Word: bohemian
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...told how Mayor Roesch "lit a fresh cigar, twiddled his watch chain a moment," slashed the city's budget. Happiest stroke was a three-column report on the just-published memoirs of Buffalo's Mabel Ganson Dodge Sterne Luhan who, now married to a Taos Indian, gained bohemian fame by previously marrying Painter Maurice Sterne and writing her intimate reminiscences of Author David Herbert Lawrence (Lorenzo in Taos...
...administrative power to a non-partisan expert. With the exception of a few false dawns in American public life, such as the wondrous Tom Johnson or the velvet dominance of Seth Low, our cities have laboured under distressing burdens of incompetence. But Chicago also had her interlude. To a Bohemian immigrant must go the glory of a real resuscitation, however temporary, of her moribund civic pride...
Bald, burly, able Artist George Benjamin Luks, 65, onetime signpainter, circus Wagon decorator, newspaper cartoonist in Cuba, oldtime rowdy Bohemian, began to worry about making a sideshow spectacle of himself after promising the Artists' Cooperative Market in Manhattan that he would paint a portrait of Dancer Doris Humphrey, for charity, before an audience of gaping New Yorkers. Coming well fortified for the ordeal, Artist Luks leaped on the platform, shouted at the astonished gathering: "I'm George Luks and I'm a rare bird! . . . You might as well leave the platform, young woman...
...material for love-affairs, her affairs as material for her best-selling books. Victoria is gross, cynical, shrewd; somehow her daughter turns out to be the opposite. She soon sees through her mother, takes her affection to Fanny. When the daughter marries a nice young man, Victoria's Bohemian creed is horrified and she tries to break it up. But youth wins out. Aging Victoria shrugs her shoulders, says: "It seems you are all I have left, Fanny." ¶Because Emily was a rich man's daughter, she might look kindly on young Clerk Evan...
...have liked to afford. Artist Boutet de Monvel lives amid beautiful women. Rich ones sit to him for their portraits, poor ones are models for the fashion plates he draws for Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, the Gazette de Bon Ton. Always impeccably dressed in public, he is sufficiently bohemian to paint in a blue-&-black striped blazer and patent leather pumps. He is fond of gold cigaret cases and dark red carnations with evening clothes. In Paris he lives very quietly. In New York, whither Mme Boutet de Monvel seldom comes, he has a cream-&-black duplex studio...