silky or silken?

A silky dress: a dress made of silk or something like it.

A silken dress: a dress made of silk or something like it.

A silk dress: a dress made of silk.

Silken is old-fashioned and often found in poetry.

Think of it this way...silky describes a tacti9le feel or a texture. Silken describes what something is made of - its ingredients.

I thought this first, but multiple dictionaries stated that

Silky means "like silk or made of silk"
Silken means "made of silk or like silk"

(i.e. majority meanings reversed)

A person (usually female) can have 'silken hair', especially in poems, but nobody has hair growing out of their head made of silk.

shrug. OK

Perhaps 'silken' is the more elegant.
I thought of using either as an adjective for a female voice.
'Her silky voice', does not evoke the same image as 'her silken voice'
What do you think? I've been wrong once or twice before.

Same might apply to cloth?

Definitely 'a silk dress'. Silky doesn't mean it's made of silk and nobody says silken.

I just wanna know what you can make a silk purse out of. My pig's ear didn't seem to do the trick, eh?

And webs?

And rustling, silken can describe rustling. I never knew curtains were capable of nicking cattle.

I knew a paper bag seller who was arrested for rustling.

That's all they bagged him for?

"If I want to say that a piece of clothing is made of silk" I say "silk dress" with no nuanced nonsense like this fellow:

HE REMEMBERS FORGOTTEN BEAUTY

by: William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

When my arms wrap you round I press
My heart upon the loveliness
That has long faded from the world;
The jewelled crowns that kings have hurled
In shadowy pools, when armies fled;
The love-tales wrought with silken thread
By dreaming ladies upon cloth
That has made fat the murderous moth;
The roses that of old time were
Woven by ladies in their hair,
The dew-cold lilies ladies bore
Through many a sacred corridor
Where such grey clouds of incense rose
That only God's eyes did not close:
For that pale breast and lingering hand
Come from a more dream-heavy land,
A more dream-heavy hour than this;
And when you sigh from kiss to kiss
I hear white Beauty sighing, too,
For hours when all must fade like dew,
But flame on flame, and deep on deep,
Throne over throne where in half sleep,
Their swords upon their iron knees,
Brood her high lonely mysteries.[/quote]

A minister dies and is waiting in line at the Pearly Gates. Ahead of him is a man who is dressed in sunglasses, a loud shirt, leather jacket, and jeans.

Saint Peter addresses this man, “Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit you to the Kingdom of Heaven?” The man replies, “I’m Joey Shasta, retired pilot, of Pittsburg, PA.”

Saint Peter consults his list. He smiles and says to the pilot, “Take this silken robe and golden staff and enter the Kingdom.”

The pilot goes into Heaven with his robe and staff.

Next it’s the minister’s turn. He stands erect and booms out, “I am Joseph Snow, pastor of Saint Mary’s for the last 43 years.” Saint Peter consults his list. He says to the minister, “Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter the Kingdom.”

“Just a minute,” says the minister. “That man was a pilot and he gets a silken robe and golden staff. How can this be?”

“Up here, we work by results,” says Saint Peter. “While you preached, people slept; while he flew, people prayed.”

St. Peter asks the next person in the queue his name and occupation. "Bert Scroggins, scrap metal dealer." St. Peter can't find his name on the list so he goes back and asks one of his cherubs to check. When he gets back Bert Scroggins has gone, and so have the Pearly Gates.

Ha! Good one.

I'm a bit dopey right now, when I saw your post I thought this was the bad jokes thread.

It is.

Oh no it's not.

Bugger!

Are you sure it's not the Panto thread?