There's one scene where I took my t-shirt off. I was wearing a t-shirt and a hoodie, and I took my hoodie off and took my t-shirt off to give to the girl because she got her top dirty or something. It was like, why don't I just give her my hoodie - that makes no sense whatsoever! I just took off another layer just to take my top off.
Every time you see someone sticking up a 7-Eleven, the kid's wearing a hoodie. Every time you see a mugging on a surveillance camera or they get the old lady in the alcove, it's a kid wearing a hoodie. You have to recognize that this whole stylizing yourself as a gangsta - you're going to be a gangsta wannabe? Well, people are going to perceive you as a menace,
The early pictures of me you see online, in just T-shirts and hoodies - I'm still that guy with the hoodie. But what you don't get to see in most of those pics is that I had these red clogs on that had, like, eyeballs on the ends of them that I drew on. That speaks a little bit more to what I was going after, stylistically.
I was first influenced by a friend in fifth grade when he brought a Walkman to school and was listening to 'Paradise City' by Guns 'N Roses, which he had concealed within his hoodie. He put the headphones over my ears and I was completely blown away by what I heard. I'll never forget that.
So, what can I do?' I asked. 'Annoy?' I gave him a hurt look. Justus pulled the tip of his hoodie over his eye and lowered his voice. 'It remains to be seen; sometimes it takes years to uncover abilities.' 'Maybe I can't do anything.' His blue eyes flashed up to mine. 'Learner, we are all gifted.
In the '80s, society created a caricature of what a hacker or a programmer looked like: a guy wearing a hoodie, drinking energy drinks, sitting in a basement somewhere coding. Today, programmers look like the men we see in the show 'Silicon Valley' on HBO. If you look at the message girls are getting, it's saying, 'This is not for you.'
I went to private school for a very long time, and we always wore uniforms. Then in third grade, I switched to a public school, so I was so excited to wear what I wanted on the first day. I remember I chose this orange hoodie with a skirt, and it's so funny when I think about it now because my style really hasn't changed that much.
I like the laid-back ladies. Looks are stressed so much these days, and a lot of girls feel they need to do all of these weird and wonderful things to look good, and they really don't. The best-looking girls don't do anything; they just sort of know they're beautiful, especially in jeans and a hoodie.
I spilled my cup of coffee straight onto my crotch. Superior heat retention has its drawbacks. I grimaced as the scalding liquid reached ground zero, but as I did my best to angle my jeans away from the Resnick family's last hope, my seatmate decided to dispose of her hoodie. I juggled two pressing needs: 1) Protect the nethers. 2) Leer
B. Justin Shier
Flirt with the old ladies and you'll be fine, ' I muttered, shoving my stuff into the cubby. He hung his green hoodie on the hooks right beside me. 'Is that how you get by?' 'Doesn't work on the old ladies for me, but the old men on the other hand?' I paused and glanced at my nails. 'Yeah, doesn't work on them either.
Peter eyes his swanky and incredibly dated jacket and fluffs the frills on his sleeves. Outside the window stands a guy in a tattered grey hoodie and cut-offs that slide down to his hips, thus exposing the plaid glory of his boxers. 'Damn pity. If I'd known what crimes I'd be exposed to under the guise of fashion, I may have very well stayed dead.
Let me guess," Eli said, his voice that low, even timbre, as always. "Drinking from kegs also falls under outdoor activity." I just looked at him, standing there in jeans and the same blue hoodie he'd had on the first time I met him. Maybe it was the embarrassment, which had been bad enough before I had an audience, but I was instantly annoyed. I said, "Are we outside?" He glanced round, as if needing to confirm this. "Nope." "Then no." I turned my attention back to the keg.
I was a strange child. I was the kid with funny hair listening to dodgy music [...] I'd come in with my hoodie and skate-shoes, with purple hair under the hood. I got away with it because I spent all my time in the art room, so they figured I was 'artistic'. I was that kind of kid, listening to Green Day and the Deftones and all that kind of thing.
Over the course of the years, I've learned [that] fashion is a fascinating business about selling magic. It is done on the backs of our optimism and our insecurity. It is as much psychology as commerce. But I've also learned that every day we make split second decisions about people based on their attire and those decisions can have powerful implications - see the story of Trayvon Martin and his hoodie. It's important for us to understand how fashion works and how we connect to it.
You monosyllabic Neanderthal, I am not some little helpless female who can't walk across the brewery." He shrugged. "I did what was needed." "What the what?" She dropped the clipboard from beneath the hoodie and shoved her arms through its sleeves before rubbing her hands up and down her arms to warm them. "That doesn't even make sense." Sean doubted there were half-crazed mules more stubborn than Natalie Sweet. "If I hadn't, you would have stayed in that cooler, freezing your ass off until you'd said everything you wanted to say - which, by the way, is usually more words than most people use in a year.
In November 2011, San Francisco magazine ran a story on female entrepreneurs in Silicon Valley and illustrated it by superimposing the featured women's heads onto male bodies. The only body type they could imagine for successful entrepreneurship was wearing a tie or a hoodie. Our culture needs to find a robust image of female success that is first, not male, and second, not a white woman on the phone, holding a crying baby.
I'M ON A HOLLY DAVID I'M ON A CHOPPA NEMESIS I GOT A LOT OF BABIES THEY GO FOR 34 A PIECE I FEEL LIKE TOM BIRDY I GOT THEM NINES IN MY FEET, NIGGA SHOW 'EM I'M ON A HIGH SPEED CHASE I AIN'T GON' LED UP LED UP TAKE THE PENITENTION FUSS TRYNA RUN UP ON MY FUN YOUNG THUGGA PIMPING BITCH FEEL LIKE FUCKING DOUGH OFF AND THE CLOCK TALK LANGUAGE KAMIKAZE ON THE LIMBO I TRAIT MY HOODIE ON SHE SAY SEE ME, SHE NO BINGO I SPIT GEL LIKE BIRD MAN PUT MY STEERING WHEEL IN MIRROR THE KIDS WHO GOT MY SPY FIELD ON WITH BUILDS'ZLS, CAN YOU DIZL? MY DK GOT MY SPOT FILLED WITH BITCHES, CAN YOU DIZL? YOU TALK A MILLION DOLLARS, WHERE YOU PAPER AND YO PISTOL?
Longing was a feeling that was hard to live with. It didn't ask permission. It didn't pay attention to time or place. It was overwhelming and demanding, grasping and selfish. It clouded thoughts or made them too bright, too sharp. Longing demanded unconditional surrender. Lumikki tried to fight it and failed. She didn't want to long and yet she longed. She didn't want to remember, and yet her dreams and her body remembered, reminding her constantly. The longing was physical. It was dizziness. It was a seizing in her belly. It was the need to wrap her arms around herself alone in bed when there was no one else to do it for her. She felt the longing in her fingertips that yearned to stroke, to touch, to caress. The longing made her fingers restless, fiddling with the zipper of her jacket, the strings in her hoodie, fidgeting with whatever little thing happened to her hand. The longing made her teeth bite into her lower lip, leaving it chipped and almost bleeding. She knew she was being stupid. She knew her longing was pointless.
God, you're so sweet.' He holds my face in his hands and kisses me deeply. I slowly unzip his hoodie and touch a hand to his bare chest. I relish in the feel of it. Barely an hour ago I was admiring it from afar, and now it's no longer just a tease. When I slide my hand down to his stomach, he groans and his hands slip just under my shirt. 'So that's why you didn't want to change.' I can feel his smile against my lips. 'You just wanted me to take your clothes off for you.' 'Guilty.' I lift my arms for him to pull it off. Instead of returning to kissing me, his eyes roam down my body. I fight the urge to cover myself; even though my bra is still on, I feel exposed. His hands lightly touch each side along the seam. My breath catches in my throat. Meeting my eyes, he says, 'You're so damn beautiful.' He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss in between my breasts. I shiver at the light touch of his lips to my sensitive skin. If this is how he makes me feel with such little contact, then how will the rest of this feel? The need is building inside like a spark starting a fire.
I watch Ethan try to connect the dots in his head, And suddenly his face falls into a sad smile. "Oh, " he says. And that's all. I walk over to him, my bare feet sinking into the sand as I trudge along. He's grinning at me now, but it's not the usual plastered-on smile he usually has. This one is somehow more authentic. When I'm within a few feet of him, he holds his arms out. "You're going to be such a good leader, " he says. "I'm so proud of you, Five." I embrace Ethan. His arms fold around me as he pats me on the back. He lets out a long, slow sigh and then starts to say something. I cut him off before he can get the words out. I can't stand to hear him say another thing. "Ethan, I'm really sorry about this. But it's for the best." I can feel his body clench as the blade slips out of my forearm sheath and into his back. It slides between his ribs-a lucky shot- then retracts back into my hoodie sleeve. It's over in an instant. I step away from him. He stands frozen, probably in shock. There's a deep spot of read blooming across the right side of his chest where the blade must have broken the skin. Blood drops down from the hidden wrist sheath, running over my right hand before falling from my fingertips to the sand. "It's over, " I murmur, more to myself than to Ethan. He's probably not paying much attention to what I have to say. Tears are welling in his good eye, but I don't know if they're for me or for himself. He blinks once and then falls to the beach with a soft thud.
HlI watch Ethan try to connect the dots in his head, And suddenly his face falls into a sad smile. "Oh, " he says. And that's all. I walk over to him, my bare feet sinking into the sand as I trudge along. He's grinning at me now, but it's not the usual plastered-on smile he usually has. This one is somehow more authentic. When I'm within a few feet of him, he holds his arms out. "You're going to be such a good leader, " he says. "I'm so proud of you, Five." I embrace Ethan. His arms fold around me as he pats me on the back. He lets out a long, slow sigh and then starts to say something. I cut him off before he can get the words out. I can't stand to hear him say another thing. "Ethan, I'm really sorry about this. But it's for the best." I can feel his body clench as the blade slips out of my forearm sheath and into his back. It slides between his ribs-a lucky shot- then retracts back into my hoodie sleeve. It's over in an instant. I step away from him. He stands frozen, probably in shock. There's a deep spot of read blooming across the right side of his chest where the blade must have broken the skin. Blood drops down from the hidden wrist sheath, running over my right hand before falling from my fingertips to the sand. "It's over, " I murmur, more to myself than to Ethan. He's probably not paying much attention to what I have to say. Tears are welling in his good eye, but I don't know if they're for me or for himself. He blinks once and then falls to the beach with a soft thud.
Nico looked very tall and thin wearing a opaque black sweatshirt hoodie and dark inked skinny jeans. His outer physical structure was handsome and gaunt, straight jet black hair razored and clipped in angles, a few purple highlights, and his white skin toned the color of alabaster. She had always liked the slender salamander type. He totally looked punk rock tonight, and that made him look absolutely awesome! A curtain of fog parted in front of him, giving him even more of the illusion as if he was part of a rock band at a rock band concert. Katty now saw Nico with exaggerated clarity. Nico Rocket looked so freakin' hot! He looked so good-looking at times, especially within the dark scenes of rolling fog and a pitchy darkness. She randomly wondered what he looked like before he was bit and turned into a Vampire. Had he been a Renaissance geek just like her? Before she could really examine him and fantasize of what he must have looked like before turning into a Vampire, the fog closed in all around him again, surrounding him with a ring of solitary imprisonment. He now lurked as a shadow among the shadows, disappearing into the illusion of gray's. She didn't like him for not showing up on time, but all had been forgiven as soon as she had seen him all dressed up in his Gothic best. So what if he didn't believe in punctuality? His hotness sure made up for the rest! Through the fog, she saw his bright red eyes pierce through the heaviness of the darkness. He then broke free from the fog, leaving a trail of the thickened smoke lingering far behind, and wide.
Keira D. Skye
YO, CATCH 'EM IN WILLIAMSBURG, I MIGHT KILL HIS BIRD IT'S KINDA LIKE REVENGE OF THE NERDS YOU NIGGAS IS TURDS, I FLUSH ON NIGGAS OVER A COUPLE OF FIGURES, THAT'S MY WORD THIRTY GRAND MAKE A NIGGA SWITCH PLANS REALIZE THAT YA MAN TRYNNA GET YOU A SCAM MY GUN DON'T JAM, IT DRUM ROLL BEER ALL THEY SAW WAS AN UNKNOWN MAN, TAYLOR CONAN BOTH HANDS SQUEEZING HIS THROAT GLANDS, SQUEEZING LIKE COKE CANS FRESH AIR FUND SEASONAL PROGRAM WE THE REASON THEY EVEN KNOW FAM HE WAS BLUE CHEESING IT, EATING OFF OLD JAMS AND WE AIN'T GET PAID FOR SHIT KINDA LIKE WHAT A SLAVE WOULD GET, SHIT I'M BOUT TO GET MY SUGE KNIGHT ON PULL MY HAMMER OUT THE DRAWER, THROW MY HOODIE RIGHT ON I HANG A NIGGA FROM THE TERRACE HE LOOKING LIKE FOOD ALL I NEED IS A BEVERAGE THIRSTY TO PULL THE TRIGGER, FIRST WE WAS NIGGAS NOW I THINK ABOUT HOW TO DUMP THE NIGGA IN THE RIVER FUNNY HOW MONEY CHANGE CLOSE FRIENDS BRAND NEW ATTITUDE, LAYING LOW IN THE BENZ FUCK A FREESTYLE, EVERYTHING COST A FEE NOW LIKE PAPER FOR MY LAWYER, IN CASE I SEE TRIAL TOOK A BOW LIKE RIHANNA, I MADE A PROMISE TO MY OLD EARTH, I'M A BE ALL THAT I CAN BE, MAMA YOU SEE KARMA'S A MUTHAFUCKA, IT'S TONY TUCKER I DON'T TAKE YA BITCH ON DATES, I ONLY FUCK HER THESE OLD SCHOOL NIGGAS IS FUCKING WASHED UP I TIDE CLOROX NIGGAS, SO HOMEY SQUASH WHAT IF I DON'T GET EVERY DOLLAR OF MY BREAD I'M A SEND THE ROTTWEILERS FOR YA HEAD, MUTHAFUCKA
DIS NIGGA, LIKE HE'S SO EXCLUSIVE SOMETIMES DREAMS, PEACE OF PAPER I GOT REAMS WHERE THE D GO?, PUT THAT ON A ROSE NOW YOU PRONOUNCE IT HERO, YOU SEE? LU SEE LIKE LA BREA & PICO, WITH BINOCULARS ON MY PEEPHOLE I FEEL MY BEST WORK WAS ALBUM ZERO NOW WITH DENIRO ITS BOO BOO IN MY BACKYARD AND BEN BURNT DOWN MY GAZEBO THAT DINERO'S A CASINO WIT SPIT IN THE SANDWICH OF THE POLICE THOUGH THEY AIN'T SEE THE STEEL PLATE UP UNDER MY SEAT THOUGH STILL PLAY IT LIKE SHAQUILLE BUT I CAN FREE THROW I AIN'T PLAYING BUT I COMPETE, I AIN'T A PLAYER BUT I'M COMPLETE AND THAT'S THE WIN WIN A MASON MIND CAN'T SIGN IF THE PEN'S TEMPLAR NIGHT VISION ON WHITE LINEN IS STILL GREEN PEACE OF PAPER I GOT REAMS, MAKE IT RAIN TO MAKE EM SMILE, NOW RAKE IT INTO PILES AND GO BUY YA SELF SOME STYLE, PROM NIGHT/CAT WALK PREPARED THE SUIT FOR WEEKS, OR EFFORTLESS AS A PARISIAN WALKING DOWN THE STREET, I AIN'T IN IT I'M JUST WALKING ROUND SOME BEATS TONGUE IN CHEEK, JUST TALKING ROUND SOME TEETH NEIGHBORHOOD WATCHING MADE OF GOOD OPTIONS, MASTERMIND TIMES NEIGHBORHOOD HOODIE TAKE THE HOOD SHOPPING BACK TRACK TO THE STOLEN PLATES WHAT'S A CLOSED WALLET TO AN OPEN SAFE SAY YOUR GRACE PEACE OF PAPER/CUP OF JAYZUS WHAT WE WRITING? THESE AIN'T ENTENDRES THESE ARE SECRET INDICTMENTS LITTE SECRET EXCITEMENTS FOR WILLING MINDS I'M FEELING FINE BALLING HARD AND KILLING RHYMES KNOCKING OFF BIGS AND STEALING SHINES HEY SHAWTY IS IT A CRIME? TO DMV EVERYTIME UNTIL I GIVE EM LICENSE THEY WAITING ON LINES PEACE OF PAPER I'M KERRY JAMES COMMISSIONS FLY AS THE CONSTITUTION AS A PLANE PEACE OF PAPER CUP OF JAYZUS WHAT WE DOING? PIZZA LASERS/ CUP OF RAZORS WHAT YOU CHOOSING? CHOOSY MOTHERS CHOOSE THE SMOOTHEST PEANUT BUTTERS AND MORE COGNIZANT FATHERS DO GEORGE WASHINGTON CARVER A BREAK FROM THE PAPER IT MEANS DO YOU IDENTIFY MORE WITH WHAT'S BEING MADE OR THE MAKER? I'M WHAT'S BEING CHASED I'M NOT THE CHASER CUP OF JAYZUS PEACE OF PAPE
I landed on my side, my hip taking the brunt of the fall. It burned and stung from the hit, but I ignored it and struggled to sit up quickly. There really was no point in hurrying so no one would see. Everyone already saw A pair of jean-clad legs appeared before me, and my suitcase and all my other stuff was dropped nearby. "Whatcha doing down there?" Romeo drawled, his hands on his hips as he stared down at me with dancing blue eyes. "Making a snow angel, " I quipped. I glanced down at my hands, which were covered with wet snow and bits of salt (to keep the pavement from getting icy). Clearly, ice wasn't required for me to fall. A small group of girls just "happened by", and by that I mean they'd been staring at Romeo with puppy dog eyes and giving me the stink eye. When I fell, they took it as an opportunity to descend like buzzards stalking the dead. Their leader was the girl who approached me the very first day I'd worn Romeo's hoodie around campus and told me he'd get bored. As they stalked closer, looking like clones from the movie Mean Girls, I caught the calculating look in her eyes. This wasn't going to be good. I pushed up off the ground so I wouldn't feel so vulnerable, but the new snow was slick and my hand slid right out from under me and I fell back again. Romeo was there immediately, the teasing light in his eyes gone as he slid his hand around my back and started to pull me up. "Careful, babe." he said gently. The girls were behind him so I knew he hadn't seen them approach. They stopped as one unit, and I braced myself for whatever their leader was about to say. She was wearing painted-on skinny jeans (I mean, really, how did she sit down and still breathe?) and some designer coat with a monogrammed scarf draped fashionably around her neck. Her boots were high-heeled, made of suede and laced up the back with contrasting ribbon. "Wow, " she said, opening her perfectly painted pink lips. "I saw that from way over there. That sure looked like it hurt." She said it fairly amicably, but anyone who could see the twist to her mouth as she said it would know better. Romeo paused in lifting me to my feet. I felt his eyes on me. Then his lips thinned as he turned and looked over his shoulder. "Ladies, " he said like he was greeting a group of welcomed friends. Annoyance prickled my stomach like tiny needles stabbing me. It's not that I wanted him to be rude, but did he have to sound so welcoming? "Romeo, " Cruella DeBarbie (I don't know her real name, but this one fit) purred. "Haven't you grown bored of this clumsy mule yet?" Unable to stop myself, I gasped and jumped up to my feet. If she wanted to call me a mule, I'd show her just how much of an ass I could be. Romeo brought his arm out and stopped me from marching past. I collided into him, and if his fingers hadn't knowingly grabbed hold to steady me, I'd have fallen again. "Actually, " Romeo said, his voice calm, "I am pretty bored." Three smirks were sent my way. What a bunch of idiots. "The view from where I'm standing sure leaves a lot to be desired." One by one, their eyes rounded when they realized the view he referenced was them. Without another word, he pivoted around and looked down at me, his gaze going soft. "No need to make snow angels, baby, " he said loud enough for the slack-jawed buzzards to hear. "You already look like one standing here with all that snow in your hair." Before I could say a word, he picked me up and fastened his mouth to mine. My legs wound around his waist without thought, and I kissed him back as gentle snow fell against our faces.