A Quote by David Lauren

As a kid, I would look at my dad and ask him why he was wearing jeans with his tux. Today I love to do it. It's just fun to be a little more unique. — © David Lauren
As a kid, I would look at my dad and ask him why he was wearing jeans with his tux. Today I love to do it. It's just fun to be a little more unique.
We have a snap of my dad wearing blue eye shadow, which I would always make fun of. When I was about 12 and first started wearing lipstick, my dad would ask, 'Are you wearing makeup?' I would say back, 'You're wearing more makeup there than I am!'
My dad is my dad. I love him, and I realize that he's as famous as he is. Of course, I don't look at him like everybody else does. Because I know his little faults, I know his weaknesses. Nobody's perfect. But he's my dad. Just like your dad is to you.
When I was about 12 and first started wearing lipstick, my dad would ask, 'Are you wearing makeup?' I would say back, 'You're wearing more makeup there than I am!
When I was about 12 and first started wearing lipstick, my dad would ask, 'Are you wearing makeup?' I would say back, 'You're wearing more makeup there than I am!'
There's this unspoken thing that you have to wear a tux and some kind of nice dress. There are all these ethical rules, but I'm sure if you came to the Oscars in ripped jeans and a t-shirt they wouldn't throw you out. You would just look like a fool.
Honestly, I was such a tomboy as a kid. People were taking from their mothers' closets - I was taking from my dad's closet. It was the '80s, so it wasn't terrible, but I was wearing my dad's dress shirts over jeans from the Gap.
I've met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, 'Why?' Why did I cause so much pain? Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness? Can't I see how we're all manifestations of love? I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong. We are not special. We are not crap or trash, either. We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens. And God says, 'No, that's not right.' Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can't teach God anything.
My father died very suddenly at sixty-three. Just dropped dead. For a long time afterward, I'd ask myself, Why didn't I ask him to play golf more? Why didn't I spend more time with him? But when you're off trying to get the brass ring, you forget and overlook those little things. It gives you a certain amount of regret later on, but there's nothing you can do about it. So you just forge on.
I have a really simple wardrobe. I wear a low-scoop tee every day with a tux or leather jacket and tux pants or black jeans. That's pretty much it.
My dad helped me understand songwriting because of him playing Babyface a lot. I don't even know if my dad realized that him just being him, him just living his life, loving what he loved, poured more into me than anybody ever would know.
Just for today, SMILE a little more. Just for today, ask someone how he or she is really doing. Just for today, remember, while some may have it better than you do, there are others whom definitely have it worse than you! Just for today, just let go, just for today.
My dad is so unique in what he does. It's not like I'm taking a torch from him and doing his thing. I hope I've carried from him a little bit of a sense of irony, a little bit of a wink.
If Jesus Christ were to come today, people would not even crucify him. They would ask him to dinner, and hear what he had to say, and make fun of it.
Any more questions?" I ask, poking him gently in the ribs. "Do you still love me any?" Eliot asks, putting his hand over mine. "A little." "A little?" he asks, pulling away from me. "A lot." "How much?" he asks. "More than chocolate chip cookies." "Mmm" he says, kissing my shoulder. "More than walking on the beach." Eliot kisses me on the neck. "More than . . ." I pause, turning to look at him. "More than?" he asks, kissing my lips. I turn toward him. "Anything.
Even in the 1960's, look at the minority percent of those kids being raised without a father. It was around 20 percent. America is at 80% today. I think the government is to blame for that. I think the media is to blame for that. I think you have to look at television shows and sitcoms. How do they portray fathers? They are dopey. They are dumb. They are fat. The mom is hot and the kids make fun of dad, and mom makes fun of dad. We have just relegated his role to be sort of the dumpy loser guy. And we need to get that back.
I like a good pair of jeans, but I also like putting on a nice tux. I'd rather go around in a good pair of jeans that you don't wash every day, because they get more and more comfortable.
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