Word: corduroys
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Today, Koerner looks like a small-scale lifeguard (he is 5 ft. 4 in., weighs 147 Ibs.). Trim, deeply tanned, with long, wavy blue-black hair and hot brown eyes, he wears a sweatshirt and corduroy slacks at home, does his own cooking. He is a solitary sort, finds relaxation in walking and riding the subway and seldom goes to parties, but when he is with people he is voluble and friendly. Three-fourths of his waking hours are devoted to work...
...there is one thing Colin Middleton can't abide, it's "this long-haired, corduroy cult of artists." The stocky Irish painter prefers to wear his own hair trimmed short and to roll about Belfast and Dublin in hand-woven tweed plus-fours, red suede shoes and a black beret. His would be a notable figure in any landscape; in Ireland, which has produced hardly any painting worth the name,* Middleton is a current sensation...
...never have existed, Professor Joseph Bell. It was Bell's favorite trick (and later, Holmes's) to guess who and what any patient was without being told. "This man," he would declare, "is a left-handed cobbler . . . You'll obsairve, gentlemen, the worn places on the corduroy breeks where a cobbler rests his lapstone? The right-hand side, you'll note, is farr more worn than the left...
Teacher Roy Fisher, 22, just out of the University of South Carolina, was like no teacher Bunk had ever heard of. In his green corduroy jacket, Mr. Fisher could pitch horseshoes and he could square-dance. But he also knew something about symphonies and poetry. On the walls of the classroom, he hung reproductions of paintings by artists Bunk did not know: Cezanne, Bellini, Rouault, Rousseau, Winslow Homer. And on the blackboard, he wrote things like "The best portion of a good man's life, according to Wordsworth, is his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love...
...first time in a decade, Britain's most durable top-rank painter was having a one-man show. On opening day, the doors of London's little Leicester Galleries had parted promptly at 10 o'clock and the corduroy-jacketed clique of fellow artists hurried in for a long, appraising look. If anyone came with doubts, there was colorful evidence on every side that Augustus Edwin John's considerable gifts are still as full-blown and as fresh as they were when he gave his first exhibition, 49 years...