Word: cloths
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...White House got a vicuña coat? Adams: "Well, now, let's get the thing on the record. My superior officer at the White House never received a coat from this gentleman." (But Press Secretary Jim Hagerty stated that Ike did receive some vicuña cloth from Goldfine in 1956, gave it to a friend...
...Adams called Federal Trade Commission Chairman Edward F. Howrey to ask for the source of an FTC complaint against Goldfine for putting a "90% wool, 10% vicuña" label on cloth that actually contained some nylon. ¶ On April 14, 1955, when Goldfine was investigated again on the same charge, Adams got him an appointment to meet Chairman Howrey. Once there, Goldfine waved the Adams name like a magic sledge hammer. "Please get Sherman Adams on the line for me," he ordered, loud enough for nearby FTC staffers to hear. "Sherm, I'm over...
...doesn't have a lawyer, he's got a bar association." cracks one Boston barrister. Goldfine took considerable pride in having stylish cloth woven at Vermont's Northfield Mills out of the wool from South America's vicuñas, getting it tailored into coats for friends such as Adams and Payne. By his standards his was the open, honest hand of friendship, and what he got in return was only the kind of help one friend would render another. Says one of his closest Boston friends: "He's a name dropper and a Scotch...
When the trial began in Nairobi, it seemed inevitable that it would provide Mboya with the kind of martyrdom that is so invaluable in nationalist politics. The first day, Bwana Tom (as his idolatrous followers call him) arrived ostentatiously wearing a Ghana toga of kente cloth. Wherever he went, his followers trailed him crying the Ghana chant: "FreeDOM! Free-DOM!" His new People's Convention Party, modeled after Nkrumah's party, organized an effective boycott of buses, beer and tobacco, staged such wild demonstrations that the police had to call on Mboya himself to stop them...
...Howrah Bridge for a cooling touch of breeze from the distant sea, or stroll the green acres of Maidan Park. Holy men chant by lantern light as the devout perform their religious ablutions in the muddy water of the Hooghly. The bazaars are choked with wandering fiddlers, fortunetellers, cloth merchants, naked children, sidewalk barbers; every third man has fountain pens for sale. In their thousands, the always-hungry poor lie down on their hard beds on pavement, railroad platforms, under bridges. Some of them will not rise in the morning...