"textiles" poems
It's on the bottle,
On the lit cigarette,
The ***** sheets
And sweaty bodies
That are tangled
Within the emotional
Textiles and figures
That dance on the walls
With each passing car.
It's the cats piano
And the manic that follows.
It's the mouth that opens
And the sound that lingers.
The terms and conditions
Which form when entering into
A loft that isn't yours,
But someone else's.
It's chocolates and cigarettes,
Whiskey and
Of course
A solo sunrise.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC
Clothes of all kinds
on the sidewalks
sold for crazy cheap prices.
Kids and old people alike
scramble fast towards through mountains
of bargains, this once inaccessible
and highly prized scene of Fashion sense,
separating the haves and the have-nots.
I was born with skin color, names, and belongings
that no longer made sense when the time came
to decide and become. I ran to meet a friend at a corner
a long time ago when the Ukay surplus clothing stores
were just starting out.
He carried a plastic of hiking boots
and a pair of stylish jeans. Laughing and smiling
at the exchanges. A pair of running shoes
and a jacket that was already too big for a woman.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 3:13 AM UTC
The apartment hasn’t been cleaned for so long and has housed a depressive in it for the same length of time so that there is a glaze of slime-dirt on the floor, made of dried coffee, hot chocolate, maybe some **** or some spillage from a tube of steroid cream to treat an inflammation that never really goes. The rate of ooze changes?. Clean textiles are piled up on the floor, never having been folded, and mix here and there with ***** practical fatpants that make me look like a geologist and white-white cotton blankets that can be washed on HOT with lots of bleach that I purloined from some mentalhealthfacility. The inbox is full of—is bristling with—remonstrances from Programs for the Nondoer—you haven’t filed, haven’t turnstiled, haven’t had your hologram chip assessed by central CENTRAL intelligence, what is wrong with you. Upon stepping outside there is a beat during which I think maybe somewonder might swirl and buoy but no, just wethumid and ***** sidewalks cruddy and Haitians and quasi-Haitians muttering “taxitaxitaxi” in front of their Gypsy conveyances with their dubious certifications. I should go for a ride in one, a dubious passenger for a dubious palanquin. I tried the library but it was too hot and decrepit and too filled with Books For African-Americans, which always ****** me off; are only African-Americans going to read Wright or Douglass or Brooks? Everyone is overrated, anyway, movies and theater and the moribund beat of commerce, and as the dangerous autos pass, sometimes not running you over, you can see morechange in the pockets of the shareholders of BeePee and Iacocca Coach-Wirx. Any friendliness exhibited seems to contain an underovertone of You’re Not Included Whiteboy White ****** Ghost ***** all archaic names I’ve been almost astounded to be called usually while balancing on tiptoe on some lurching, roaring dieselbus, grinding past off-off-off brand groceries that do a dubious business. While making my police report I wink at a sevenyearold boy and I get a lustrous wink back butalas this is not enough to beat back those slurrycolored brainfazes.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 2:09 PM UTC
High rises burst from soft Earth’s flesh
Was it even ready for us?
From an extraterrestrial’s perspective we’re a disease upon this gentle cerulean Elysium
I’m living in the mouth of duality
I hear it speak as I leave my block and give a peace sign to the abandoned residences in progress
On the block I currently live, the sidewalk is cracked into drunken mazes and yet
Directly across, the neighbors stand upon freshly minted asphalt and into a metropolitan construct made for the modern brain: built in amenities, contemporary textiles and garage parking
Are we next?
To be bought and sold, if so, can we at least have a plan for the residents?
Will tenants be invited to the newborn paradise? We have the budget to feed cement trucks faster than hungry mouths. It’s become a bad habit
yet I sit by the man-made imperfections
hoping someone cares enough to drip their Eden into the palms of my neighbors
If time will tell I’ve been getting quite the silent treatment
Travel a little deeper and….
Cosmopolitan crossroads coexist with beggars and lost folk….
Since when was the speech divided between affluent and broke?
"IDK?" The duality replies
I thought you’d say that.
Aug 4, 2021
Aug 4, 2021 at 6:14 PM UTC
It's all about contexts and
I only want there to be one.
All the "I've been done that's".
It's all miscommunications.
I haven't been done anything in a while.
Take me with you.
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
I'll have a hard time forgiving
The Art Students who were
marinated in cynicism
And left to bake in the hot sun
With brown sugar
sliding down their throats
Who speak only the language
of French
And the language
of Artistic *** and Textiles
And
of course
The boys with the floppy hair
Who **** vinegar into scratched up sinks
And snorted ******* off of the eyelashes
of diet-coke-head-high-school girls
Who grew up
Grew their hair
And let their cheeks sink like ships
Into the cluttered caverns of their mouths
These girls are always wide-awake
and fast-asleep
And they never get drunk off of
incandescent light
And never remember to turn off
the tap before they go to sleep
But not in their beds
'Cus their heads
told their necks
They didn't need the support
Jul 19, 2011
Jul 19, 2011 at 8:42 PM UTC
How you know him: Gurung’s label, established in 2009, reimagines traditional textiles with a sportswear attitude. January Jones, First Lady Michelle Obama, and Oprah Winfrey have taken memorable turns in his fiery red gowns.
What’s new: Gurung is teaming up with Toms this month with exclusive designs to raise funds for Nepal’s recovery from the 2015 earthquake. For each pair of shoes sold, $5 will go to Gurung’s Shikshya Foundation to support education and relief efforts.
What does heritage mean to you?
When I left Nepal and told people I wanted to be a fashion designer, they thought I was crazy. I didn’t know anyone here. But I still remember coming up to the Midtown Tunnel and seeing all the skyscrapers for the first time, and I finally felt that I was home. I became myself in America, but Nepal gave me my core. The reason I am grounded and pragmatic is simply that I was brought up this way.
What was your childhood like there?
I was born in Singapore and grew up in Nepal, where I went to an all-boys Catholic school. I was different and made aware of it. It was a challenging time, but I had an incredible relationship with my family that helped me. Trekking became a kind of escape, and I was always inspired by the Patan Museum, near my house. I still go back for the memories attached.
How is Nepal reflected in your designs for Toms, and also your foundation work?
The ikat pattern is called dhaka, a hand-loomed weave that I wanted to modernize as a digital print. Black, white, and red are very typical of Newari women [from Kathmandu Valley] and my favorite colors, which I used in my first collection. Five years ago, when I started getting all this attention, I started Shikshya with a focus on education as a way to give back. Since the 2015 earthquake, we have raised more than $1 million to help rebuild, but the process is slower than people think, and the world’s attention turns to someplace else. So it’s my job with everything I do to keep awareness alive.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC
I used to think love was a smile, but
How could somebody like me know love?
I believed that the amount you smiled at someone
Symbolized the amount of love and affection
You felt for them.
[People would couple up so that they could smile at each other more often by spending more time together.]
I see the places where love is almost invisible.
How could somebody like me know love?
I see where people frown and yell at each other
And the ones who love are much too
Afraid to smile.
I know that I am not alone.
How could somebody like me know love?
Poets and romatics are always searching
For the words and images and songs that
Would define it.
I do not want to be called a poet
How could somebody like me know love?
I don’t weave words into beautiful textiles
That are decorated with the shapes and colors
Of the soul.
I enjoy reading poems and stories, but
How could somebody like me know love?
I have read novels about getting the girl
And poems about the cold dark empty
Unrequited love.
I don’t know what I think love is anymore.
How could somebody like me know love?
I have never felt so beautiful a thing
In my world or fear and dysfunctional
Independence.
I have felt great love, but not the romantic kind.
How could somebody like me know love?
I am willing to sacrifice anything for those close to me
But I know there is more to this concept than
Deep friendship.
I don’t even know what “like” is.
How could somebody like me know love?
On the cusp of adulthood, my lack of knowledge
Leads me to fear that I am nearly too old
For naivety.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 9:00 PM UTC
In midday I watched the children play
on the west side of town
outside my classroom window.
I thought how bright the paper is inside
with blues and limes and how proud
the colors stand within the skin to be
a pioneer for the small and tender.
With the last of the spiders wiped
with pencil textiles I could hear
these tiny howls, a gathering of five boys
throwing around a football remaining invisible
behind thumb greased glass.
Surely children’s beady-eyes bright in hopes
for resulted gutting knees and grass filled mouths
is a life lesson of it’s own.
But, outside is a war and I am watching
against a patchy globe rondure the blur
of a boy beaten down around the ball;
the white lace shinning off
a sunlit fire pit of loss.
It was like watching nerves of growth
as an oceans current; the ripples
carrying them along onto an islands sand.
The red shirted boy holding onto himself,
clenching for breathe while the others like flies
when surrounding the pig; hovering over meat
raw and stiff.
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 1:36 AM UTC
Smoking fog.
Distant pictures.
Hilltop structures.
Emerald seas.
Golden beaches.
Out of reach.
City lights.
Overnighters.
Streaming music.
Threading textiles.
Suitcases.
Double faces.
Disgraceful.
Disgusting.
Fairies flutter by in fairy stories.
Masquerading as bright red butterflies.
(c)Livvi
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 11:05 AM UTC
All my windows are open
Thin white textiles wave slowly
Breeze without a hint of chill
Brings outside inside
Rarely a comfortable
Thing in this country
At ten past midnight
The air is so pure
Out here
When I sleep
Even my dreams
Feel clean
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 6:13 PM UTC
Diciembre ha congelado su aliento de dos filos,
y lo resopla desde los cielos congelados,
como una llama seca desarrollada en hilos,
como una larga ruina que ataca a los soldados.
Nieve donde el caballo que impone sus pisadas
es una soledad de galopante luto.
Nieve de uñas cernidas, de garras derribadas,
de celeste maldad, de desprecio absoluto.
Muerde, tala, traspasa como un tremendo hachazo,
con un hacha de mármol encarnizado y leve.
Desciende, se derrama como un deshecho abrazo
de precipicios y alas, de soledad y nieve.
Esta agresión que parte del centro del invierno,
hambre cruda, cansada de tener hambre y frío,
amenaza al desnudo con un rencor eterno,
blanco, mortal, hambriento, silencioso, sombrío.
Quiere aplacar las fraguas, los odios, las hogueras,
quiere cegar los mares, sepultar los amores:
y se va elevando lentas y diáfanas barreras,
estatuas silenciosas y vidrios agresores.
Que se derrame a chorros el corazón de lana
de tantos almacenes y talleres textiles,
para cubrir los cuerpos que queman la mañana
con la voz, la mirada, los pies y los fusiles.
Ropa para los cuerpos que pueden ir desnudos,
que pueden ir vestidos de escarchas y de hielos:
de piedra enjuta contra los picotazos rudos,
las mordeduras pálidas y los pálidos vuelos.
Ropa para los cuerpos que rechazan callados
los ataques más blancos con los huesos más rojos.
Porque tienen el hueso solar estos soldados,
y porque son hogueras con pisadas, con ojos.
La frialdad se abalanza, la muerte se deshoja,
el clamor que no suena, pero que escucho, llueve.
Sobre la nieve blanca, la vida roja y roja
hace la nieve cálida, siembra fuego en la nieve.
Tan decididamente son el cristal de roca
que sólo el fuego, sólo la llama cristaliza,
que atacan con el pómulo nevado, con la boca,
y vuelven cuanto atacan recuerdos de ceniza.
1.3k
Xanax and textiles soothe your savage beast.
Roam through the aisles and lose yourself.
Blissed out ignorance while money is spent.
Oh look, a sale! Screams the internal bi-polar.
Retail is your therapy and I am your psychiatrist.
Folding your ***** laundry into color coded displays.
Prozac on clearance, aisle 13.
Cover your sorrows in piles and dreams.
1/4/2016
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 11:43 PM UTC
That's funny. Tears or shouts to ... ... Terner Thierry, "is the myth of an apologist, probably his first ***** event and it's hard to change it,
but Benny Nijmein and Sebastian ... ... ... .... .. .. ..... ..... ....... ......... .
... ... ... .. .. .. .. .. ... ... ... Advisers to the United States Employment Agency have offices in Europe, Washington, Nigeria, Iran, Russia and the Federal Republic of Ethiopia, both in the center and in two ... The trees of Olivia
are new "good" ***** Indian Lakes is a company, but Maria, 20, Yahoo, Google and user codes are more important than others, ******* and others are not ... ... ... ... Vash ... ... players, Marie Cookie Online, United States, Beijing, Russia, Africa, Jordan, Nigeria, username and phone number 1 ... .. .. .. .... ... ... ..... ....... ....... ..... ... .. .......... .... . .. .. .. ..... ..... ..... .. .. .. ... ... ... ... ... ... .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ...... .. ...
The keys of Cebele, United States, BGG, YouTube, February 1, 20, Yahoo, Nigeria, Russia, Africa, Jordan, Iran, Google, Yahoo, usernames and phone numbers ...... ....... ..... ..... ..... ....... ... ... ... ... ... This is not the first time for the poor: plastic, textiles, ... plastic and more. What is plastic music, the baby and the brush? Google, Mary, George, Music, South Africa, Henry Kiro College, February 1, Yahoo, Google, Mary, Nigeria, Russia, Latvia, Jordan, Google and Google ... ...... .. .. .. .. no plastic foam. First song in China. Google, Yahoo, etc., searches on Google (children) and ... or on February 1, 2008, Sunday, June, username, fifth year and No. 1. ... ... doctor .. ... .. ... ... ... ... ... ... [...]. .. [misleading error or misuse]. Documents Dyebat What a fool, dach, small, coconut and elephant, Asian, mango, sweet, sweet potato, cheese, dance, simple Mormons, nifty found, dodo, balloon, golf, jubilink, bubbles, gallop, crystallum, mushrooms, Kelts, Tarsis, Red Jumps, Soupo, Nabal, Peanut Butter or Casava.
He heard this story in the days of Moses' messenger. Path. Your teacher taught that you have the same words for children. Here are some tips to help you get the most out of the box. Thanks for the wonderful things! Thanks
for encouraging us. Fraud, theft, basketball, students, staff, streets, midnight hair. - 321.6 Kicks Sparkling - BBC TV, Best Director. Neir, two minors, mild lactose intolerance, 1.2 million visits: Depression of muscular transmission Up to four extremes, Jazz traders, ***** Press and 10 minutes of salary: 882.1kg Appear - 267.9 kg With their NEWS - Horrible problems, ****** and consequences; 10 minutes of Abuse 481.8 FU See K - It is not the first music in Greenland or in India.
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 11:02 PM UTC
Ace fashion designer Rajesh Pratap Singh, who recently collaborated with Kullu-based handloom weavers Bhuttico for a collection, says he is passionate about the handloom industry which is his source of inspiration. Rajesh Pratap and Bhuttico’s fashionable affair was held in Kullu last week and highlighted the farm-to-fashion journey of Merino wool which is part of the Woolmark Company’s Grown In Australia, Made In India initiative.
“I am extremely passionate about the handloom industry as it is the primary source of my inspiration. I love the versatility of Merino wool, especially since it’s so easy to work with and supports various techniques and blends,” Rajesh Pratap said in a statement.
The designer, who is known for using Indian textiles and for working with ikat, presented a menswear and womenswear collection. The special line focused on the handloom journey of Bhuttico and their rich legacy.
The collection was a juxtaposition of clean lines and colourful weaves, and highlighted Rajesh Pratap’s signature minimal aesthetics and intense construction.
The designer feels “the fashion fraternity has constantly been striving to highlight the textile and handloom industry in India”.
“Owing to our country’s rich heritage each state adds another dimension of culture which is also captured beautifully by our weaves,” he said.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-canberra | www.marieaustralia.com/plus-size-formal-dresses
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 2:53 AM UTC
I am old chinese fireworks
Lit to fly and ready to burst
Handcarved dragon maw to the moon
Not a fire in a sky too low, too soon.
Not falling flames for the world
To wonder,
And splendor,
Then routinely return
To that smoke
stack
stacked
for Mars.
"Man, we're gonna need that moon sometime soon"
"Yup, since we're already almost halfway there,"
they
say.
Was the last I heard before
my fuse.
Turned to fuel for a change of language
As I seek to speak
With Lady Luna's gentle carriage
We came to an agreement,
a little one sided,
Cause she is always oh so terribly inviting,
Now falling fragments for the world
To quake in its plates
And gush its wailing gale
Then her waters roil a riot
Upon smouldering creatures
That have got coal for eyes,
And gold for glasses,
Blind.
To this Earthen texture of past masses
Mastering textiles upon any form, or ghost,, of carcass,,,
Although Gaia may bury and forget
I must reveal Luna's barren
parapet
As a flame is all that I see
Ways to show what a flame can be
Earth learns to burn, for me, and we.
Yet little, brittle, Mother Moon belongs to the sea.
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 5:58 PM UTC
“And only the azure painted sky to shake the rain from its sound,” so the plain falls, opening its mouth through a bed of headstones dotted with the hollowed trunks of magnolias and cedar at afternoon and that cameo of calamansi velour interwoven with the softest glaucous velvet. Inside that whirlpool of sacrosanct textiles a blur, that shocking shrill of coolness catches the skin- this hole-covered schmata oozing cesious acronychal threads pull tight across the hooves, branches, and stream. Only the thin repelling flume of winter’s height eschews this ianthine material over the sinews and map-lined bones. A corpse shortening its gaze, eyes stone-free, empty of nictitation. Nothing stings more than autumn’s filemot sins scraping sideways down a tiled balcony, and the dove’s beg like circus rats, shaped by the finite breaths of decade’s old poetry edging its moods like a bold inflammatory conflagration of the de-evolution. While the fulvous trammeled dirt abounds.
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 4:40 PM UTC
It's about fashion, fabric and one of the most fantastic days in a couple's life.
For the fifth year, the MTSU Department of Human Sciences and Oaklands Mansion are partners in presenting "Wedding Dresses through the Decades." The exhibit is slated for Sunday, Jan. 10, through Sunday, March 6, at the mansion, 900 N. Maney Ave. in Murfreesboro.
"We are building a tradition that links generations," said Deborah Belcher, chair of the human sciences department. "The historic details and family stories are exquisite, heartwarming and engaging."
A broad diversity of styles in the exhibit represents the changing tastes and mores of American society.
"The Textiles, Merchandising and Design program at MTSU maintains a 750-plus piece collection of historic garments, and we'll have four of our wedding gowns on display," said Teresa King, a professor in the human sciences department.
Those four gowns are from the years 1860, 1891, 1900 and 1912. Overall, the display includes wedding dresses from 1947 through today, including the 2008 gown of WSMV-TV anchor/reporter Demetria Kalodimos, an original design by Rosie Woodruff of Textile Fabrics in Nashville.
"The TXMD program also offers a course entitled 'History of Fashion,' which introduces students to the study of garments and accessories throughout history," said King. "Students will have the opportunity to visit the Oaklands wedding gown exhibit and see history unfold as told from a bridal history perspective."
In addition, King said students from the "Fashion Illustration" course have visited previous exhibits and sketched original renditions of wedding gowns from various periods.
"Both experiences allow students to apply the knowledge gained from these TXMD courses," King said.
In addition, items from the MTSU collection will be on display in windows in the Learning Resources Center and the Ellington Human Sciences Building on campus beginning in mid-January after students return for the spring 2016 semester.
These garments will include two dresses from the 1970s and a man's suit and a woman's suit from the 1940s.
read more:http://www.marieaustralia.com
www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 12:33 AM UTC
Umbridging the gap
and the platitudes of word-whores
as well as the Encyclopedic pimps of posh
spiced with lingual ice...
Because I am a simpleton
with a thirst for the Beloved
and its discriptive meanings, I am
scholarly lacking
Juxtaposing my script to refer
to references Grecian or urn,
enflagrante artisan
spurts with superlatives and
personified iambics of rhetorical lines
limned with deep shagrin
because my verbs are linear
even when my chicken scratch
struck midnight a match stick
flame to illuminate
my poetic fluffer's formulae
schisms from my own mind's magician hat...
Not to be-little or slight those hands walking
that yellow the pages
with slothly seeking rote
for meandering bibliographies
a librarian's histology fingers for Captain
Cook / exploration's verbose
exploitation if at most
connecting dots treasured maps
of purposeful / placement for imagery
in the textiles
of poetry's destined and enlightening
cloak & dagger or a Throw
or a goose-down warmth
of Love / to blanket the night away
just as would a mother's / tucking in
from the day's overwhelming
lack of reverances, referenced
oh how to closely listen / or live
beyond the history
to be in the moment
comparing and sharing
our joys and the power of now . . . keep it simple
because I am a simpleton with a thirst
with a thirst for the Beloved,
the Truth of a promise / endowed Tao of Us. . .
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
Old King Cole needs no introduction.
The lands cheer when he rises from his throne.
Old King Cole was indeed a merry old soul.
He fancied wine and women,
Merlot and money.
Feasts fit for a king can always be found in his halls.
There once was fiddlers four.
That is until Old King Cole found one using his pipe and wife.
He is very protective of that pipe.
No,
Old King Cole needs no introduction.
Step out of line and you'd face the gallows.
Old King Cole was a merry old soul,
who ruled with an iron fist.
Old King Cole believed it was better to be feared than loved.
His garments were made of the finest textiles and jewels.
His people starved and he had more bowls.
Old King Cole was a merry old soul.
Indeed.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 5:02 PM UTC
I’m sitting in the dark and the sound of the rain falling is just right and silence settles to whatever volume is current. And as you become increasingly aware it’s like all of the oxygen is ****** out of the world and yet you can still breathe.
The power in that grasp. Glimpse. Moment of ‘being’. An active moment of happening now. The current. And it is so titillating, mesmerizing, and transfixing that you suspend time to really see it. It presents itself in many different ways and oh how truly altering they are.
I love the ones with no talking. No words anywhere for me to hear whether I want to or not. Just colors, sounds, textiles, smells. A unique constantly changing thing.
God I love these moments and I intend to go back but the need to express it overtook long enough to use words to write this. I am now disengaging.
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 10:53 PM UTC
Roaming into a scarlet galaxy
Neptunus whales flying above
The elder fates their riders are
Approaching near an eerie gleam
Enormous stalactites shimmering azure
Its core lies into my unconscious ocean
Colored universal textiles mingled
Rays connecting the pillars
A way for the planets to touch each other
Transcendental energies our pavillion
Your sigh resonates into the other side
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 8:50 PM UTC
What drew you to this job?
Truthfully, survival
I lie and say
I’ve always been passionate about textiles
Like the pretentious clothing this company creates
My answer is carefully tailored to appeal to my market audience
Yesterday I was passionate about data entry
Tomorrow I’ll be passionate about customer retention and management
I’ve learnt to lick the boot that pins me down in place
What does your dream job look like?
I don’t bother telling them that I no longer dream of labour
I recite the appropriate buzzwords
Sense of progression
Work-life balance
Meaningful connections
Bile rises in my throat
What do you hope to achieve in life?
My father wasted away his best years in a job that landed him in hospital
A heart attack and redundancy payout all the thanks he got
All so he could eventually retire and do what he actually loved; woodworking
He’d never been able to make a career of it
He couldn’t find a ‘market’ for it
Maybe it was because he never learnt to market himself, to sell himself
Not in that sense
Instead he sold himself
He sold his body to a timber mill
Maybe he thought it would be temporary
But then he had to give up his woodworking
Because working the wood at the mill left him exhausted
He had to sell his soul for decades until the system finally let him be
I want something different than what the system offers
But there is no alternative to the system
It offers me 50 flavours of consumption
32 different shades of participation
But no option not to consume
Not to participate
I no longer have lofty ideals
When I was young I wanted to be a famous writer
I wanted to travel and see the world
Now I just want to exist
But even my very existence comes at a cost
To merely exist I am still expected to participate
To consume and be consumed
Sell myself to whoever will pay
for what little I have to offer
Thank you for your time
Sep 25, 2020
Sep 25, 2020 at 12:39 AM UTC
The 41-year-old actress, who launched her The Eva Longoria Holiday Collection for The Limited earlier this week - following the success of her debut collection in July his year - has admitted she "loves festive colours" and glitzy products for the festive season.
Speaking about her wardrobe choices in a video posted on her Instagram account, the brunette beauty said: "I really look forward to gathering with loved ones, whether its family gatherings, or work place gatherings, there are so many events that happen during the holiday season and you need the wardrobe to go with that.
"During the holidays I like to gravitate towards embellishment [and] colour. I like festive colours, I love red, I love green, I love winter white, something with an A-line, something body conscious, something that looks great with a heel."
And the former 'Desperate Housewives' star has admitted the shape of clothes and how they fall is "everything" to her.
Speaking about her design preferences, and the reason behind the materials she has used in her latest collection, she said: "Fit is everything to me, that's why I love to use textiles and materials."
Eva - who married José Bastón earlier this year - believes romance can be expressed through fashion.
She explained: "I think romance is expressed in so many different ways sometimes you can get dressed up in a nice dress, a little black dress, or something with colour and go to dinner, or you can stay at home in a cosy t-shirt with some leggings and cuddle up by the fire and watch a movie."
Meanwhile Eva has admitted she is "so excited" her new products exclusive to the fashion house are "finally here" and are available to buy now.
She took to social media to announce the news of her latest line, which saw her share an image of her sporting the red floral swing dress from her exclusive capsule.
Alongside the post she wrote: "So excited to announce that The Eva Longoria Holiday Collection is finally here!Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 3:33 AM UTC