A Quote by James Turrell
My aunt was Frances Hodges, who in the Fifties was the editor of 'Seventeen' and later one of the creators of 'Mademoiselle.' She was my Auntie Mame; she loved culture. She was a Quaker, but she became a milliner against all Quaker logic - they feel that fashion and art are vanities - because she loved fashion.
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An old woman I loved very much when I was young - the wife of Jean Villard - she's just reciting poetry all the time, which is beautiful because it means she went back to the world of poetry that she loved when she was young. That's all she does - she almost doesn't recognize her children, but she recites Valéry and Baudelaire. So what? We're the ones who are suffering. She's not.
My passion for fashion originated in my mother's closet. She was a woman who loved fashion. She enjoyed dressing up a lot, and she had a closet that was like her sacred room that belonged only to her. She wouldn't let us go in and play there very often.
And yet, even as she spoke, she knew that she did not wish to come back. not to stay, not to live. She loved the little yellow cottage more than she loved any place on earth. but she was through with it except in her memories.
My mother loved fashion. She was a beauty and had enough sewing skills that she could re-create the looks in magazines. She also was enormously charismatic.
When I was about 13, I met the coolest, chicest young woman I had ever seen. She was a neighbor of mine who became a fashion designer and had a small design studio. She taught me so many things about style and fashion. I had always loved making things, so when she told me about her career in fashion, I knew I had found my path.
She loved with so much passion as she loved with ignorance. She did not know whether it were good or evil, beneficent or dangerous, necessary or accidental, eternal or transitory, permitted or prohibited: she loved.
Ultimately I think I learned a lot from my mother - the way she used fashion to make herself feel better; it was a tool she had and she used it very well. Fashion for her wasn't so far as an escape, but certainly a time where she would sit on her own and prepare what she wanted to wear the next day - it turned into bit of a ritual.
The Middle Eastern woman is sophisticated; she is modern. She knows fashion more than anyone else, and she is really sexy, and she does know how to live fashion, and I think we can all learn from each other.
My mom is one of those people that you feel honored to meet. And no matter who you are, you fall in love with her because she is spiritual, she's inspiring, she's strong, she's funny, she's creative, she's talented... she's everything that I want to be.
She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful.
My mother was a great typist. She said she loved to type because it gave her time to think. She was a secretary for an insurance company. She was a poor girl; she'd grown up in an orphanage, and she went to a business college - and then worked to put her brothers through school.
Ahana does lots of things; that's the problem with her. She is a fashion designer and is also writing some scripts. She doesn't want to do the regular commercial films. So she has decided that only if she really likes something, then she will take it up.
She said she married an architect, who kept her warm and safe and dry. She would like to say she loved the man, but she didn't like to lie.
She comes to me when she wants to be fed. And after I feed her -- guess what -- she's off to wherever she wants to be in the house, until the next time she gets hungry. She's smart enough to know she can't feed herself. She's actually a very smart cat. She gets loved. She gets adoration. She gets petted. She gets fed. And she doesn't have to do anything for it, which is why I say this cat's taught me more about women, than anything my whole life.
She had to face the fact that she couldn't protect everyone she loved. She couldn't solve every problem.
At first, she loved nought else but flowers,
And then-she only loved the rose;
And then-herself alone; and then-
She knew not what, but now-she knows.
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