Word: blends
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Frugable Charm. West Coast coeds like "the Scramble Look" best for day -a style that depends upon the combination of as many patterns as possible in a single outfit; the girl who can manage a skillful blend of dots with stripes, checks with tweeds, and plaids with prints, plus patterned stockings, may seem something of an eyesore off campus, but no matter-around the quad she's the sweetheart of Sigma Chi. For night, U.C.L.A. students slip into something appropriate to "the Discothèque Look"-sleeveless jumpers made sometimes of tweed but more often of velours, bare...
...oldest universities in the English-speaking world, Oxford and Cambridge are architectural amalgams of virtually every style from 13th century Romanesque through Gothic and Tudor to Victorian. Somehow all the styles blend in a nobly ancient mix of ornate walls, curlicued towers, spires, domes and gables, archways, turrets, gargoyles and waterspouts. The atmosphere is that of a contemplative sanctuary, the world where Wordsworth recorded "Sweet Spenser, moving through his clouded heaven." Gowned scholars still mount gloomy stair wells to their dark, dank digs...
...meadow by the River Cherwell, St. Catherine's low, flat roofs (maximum height: 30 ft.) blend with, rather than dominate, a horizon defined by trees (see opposite page). Only the high, spare bell tower-two planes joined by minimal struts-provides collegiate symbolism. Inside the grounds the pattern is yellow-beige brick (Jacobsen had several walls knocked down and laid again), sweeps of floor-to-ceiling glass and marble-smooth concrete beams-all interspersed with gardens, courts and a reflecting pool. The quadrangle is a rond-point of greensward offering a single, artfully off-centered tree...
...founded 110 years ago) and much, much greyer than La Rand, but the stripper and the seaside town both exude a garish, garter-snapping exuberance that has largely disappeared from affluent America. The boardwalk - and for most visitors the boardwalk is Atlantic City - is an unbelievable anachronism, a eupeptic blend of pre-war Coney Island and a Victorian mu sic hall, where vulgarity, dodgem-car din, sentimentality and pushy camara derie reign uninhibited and unabashed...
Despite their modern idiom, contemporary Spaniards like Guinovart still live in homage to their ancestral art. None is all that distant from Goya's black nightmare paintings. Their colors are gloomy or veiled. They rarely use oils pure from the tube but rather blend them with earths to make their impastos. They seem, like the flamenco dancer holding his head high while his feet stomp in the dust, trapped in a tragic, often elegant, dilemma between formality and earthiness...