Trendy Girl Quotes

It's so trendy, almost bleeding to death. All the cool girls are doing it.

I wonder if you sisters full understand the greatness of your gifts and talents and how all of you can achieve the "highest place of honor" in the Church and in the world. One of your unique, precious, and sublime gifts is your femininity, with its natural grace, goodness, and divinity. Femininity is not just lipstick, stylish hairdos, and trendy clothes. It is the divine adornment of humanity. It finds expression in your qualities of your capacity to love, your spirituality, delicacy, radiance, sensitivity, creativity, charm, graciousness, gentleness, dignity, and quiet strength. It is manifest differently in each girl or woman, but each of you possesses it. Femininity is part of your inner beauty. One of your particular gifts is your feminine intuition. Do not limit yourselves. As you seek to know the will of our Heavenly Father in your life and become more spiritual, you will be far more attractive, even irresistible. You can use your smiling loveliness to bless those you love and all you meet, and spread great joy. Femininity is part of the God-given divinity within each of you. It is your incomparable power and influence to do good. You can, through your supernal gifts, bless the lives of children, women, and men. Be proud of your womanhood. Enhance it. Use it to serve others.

And I think it will be a good thing if I write everything down, because I’m an unusual person. I don’t mean a diary — that’s ridiculous for a trendy girl like me. But I want to write like a movie, because my life is like that and it’s going to become even more so. And I look like Colleen Moore, if she had a perm and her nose were a little more fashionable, like pointing up. And when I read it later on, everything will be like at the movies — I’m looking at myself in pictures.

If I had to pull an all-nighter studying for a test or too many looming deadlines had me pulling out my hair, I wouldn’t end up with just some trendy coffee addiction. I’d end up in a mini-coma, face down in the middle of the studio or on the floor of the community showers.

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teach elementary school kids at an after-hours juku, so I’m used to hearing names like that that don’t sound exactly Japanese, the kind of names that are trendy now. In the class I teach, there’s a boy named Raymond, and girls named Sheru and Tiara. It’s enough to make a teacher pull out his hair.

I’m not sure what all the fuss is about. But we are working backward: dinner first, then drinks in one of the little nooks Campbell has reserved, a mini-closet where you can lounge expensively in a place that’s not too different from, say, your living room. But fine, it’s fun to do the silly, trendy things sometimes. We are all overdressed in our little flashy frocks, our slasher heels, and we all eat small plates of food bites that are as decorative and insubstantial as we are. We

We all lie. We all guard secrets—sometimes terrible ones—a side to us so dark, so shameful, that we quickly avert our own eyes from the shadow we might glimpse in the mirror. Instead we lock our dark halves deep in the basement of our souls. And on the surface of our lives, we work industriously to shape the public story of our selves. We say, “Look, world, this is me.” We craft posts on social media . . . See this wonderful lunch I’m eating at this trendy restaurant with my besties, see my sexy shoes, my cute puppy, boyfriend, tight ass in a bikini. See my gloriously perfect life . . . see what a fucking fabulous time I’m having drunk and at this party with my boobs swelling out of my sparkly tank top. Just look at those hot guys draped all over me. Aren’t you jealous . . . And then you wait to see how many people LIKE this fabricated version of yourself, your mood hinging on the number of clicks. Comments. Who commented. But darkness has a way of seeping through the cracks. It seeks the light . . .

Amma closes the window, walks back, re-spreads herself languorously over the sofa, convince me why feminism getting a new lease of life isn’t a good thing, Dominique? isn’t it just what the doctor ordered? actually it’s the commodification of it that bugs me, Amma, once upon a time feminists were so vilified by the media it turned generations of women away from their own liberation because nobody wanted to be denounced as one, now they’re in a lovefest with it, have you seen all these glamorous photoshoots of stunning young feministas with their funky clothes and big attitude – until it’s no longer on trend feminism needs tectonic plates to shift, not a trendy make-over

I had to drive through a very poor and largely Hispanic section of Miami to get to the apartment complex where Casey Martin had died. There were a lot of beautiful women on the sidewalks and at the outdoor cafés, a lot of tough guys and a lot of guys who weren’t tough but trying to look like they were. The streets were alive with what criminally passed for music nowadays, and there were smells of cooking in the air that suggested savory tastes. Small, hole-in-the-wall shops marked one end, and some more upscale stores the other. The dividing line between the two was discernible not just by the stores, but the women. The women and even younger girls at the lower income end seemed softer, friendlier, quicker with a genuine smile. The ones walking into the trendy places were just as pretty, more expensively dressed, but more apt to express scorn than produce a spontaneous smile. The upscale women appeared to be from a different planet. For them, everything was sexist, everything a slight. They were eternal victims, even though the entire world was in their favor. The women at the poor end fell in love, watched out for their men, while the more affluent were stand-offish and demanding, making certain any man “lucky” enough to be with them lived in the right zip code, had the right amount of bling to give them, and above all, had been properly neutered. The balls of their boyfriends and husbands — sometimes they had both — were always in their handbag, somewhere between the trendy lip liner and eye shadow. A kiss from one of the poor girls was a sweet gift, filled with passion and tenderness, even if it could only last a night. A kiss from an uptown girl meant you’d checked off all her right boxes, and she needed to fulfill her duty. Girls without money were from Venus, girls with money were from Mars.

He shrugged. “When I was younger, I tried to make a good impression on dates. I’d take girls out dancing, bribe the bouncers to get us into trendy clubs, follow all the rules on the pickup artist sites. And one day about five years ago, I realized something: I suck at dancing, I hate trendy clubs, and the women who fall for the standard pickup techniques are airheads. So now I do stuff I like to do anyway. If my date doesn’t like it, then we’re probably not compatible anyway.

Lawrence’s suggestion for a starter wardrobe: a black dress, a fitted black jacket, black pants, a black skirt, a camel-colored skirt, a white blouse, a trendy-looking cardigan in a color (red could be good, for instance), several cool, inexpensive blouses (from places such as H&M or Zara) that pick up or work with the color of the cardigan and will go with your pants and skirts. For shoes, go for black heels and a pair of colored ones (they will make one of your all-black outfits look totally fab). Then build from there.

I envision a trendy upscale diner, not too expensive, where you can get well-made, beautifully presented homestyle cooking- savory meat loaf, steaks, roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, wiener schnitzel, pie à la mode, little baskets of five different kinds of homemade bread.

People always think that Indonesia’s some third-world country where people live in shacks and bathe in the river. I guess in the rural parts of the country, it’s like that, but Jakarta is a huge city with ten million people. Ibu describes it as a place filled with skyscraper after skyscraper, luxury hotels and shiny nightclubs and trendy hipster cafes all bunched together in a never-ending metropolis. Compared to Jakarta, Draycott is nothing but a sleepy little town.

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The dress and trendy trainers are an insufficient disguise. Her age is hiding in the lines around her eyes and the shadows beneath them.

cross him, he wasn’t about to let him get away with it. He was going to need a way to hide information from Frank now, but without it seeming suspicious. If he could keep two searches going – one the actual track he was on and another, a false one, to report to Frank - that could work to throw him off. And considering Frank was unaware that Jake suspected he was up to something, Jake was at an advantage, something he owed to Paige. Thinking of this brought Paige to mind. He’d noticed her even before the awkward run-in at the library. She’d been at the Blue Sky Café one morning, sitting in the far corner with her morning coffee, or one of those trendy coffee drinks that were so popular now. Writing in a journal of sorts, she hadn’t appeared to see him from across the room. But a pretty, new girl in town was hard to miss.  He’d looked away before she could notice and had made a point of not looking back again, even when he walked out the door. Women were always trouble of one kind or another. Even when she bumped into him at the library he’d resisted the urge to talk to her more, though the temptation to ask her out for coffee or perhaps even dinner had crossed his mind at the time. Now that she was somehow connected to this whole situation, he was worried. It might not be enough to just keep his distance. She was clearly the determined sort, not the type to give up on anything easily. He was going to have to keep an eye on her now, to make sure she didn’t cause problems with his plans. In addition, he realized he was starting to feel concerned for her safety, as well as his own. It didn’t sound like Frank and Maddie were aware

Where's the trendy new book celebrating a girl who learned how to quilt? Where's the movie about a girl who changed the world with her volunteerism? When the stories that glorify "women's work" make millions, that's when we can start being proud of ourselves. But today, the fact that we are so proud of girls who excel in math shows how much we still value math, not how much we've come to value girls.

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Femininity is not just lipstick, stylish hairdos, and trendy clothes. It is the divine adornment of humanity. It finds expression in your qualities of your capacity to love, your spirituality, delicacy, radiance, sensitivity, creativity, charm, graciousness, gentleness, dignity, and quiet strength.