A Quote by Candace Bushnell

I love things that are old and glittery, that come with layers of glamour and past lives. — © Candace Bushnell
I love things that are old and glittery, that come with layers of glamour and past lives.
It's as though the words are trapped, buried under past fears, past lives, like fossils compressed under layers of dirt.
Although, of course, my definition of evil is not everybody else's. Evil is being involved in the glamour and charm of material existence, glamour in its old Gaelic sense meaning enchantment with the look of things, rather than the soul of things.
I know part of nostalgia is romanticising the past, but I love doing things in a slower way, and the glamour of bygone eras.
Whenever a mind is simple and receives an old wisdom, old things pass away,--means, teachers, texts, temples fall; it lives now, and absorbs past and future into present hour. All things are made sacred by relation to it,--one as much as another.
Everything in Louisiana is about layers. There are layers of race, layers of class, layers of survival, layers of death, and layers of rebirth. To live with these layers is to be a true Louisianian. This state has a depth that is simultaneously beyond words and yet as natural as breathing. How can a place be both other-worldly and completely pedestrian is beyond me; however, Louisiana manages to do it. Louisiana is spooky that way.
I think magazines like Glamour have the ability to have a great impact. Glamour has the ability to expose them to things like feminism that they may not be well acquainted with. In fact, Glamour has done that in the past - when I was in eighth grade I read an article in Glamour magazine about female feticide and infanticide that actually sparked my entire interest in feminism. I hate it when some feminists say we should get rid of beauty and fashion magazines - I think there's room in feminism for fashion, for fun, for talking about sex and friendships and relationships, etc.
Now, with the glamour of the past upon them we are inclined to look back on old world festivities with regret and consider present day dances as a poor substitute for the old. From an artistic point of view, they maybe, but in individual freedom and independence of spirit they mark a stage upward.
I am rather partial to Shakespeare, though I haven't done loads. But when it's done right, there's nothing like it. There are layers upon layers upon layers, and you unpack new things constantly. I don't know how he knew so many things - about the world, about women, about human nature, life, death, our fears and hopes.
Sometimes old things need to go away. That way, we have room for the new things that come into our lives.
You can't escape history, or the needs and neuroses you've picked up like layers and layers of tartar on your teeth.... Your every past action and thought have made you what you are.
Old customs are easy to forget with the flashing of events in our lives. Easy to forget, like the heavy clothing we once wore to survive the winters. It is an old custom, the handing down of things. A good knife, a well-made pipe, a heavy robe. Tradition falls prey to constant change, and creativity becomes so revered that the past is a relic, only to be admired. But in this coat, I was held to the earth, pulled to the past by its weight.
Sometimes I'll watch an old movie on television and, once in a while, one of mine, such as April Showers, will come on and I'll watch it. And you know something? I'm always amazed at what a lousy actress I was. I guess in the old days we just got by on glamour.
I love that old glamour look. I think it's because I grew up on it.
I long for the old days of Marilyn Monroe and Audrey Hepburn, stars who had real glamour and mystique. We only knew so much about their lives; the rest was a mystery.
The Fox News makeup treatment is unlike any other in journalism. It involves false lashes, layers and layers of foundation, and heavy applications of come-hither lip gloss.
I have eclectic taste, and I love vintage style mixed with glamour and old world charm.
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