Word: claddings
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...That's funny. I talked to Alfred Knopf just a few days ago, and he said then that he couldn't make it tonight." For this year's ceremonies the famous publisher, now 82, turned up onstage at New York's Avery Fisher Hall, suitably clad in a pink shirt. Knopf was being given a special citation for more than half a century of distinguished publishing, and his brief remarks recalled a happier time when deluxe editions of books could be bought for $1.50 apiece...
...Charleston and black bottom at the old Plantation Club. Paris, to which she moved in 1925 at age 19, had never seen anything like her at all. At the Folies-Bergere, she gave lessons in how to make an entrance. Down she would come on a mirrored platform clad in a bunch of bananas. Nothing else. "I wasn't really naked," she liked to say in later years. "I simply didn't have any clothes...
...bisexual drag queen named Dr. Frank 'N' Furter. In his lab, the evil doctor, leeringly played by Tim Curry, has fashioned a blond centerfold playmate, Rocky (Kim Milford), who is sort of male. Frank wears torn black mesh stockings, black garters and black lipstick. Rocky is clad in something smaller than swim trunks and larger than a jock strap. He tenses his torso and biceps like an old Charles Atlas ad plugging rock muscularity...
...portrays a charming wife, whose dialogue compensates for her insipidity. Admittedly, there's not much time in this snatch of a story for nuance in personalities. Perhaps that's why the comic characters come off best--they each have a bundle of idiosyncrasies to lean on. Heurtebise, clad in blue overalls, shuffles around in a loose-ankled, slightly pigeon-toed walk, with his hands clasped tightly against his waist. The unworldly astonishment never fades from his pudgy face. A natty clerk displays an uninspiredly clever knack for his work that his pompous boss lacks, and briefly supplants the others with...
...show runs against The Wonderful World of Disney in the 7:30 slot on Sunday night, and there is something wackily inspired about this amusing little coincidence that the CBS programmers have arranged. Just standing there on her runway, half-clad in one of the twelve to 15 costumes Cher Sarkesian Bono wears out every broadcast hour, she inspires more -and infinitely richer-fantasies than all the plastics of Disneyland. Indeed, it is barely possible that Cher in Cher may -with a little help from the many shrewd friends who so elaborately package her each week-redefine that grand...