Some people just HAVE IT: a sense of style...that certain je ne sais quoi..
You know who they are. You could swathe them in paper towels, mummy-style, and somehow, they'd manage to look good, maybe fashioning a bow, tied loosely, and trailing off to the side.
What is it about them?... Did they learn this somewhere? I think not. They're born with it.
"STYLE--go ahead talking about style,You can tell where a man gets his style just
as you can tell where Pavlova got her legs
or Ty Cobb his batting eye.
Go on talking.
Only don't take my style away.
It's my face.
Maybe no good
but anyway, my face.
I talk with it, I sing with it, I see, taste and feel with it,
I know why I want to keep it.
Kill my style
and you break Pavlova's legs,
and you blind Ty Cobb's batting eye."
(--Carl Sandburg)
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