Word: colorfully
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Some bodies, of course, are better off concealed. Designers are unanimous in warning anyone with so much as an extra pound of flesh to stick to the old shirtdress. Steven Brody, one of the innovators of the Cadoro breastplate (see color pages), recalls with disdain an overendowed woman in a see-through blouse: "It was not appetizing. There she was, just bouncing along. Flippety flop." Designer Jon Haggins, himself a slim, trim 165 Ibs., adds that "our customer has to be between 19 and 35, with a firm body, not absolutely flat and not busty either...
...wearing underneath, women from coast to coast are buying the nude look. In Cambridge, Mass., the buyer for a new shop, True International, reports a dizzy business in see-through shirts. "We can sell anything that is transparent and purple," she says. New Yorkers do not care what color it is: tissue-thin voile shirts are turning up like daffodils all over the city. In Washington, D.C., a lady reporter turned heads at the White House correspondents' dinner with a bare-midriff, see-through pajama set. Being diplomatic (or missing the point), George Romney asked: "Who is the blonde...
Even without a landing, the flight of Apollo 10 promises to have spectator appeal. Command Pilot Stafford openly lobbied for the installation of a color TV camera aboard the spacecraft and finally won approval. "A color shot of the spidery LM patched gold and black against a background of the gray, cratered moon would be fantastic," he says. Eleven 15-minute telecasts have already been scheduled for the flight...
...setting is a small West Village bar. If one imagines a corrosively militant Saroyan writing a play called The Time of Your Death, the atmospherics of the place will be grasped immediately. But "Johnny's Bar" is no oasis for gentle daydreamers. It is a foxhole of the color war-full of venomous nightmares, thwarted aspirations and trigger-quick tempers, a place where the napalm of hurt has seared each man's skin. The jukebox rumbles with hard rock; a dope-addled white simp serves drinks when he is not rattling drumsticks along the bar in a syncopated...
...characters are not quite solidly realized, their sentiments most emphatically are. A frustrated actor (Ron O'Neal), who is light enough to cross the color line but not dark enough to be hired as a token Negro in a Broadway show, delivers a bravura monologue on what whites expect of blacks that is hilarious, yet drenched in the acid insights of a people inured to pain. Gordone is too honest to lie about a bright brotherly tomorrow, but in thunder and in laughter he tells the racial truth about today...