Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the unbeautiful.
And though you seek in garments the freedom of privacy you may find in them a harness and a chain.
Would that you could meet the sun and the wind with more of your skin and less of your rainment.
For the breath of life is in the sunlight and the hand of life is in the wind.
Some of you say ‘It is the north wind who has woven the clothes we wear.’
And I say, ‘Ay, it was the north wind, but shame was his loom, and the softening of the sinews was his thread.’
And when his work was done he laughed in the forest.
Forget not that modesty is for a shield against the eye of the unclean.
And when the unclean shall be no more, what were modesty but a fetter and a fouling of the mind?
And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
“Clothes as text, clothes as narration, clothes as a story. Clothes as the story of our lives. And if you were to gather all the clothes you have ever owned in all your life, each baby shoe and coat and wedding dress, you would have your autobiography. You could wear, once more, your own life in all its stages, from whatever they wrapped you in when you emerged from the dark red naked warmth of the womb to your death be.Maybe that’s why I love uniforms. It gives me an excuse for why I’m wearing the same clothes day after day,and I had a dream about you. We were going to change the world. But instead you changed your clothes and changed your mind about going to the bar, so I ended up crying on your sofa until my unicorn arrived to take me home