Word: cleef
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...widened The New Yorker's concerns and investigations. The world that the reader now entered became far more real and gritty, far less trivial and debonair. To the untutored eye, The New Yorker was the fixture as before; the magazine's makeup remained unaltered. The glittering Van-Cleef & Arpels brooches, the Boehm porcelains, the Rolls-Royces and Mercedes still whispered their seductions from the sidelines. But, incongruously, in the columns that threaded between these celebrations of richesse were books that would permanently alter their audience: Baldwin's The Fire Next Time, Carson's Silent Spring, Commoner...
...finally decreed his coronation-after 26 years on the throne. Rather like Napoleon, he crowned himself with the 10,400-carat ruby and diamond royal crown. For Farah, the first Shahbanou (Imperial Consort) of Iran ever accorded the honor of being crowned, a special diadem was fashioned by Van Cleef & Arpels...
...beach in Long Island's with-it Hamptons, one comely lady last week sported a shirt labeled simply VAN CLEEF & ARPELS-a Fifth Avenue gem dispensary-explaining that her husband had bought it in place of "other merchandise from there." Superstar Paul Newman's T advises: DRINK WET CEMENT . . . GET REALLY STONED. Indeed, with the likes of Joanne Woodward (wearing Husband Paul's face centered on her front), Yoko Ono, Carly Simon and an Alabama comedienne and L.A. talk-show regular who cottons to a replica of a fried egg on each well-poached breast, show...
...there you have it, or so Lelouch would have it, society has been effeminized. The intellectuals are dainty dried up men whose sterile concepts mark a lack of virility. And the bourgeoisie--like the manager of Van Cleef's who gets twitchy and makes clucking noises like a mother hen before rich customers--are a lost cause...
Lelouch takes care to place his tale in the late sixties, though there is nothing insistently late sixties in the movie. It's more one of those timeless love stories than anything else: a middle aged professional crook holing up in Cannes to rob a fancy (Van Cleef's) jewelry store, is smitten by the antique dealer who runs the shop adjacent. He pursues her by as labyrinthine a design as the one he lays for the robbery. He's no wizard at mind-reading, however, and both plans backfire. The police nab him (for some mysterious reason he dawdles...