A Quote by Gabourey Sidibe

In the seventh grade, I was about to leave wearing a jumper, when my mom said she could see my panty line. So I just wore stockings. That day I broke my ankle, and the EMS cut my tights off. I got a full cast with no stockings on and no panties.
One hot summer night in San Francisco, roughly 10 years ago, I was sitting in a crowded Pacific Heights restaurant when Alice Adams walked in with a man. She was about 60 at the time, and she was wearing a skirt that fell an inch or so above her knees and flat heels without stockings.
Children are grateful when Santa Claus puts in their stockings gifts of toys or sweets. Could I not be grateful to Santa Claus when he put in my stockings the gift of two miraculous legs? We thank people for birthday presents of cigars and slippers. Can I thank no one for the birthday present of birth?
When we were children we were grateful to those who filled our stockings at Christmas time. Why are we not grateful to God for filling our stockings with legs?
I've got this inflatable Darth Vader that I stole off the roof of a Burger King. I went in and asked the girl at the counter if I could have it, and she said she didn't care, but she wasn't going to get me a ladder or anything like that. So I just kind of pulled myself up there, cut it loose and took off.
With my skin, I have to avoid direct contact with the sun, so that, combined with my mom being conservative, meant I grew up wearing stockings under shorts and long sleeves under tank tops. It was kind of embedded in me that I was supposed to be covering up.
I always thought those old drab clothes from 'Silk Stockings' were the worst things I wore.
Over-the-knee socks remind me of the 1920s, silent films, and the stars of the era who wore the rolled-down stockings. They sort of referenced that in 'Cabaret,' when Liza Minnelli was singing 'Mein Herr,' and I love the way she looks in that scene.
I grew up just outside New York City in a very white town. In seventh grade, I got called Macy Gray. It really affected me, so I got a weave and wore my hair straight.
In the time it takes for her to walk from the bathhouse at the seawall of Fortune's Rocks, where she has left her boots and has discreetly pulled off her stockings, to the waterline along which the sea continually licks the pink and silver sand, she learns about desire.
I love New York. I first came here with my Mom when I was in 9th grade. I took the subway for the first time and the doors closed between me and my Mom, and I was so scared. I could see her through the window and I didn't know what to do. I got off at the next stop and she caught up to me, but I couldn't stop crying.
My mom gave me a good piece of advice. She said never marry a man thinking you can change him, and I think that starts from your first date when you're in the seventh grade onwards. Women are fixers so we have to just not fix. Don't fix.
Our conception of 1950s underwear is a lovely vintage aesthetic, but actually, wearing stockings with no elastic and a girdle was heavy duty.
In seventh grade I had a magical teacher, her name was Mrs. Fried. She wore only pink, she drove a pink Mustang, and she was half out of her head. But very inspiring. And one day she said, "Take out a paper and pen and write something about peace." For some reason I wrote a poem on Noah - I don't know why I chose Noah - and it turned out it was for a contest for the UN. I ended up winning and reading the poem in front of the UN. I remember Mrs. Fried telling me, "When you write your first book, dedicate it to me." That was like, "Whoa."
You can blame my mom for some of my worst fashion moments. She used to dress me and my sister in a lot of patterns. Like, she would put me in striped stockings with a floral dress. Like, why are you doing that to me?
When I was growing up my mom was home. She wanted to go to work, but she waited. She was educated as a teacher. The minute my youngest sister went to school full-time, from first grade, mom went back to work. But she balanced her life. She chose teaching, which enabled her to leave at the same time we left, and come home pretty much the same time we came home. She knew how to balance.
My mom is 70, and she's still wearing the things she wore in the 80s. I appreciate people like that, who know who they are and what they like to wear - and have fun with it. Like, you can see that they enjoy expressing themselves.
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