Word: fedoras
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...easy contempt. His eyes were slits in a sallow, freshly-shaved face. His nails were well manicured, his thick, black hair sleekly pomaded. Over a blue suit pressed razor- smooth, with blue shirt and tie to match, he wore a Chesterfield overcoat with vel vet collar. His pearl-grey fedora rode jauntily above a sneering smile...
...most taciturn commercial banker in U. S. history. No other large financial institution in the U. S. could show a record for consistent money-making to match that of the fabulous Baker bank - Manhattan's First National. In financial stature George F. Baker with his sideburns and fedora towered beside his great & good friend John Pierpont Morgan, the Elder. Jacob Henry Schiff rose to the undisputed leadership of U. S. Jewry. Almost single-handed he built up the banking house of Kuhn, Loeb & Co. from a small concern founded in Lafayette, Ind. by two retired commission merchants...
...waved the finger and pushed back the upturned rim of his tan fedora revealing a stray black lock glued to his moist forehead. "Get a summons? Sure I got a summons. But I'm not going to see the commissioner. I've got no business with him. I'm a busy man. I've got no time to see him. I've got no business with him." Jabbing his finger at the inquisitor, Mr. Samuels emphasized the latter point, intimating that if the commissioner wished to satisfy his curiosity he could do so, but at 30a Boylston...
Greeted on arrival by higher Foreign Office functionaries and by Soviet Ambassador to the U. S. Alexander Troyanovsky, Mr. Bullitt whirled off to the National Hotel where he smartly doffed his grey fedora to what Russians called "the first American flag flown officially in Moscow since the Revolution." To correspondents the Ambassador explained that he was on a flying visit, would pick a building to become the U. S. Embassy, return to Washington and later journey back to Moscow with an Embassy staff. While he is away in the U. S., said Ambassador Bullitt, there will...
Twenty-four pounds lighter but scot free, Charles Edwin Mitchell took his wife off to the plutocratic quietude of Southampton, L. I. last week. Gone were the baggy grey suit, the patched shirt, the stained fedora which he wore through the six weeks of his Manhattan tax evasion trial, the last 25 hours of which the jury had spent locked in deliberation. "Sunshine Charlie" was now dressed to the nines in well-pressed, well-cut haberdashery and on his greying head rested a finely-woven Panama that swayed to the least puff of breeze. He "had nothing to say about...