Pronta e a uso, com o prazer que dÃ¡ usar nÃ£o o que se comprou numa loja mas o que se fez com cinco paus e trÃªs fios.
I just had a coat come home from the tailorâ€™s. Ah me! Who am I that should wear this coat? It was fitted upon one of the devilâ€™s angels about my size. Of what use that measuring of me if he did not measure my character, but only the breadth of my shoulders, as it were a peg to hang it on. This is not the figure that I cut. This is the figure the tailor cuts. That presumptuous and impertinent fashion whispered in his ear, so that he heard no word of mine. As if I had said, â€œNot my will, O Fashion, but thine be done.â€
Do diÃ¡rio de Henry David Thoreau, a 14 de Janeiro de 1854.
Nothing that belongs to me is any measure of me; on the contrary, it’s a limit, a barrier, and a perfectly arbitrary one. Certainly, the clothes which, as you say, I choose to wear, don’t express me; and heaven forbid the should!’
‘You dress very well,’ interposed Madame Merle, skillfully.
‘Possibly, but I don’t care to be judged by that. My clothes may express the dressmaker, but they don’t express me. To begin with, it’s not my own choice that I wear them; they are imposed upon me by society.’
Henry James, The Portrait of a Lady, 1881.