Some casual wear

Usage examples of chinos.

APRON OVER AN OLD SHIRT AND washed-out chinos, James Jesus Angleton was sweeping the aisles of the greenhouse he had recently installed in the back yard of his suburban Arlington house, across the Potomac from the District of Columbia and the Pickle Factory on the Reflecting Pool.

She wondered what the penalty was for strangling very large men who wore tacky aloha shirts, khaki chinos, and moccasinstyle loafers.

He dressed in chinos and a blousy Hawaiian shirt, which he wore over his pants in order to be as unhampered as possible by his clothing.

He was a slim, neat man, clad in tan chinos and a chambray shirt with the cuffs rolled back.

He wore a blue dress shirt, a dark tie, chinos, dark socks, and shiny black shoes.

He looked tanned and fit, wearing a white golf shirt, pale chinos, and a leather golf glove on his right hand.

There is also a big before and after photo, on the left a young man in chinos who a market researcher might put in the B2 socio-economic group, self-employed graphic designer or something similar, and on the right the young man is now done up as a woman from a Bradford council estate who has had a hard life on account of her daughter being pregnant and on crack and who sings at the Trades and Labour Club on Fridays to keep her spirits up.

She had put on her battered chinos again and a T-shirt that said YOSEMITE in faded red letters.

It seemed possible this was everything he owned, five sweat shirts, five pairs of chinos, five pairs of tennis sneakers.

In the dream it's the figure of a very tall sunken-chested man in black-frame glasses and a sweatshirt with old stained chinos, leaning back sort of casually or else morosely slumped, resting its tailbone against the window sill's ventilator's whispering grille, with its long arms hanging at its sides and its ankles casually crossed so that Gately can even see the detail that the ghostly chinos aren't long enough for its height, they're the kind kids used to call 'Highwa-ters' in Gately's childhood a couple of Bimmy Gately's savager pals would corner some pencil-necked kid in those-type too-short trousers on the playground and go like 'Yo little brother where's the fucking flood?

He wore a garish aloha shirt and rumpled chinos, and he was dead tired after an all-night session of work on his mem­.

Two teen-age boys from their neighborhood entered the car: black chinos, black shirts, black gang jackets with PLAYBOYS lettered in dripping red on the back.