Word: corduroyed
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...consecrated, the thin, flat paintings caused a national flutter. Parishioners gaped up at Jesus as a boy in a red sweater, Mary in a black dress and black silk stockings carrying a shopping bag, Joseph in a Trilby hat and yellow zippered jerkin, John in rolled-up shirtsleeves and corduroy slacks, and Peter in a grey flannel suit...
...represented a sleekly modern office-apartment equipped with a pushbutton intercom system and a radio. The booted, black-uniformed officer listened for a' while to a local radio singer, questioned a corduroy-jacketed "freedom fighter," and chased a redhead in green strapless evening gown about his desk. 'What was going on? Answer: A modern-dress production of Puccini's Tosca...
Laugh at the Laugh. When West first started to bat about with his phosgene-filled clown's bladder, he was an expatriate boulevardier in Paris, sporting umbrella and plaid overcoat among the beards and corduroy of the lost generation. The Dream Life of Balso Snell seems on the surface like one of those near-sophomoric, painfully private japes played for the semiprivate public of a little magazine. It concerns the dream adventures of Balso Snell, a poet, who enters a Trojan Horse from the rear end ("Anus Mirabilis!"), and encounters a number of symbolic characters in the murky interior...
Beneath this outer skin there is no set costume: anything dowdy and off-beat enough to be considered European will do. Such outfits as wide-welt corduroy suits cut in odd shapes seem popular, but ordinarily Continentalism can be spotted in smaller, more specific articles of dress. Foulard scarves and desert boots are, admittedly, more British than European, but they should be counted. Dark-colored shirts are being worn too much by the Cantabrigian Gentleman types now, with tweeds, to be much good to Continentalism; and grey-and khaki-colored work shirts are part of the bigger, people-yes movement...
...clay, another year for it to be cast in aluminum. Then, for 18 months, while restoration of the nave proceeded, the figure remained in a crate as Sir Jacob, now 76, fretted that he might never live to see it unveiled. Last week he put aside his plaster-spattered corduroy work clothes, put on a well-worn morning suit and black Homburg and left with his wife for the pre-Easter hallowing of the restored nave and the dedication of his Christ in Majesty...