beautiful she was - even in jeans and a T-shirt, no makeup, she was breathtaking. So much so that it was hard to believe she could ever have looked at herself and seen anything else.
The door banged open and Eve rushed out, flushed and mussed and still buttoning her shirt. "It's not what you think." She said. "It was just - oh OK, whatever, it was exactly what you think. Now WHAT?
Tailored jackets with jeans is a great look for all ages. Dress up with a heel and pretty shirt, or just wear a smart T-shirt under the jacket.
In everyday life, I'm pretty much T-shirt and jeans guy - a soft LnA shirt, cool APC jeans, Nikes or Jordans. If I'm going to an event I like to wear a suit, sometimes a three-piece. I'm into brands like Simon Spurr - I think he makes great suits - and Dior Homme.
I think that one morning, the Papess woke in her tower, and her blankets were so warm, and the sun was so golden, she could not bear it. I think she woke, and dressed, and washed her face in cold water, and rubbed her shaven head. I think she walked among her sisters, and for the first time saw that they were so beautiful, and she loved them. I think she woke up one morning of all her mornings, and found that her heart was as white as a silkworm, and the sun was clear as glass on her brow, and she believed then that she could live, and hold peace in her hand like a pearl.
The man walked past me and stopped, observing the blood running down my neck. "Your injury. Let us tend to it." He looked out through the open doorway and silently gestured to someone out there. "Our world," he said, "is far more advanced than yours. For reasons you'll understand shortly." A thin, bony, naked woman entered the room, carrying two small, white kittens. She sat one of the fluffy cats in my lap and stuffed the other down my shirt. She turned and left. "There," said the large man. "The kittens will make your sad go away.
I have a really basic uniform: in winter, black tights and any old dress that I can throw on. In summer, high-waisted jeans and this shirt, or that shirt, and a cashmere cardigan just in case.
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