Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
I love crazy, gaudy bling.
The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea.
What is a butterfly? At best He's but a caterpiller drest. The gaudy Fop's his picture just.
I want to see women in pantsuits or two pieces, even something a little bit gaudy. It's so much more exciting than just another nice dress.
I only ever play Vegas one night at a time. It's a hideous, gaudy place; it may not be the end of the world per se, but you can certainly see it from there.
There are no more Elizabeth Taylors. You could be fascinated by her, she lived so many lives, she lived far, she loved the jewels; she had gaudy taste but she had extraordinary talent.
You know you can get gaudy with something, and they didn't do that. To me, I think it's very tasteful, well done, with the silver and gold and the engraving. I think it's very tasteful.
Houston is a place where you have to be the best. Everybody gotta be flashy, flashy. It's not like a gaudy thing, but people definitely put on their best dressed even if they go into Wal-Mart.
A lot of people have said I'd have probably done better in my career if I hadn't looked so cheap and gaudy. But I dress to be comfortable for me, and you shouldn't be blamed because you want to look pretty.
Sometimes Italian fashion, especially in the summer, is bright and gaudy and tarty, so I'd be buying these bright pink and bright orange things, and when I got home, I'd just go, 'What was I thinking? I can't wear this!'
I don't know much about auctions. I sometimes go to previews and see art sardined into ugly rooms. I've gawked at the gaudy prices, and gaped at well-clad crowds of happy white people conspicuously spending hundreds of millions of dollars.
I've been watching 'Pawn Stars' every week for the last year. I like learning about the history behind the items that people bring into the pawnshop. I actually pawned a ring once that a woman sent to me while I was on 'Jerry Springer.' It was really gaudy.
It's high time for the art world to admit that the avant-garde is dead. It was killed by my hero, Andy Warhol, who incorporated into his art all the gaudy commercial imagery of capitalism (like Campbell's soup cans) that most artists had stubbornly scorned.
The last copy of the Chicago Daily News I picked up had three crime stories on its front page. But by comparison to the gaudy days, this is small-time stuff. Chicago is as full of crooks as a saw with teeth, but the era when they ruled the city is gone forever.
To me, it remains incomprehensible that a people who can design the Porsche 911 and sleek, white ice trains, who created the Bauhaus and speak at least three languages at birth, want to own twee Christmas figurines painted in gaudy colours, dress up in Bavarian lederhosen, and eat Haribo gummy bears.
