I have buttons down my front, but I am no toy. I may be short or long, stiff or soft. I can be plain or patterned, formal or casual. What am I?

I vibrantly fluff up your bags and gifts, I anchor your muscles and repair rifts, I float through the air when I catch a breeze, And stop the explosion of your sneeze.

I ask no permission before I descend. I hide sharp edges and blur where things end. I have sheltered kings from winter's bite, And spared their allies from judgment's light. I may silence a mountain beneath silent white, Or smother dissent with a single decree. Whatever lies beneath me, Soon becomes harder to see. What am I?

I can help you win Wimbledon or lose your neighbors’ patience.

When is a door not a door? When it's ...