Top 11 Brogues Quotes & Sayings

I love when people wear flowers in their own way, like when I see someone wearing a floral dress with brogues and a jacket. It's incongruous.

Good shoes are important. I wear English brogues in a wide fitting. They last me years.

At the beginning of my career I was going through a really weird phase of dressing in boys clothes. I would only wear one American Apparel T-shirt and shorts and brogues the whole year round. Not the same T-shirt, obviously, but one style of American Apparel T-shirt. I think I was going through a tomboy stage.

Buying a pair of shoes is one of the most optimistic acts I know, next to falling in love. I like nothing better than to see an old man wearing a brand new pair of brogues or cap-toed oxfords, preferably jaunty orange-brown, unscuffed, heels unworn. We want to be here tomorrow, but buying new shoes, like falling in love, says I plan on being here tomorrow.

I was temping at Harrods. I'd wake from the double bed I shared with my best friend, leave the house in a slick-looking trench coat and polished brogues without a hair out of place. I was complimented for looking so presentable.

Outside of white button-down oord cloth shirts, Trickers brogues, 501s, and Ray-Ban Aviators, the single item of clothing that I have had in my closet consistently since 1982 is a pair of black-and-white checked Vans. They are the lazy man's shoe - perfect for dog walking and security lines at the airport.

I like skinny jeans with Nikes or brogues.

I'm not a big heel person anyways, I'll wear them on the red carpet, but I've always been the one who loves loafers and brogues.

I think the absence of socks on men wearing suits and brogues is a problem. They'll live to regret that.

I'm Irish as hell: Kelly on one side, Shanley on the other. My father had been born on a farm in the Irish Midlands. He and his brothers had been shepherds there, cattle and sheep, back in the early 1920s. I grew up surrounded by brogues and Irish music, but stayed away from the old country till I was over 40. I just couldn't own being Irish.

It was about eleven o'clock in the morning, mid October, with the sun not shining and a look of hard wet rain in the clearness of the foothills. I was wearing my powder-blue suit, with dark blue shirt, tie and display handkerchief, black brogues, black wool socks with dark little clocks on them. I was neat, clean, shaved and sober, and I didn't care who knew it. I was everything the well-dressed private detective ought to be. I was calling on four million dollars.