Word: dressing
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...reviewer of last year's Pi Eta production referred to the "elephantine grace" of the chorus, and Coach Lord does not intend such a slur to be repeated. "Look at the chorus!" be exclaimed last night to a CRIMSON reporter, a privileged spectator at the dress rehearsal. "Is there anything elephantine about that? You put in your paper that the Pi Eta show this year has some real dancing and the 'real' in italics--if you have any italics...
...happened last week that the Bolshevik Ambassador Leonid Krassin gave a dinner at the Russian Embassy for his colleague, M. Herbette, French Ambassador-designate to Russia. M. Herbette pondered long over his dress. Should it be corduroy pants, a flannel shirt and a shoddy coat? Or the capitalistic regalia of full evening dress? Inquiries, discreetly made, revealed that the sombre black and white of evening dress would be worn. But still, the reception and dinner would be a simple affair, for the Bolsheviki are noted for their Spartan simplicity...
...barbered, however, smooth-browed and with an honest mouth. In the autobiographical works, Mr. Firkins finds that he was athletic only in boyhood, a nonsmoker, fearful of dogs yet fond of them, as fond of birds as Spencer and Stevenson, partial to public spectacles, keen of nose, "respectful" toward dress; that "he observed the habit while he deplored the custom" of giving tips; that his visits to churches "commonly involved the Baedeker rather than the Prayerbook. . . . He distrusted Eddyism [Christian Science] . . . recoiled from what seemed to him tasteless and tawdry in the external fashions of the Salvation Army [in England...
...mitres and mosques-15,000 years in a book of 150 pages that scholars will find an interesting tour-de-force, men of letters a most scholarly little tract. And the end? Clothes, like the appendix, are a useless relic of evolution. For modesty, for protection, for display, we dress. These purposes are outworn. The new man will be naked as Heaven's cherubim; he will build towers to which the Spire of Salisbury were but a wand...
...cold winter nights, outside the Metropolitan Opera House, Manhattan, cabdrivers shuffle and swing their arms. It is dull for them. The people they have brought thither, wait to remove, are not even sports; they are music-lovers who give small tips, cold-eyed elegants in evening dress, or critics that ponder, as they read the meter, such terms as "a good performance, well sung," "gala night," "once more with a brilliant cast . . ." wishing to Heaven they could find a new phrase or change for a quarter. At regular intervals, the cabdrivers hear, from within, a prolonged rattling murmur which means...