Word: collared
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...they were just poor peasants in new clothes: They were given away by their callused hands, dirt under their fingernails and the identical creases on their straight-out-of-the-box shirts - the quiet-spoken apple grower named Liang Yumin still had a piece of cardboard tucked under his collar...
...Earlier this month, the Qixia men contacted me again. Liang Yumin, who had neglected to remove the cardboard from his collar at my office five years ago, had committed suicide. He had told friends he could no longer face the abuse from local officials. Over the years, Liang had been jailed and beaten. Any time he needed official authorization - to sell his crops to the local cooperative, or to send his kids to school - he faced obstruction. Liang told a friend he wished he had never run for office. He cursed himself for having been popular enough to win. With...
...Leagues was inevitable, and Japan is proud of his success, if a bit worried that expectations in Boston might be running too high. (Japanese fans may be a little fuzzy on Beantown's traditions, though. Toshiyuki Nagao, a lifelong fan, expressed concern that "there are many academic and white-collar people in Boston, who might not appreciate baseball's earthy passion." Nagao-san, you'll find plenty of earthy passion in the Fenway bleachers.) But some guardians of the Japanese game fear that Matsuzaka's departure means that the 86-year-old Japanese pro leagues have become little more than...
...involved. Case in point: Standing at the entrance to the show was budding freshman shirtmaker Antonio A. Pino ’10, who had several of his custom made shirts in the show. Spread out on an elegant looking table were his powder blue and exquisite pink herringbone spread-collar shirts, wrapped with ribbon and placed delicately in a silver sheen box. His shirts go for $90 to $120. No word on his sales, but hey, the designers have to start somewhere...
...this doesn’t mean I haven’t taken a few shots of myself humorlessly glaring at the camera, awkwardly forming my lips into some sort of porno-star sneer in a disturbing attempt at whatever I think of as masculinity. I even recently flipped the collar of my pink polo shirt and donned a Red Sox cap during one of these personal photo shoots. This was truly the low point of my existence...