A Quote by Aileen Lee

Consider the social proof of a line of people standing behind a velvet rope, waiting to get into a club. The line makes most people walking by want to find out what's worth the wait. The digital equivalent of the velvet rope helped build viral growth for initially invite-only launches like Gmail, Gilt Groupe, Spotify, and Turntable.fm.
We're all driven to premieres or nightclubs and seen the rope separating those who can enter and those who can't. Well, there's also a velvet rope we have inside of us, keeping others from knowing our feelings.
We're all driven to premieres or nightclubs and seen the rope separating those who can enter and those who can't. Well, there's also velvet rope we have inside of us, keeping others from knowing our feelings.
The thing about Instagram and fashion is that is has absolutely taken down the sense of the velvet rope and has pulled the curtain aside on the entire experience that used to be for a select 100 people in the world. Now it is there for millions of people to consume.
I think that at its best, painting can be an act of juggling perceptions, a hall of mirrors. And it can be a bit confusing and scattering. But as the artist, as the man behind the velvet rope who controls the smoke and the mirrors and the way that things move in the painted space, what I want to do is to try my best to be a good witness.
Tom Ford gave me high heels for the baby. They're a little kitten heel with a velvet rope that you tie. It's like a collection piece. I have to put it on the bookshelf, framed.
A primary flaw in my psychology is that I'll give people a hundred yards' worth of rope with which to hang themselves, but once they reach that hundred-yard line, I strangle them to death with it.
Most people have a rope that ties them to someone, and that rope can be short or it can be long. (Be long. Belong. Get it?) You don't know how long, though. It's not your choice.
I don't think we are trying too hard. WE is inclusive from the beginning. That's the whole point. We've always been, 'everyone is welcome.' There is no velvet rope, no barrier to entry.
If you're impatient while waiting for the bus, tell yourself you're doing 'Bus waiting meditation.' If you're standing in a slow line at the drugstore, you're doing 'Waiting in line meditation.' Just saying these words makes me feel very spiritual and high-minded and wise.
I always find it really flattering when people are going to line up and wait in line for hours to tell you how cool you are and to take a picture with you. I always have time for that. It makes you feel good.
One thing I can't do, and I hope that there are other people out there that feel the same way, is climb a rope. Oh my gosh, it's so hard to climb rope! It's all about grip and arms.
I give people a huge amount of rope, and then I hold them accountable for the rope.
I've always been, like a lot of people, driven by fear. Always focusing on the fire on the rope, as opposed to what the rope is coming from.
I got the breaks. Starting from nowhere in the corn belt, I helped edit a country weekly, then was jack-of-all-departments on an obscure daily, so that when I arrived in a big city everything I tackled in the line of column conducting and syndicate peddling and playwriting had to bring promotion, because I had no social standing which could be endangered, no reputation to toss away and no pride which might suffer a setback. Everything I acquired had to be velvet. You cannot lose your silver spoon if you are brought up on pewter.
There are two sides of the Velvet Rope. Those who want to be on the other side and those who are on the other side.
I remember having a conversation with my sister, saying, 'What if I don't make it? What if I'm still waiting tables when I'm 35?' I was just at the end of my rope. But I've been at the end of that rope several times.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!