Word: fedoras
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Foreign Commissar Viacheslav Molotov waved a grey fedora and smiled when he stepped from a U.S. Army plane at Washington's airport this week. Greeted by Edward R. Stettinius Jr., Mr. Molotov kept on smiling and stared at a point midway between the Secretary of State's chin and navel. Posing later with Stettinius, Anthony Eden, Sir Archibald Clark Kerr and Ambassadors Harriman and Gromyko, the Foreign Commissar stared at nothing in particular (see cut}. Mr. Molotov's companions regarded this as encouraging...
...open back seat of a Packard touring car, Candidate Roosevelt set out, bundled to his white-stubbled chin in a beaver-collared overcoat, his old brown campaign fedora scrunched on his balding poll. Beside him sat Secretary of the Treasury Henry Morgenthau, shivering in a lightweight topcoat, his nose and chin blue with cold. The sky was lead-colored, the wind sharp. Franklin Roosevelt coughed occasionally and his eyes watered behind his pince-nez. But at Poughkeepsie, Wappingers Falls, Kingston and Newburgh, he waved his arm, grinned, bobbed his head vigorously, spoke cheerfully to the street crowds...
...right field, Franklin Roosevelt's Packard drove up a ramp. The President dismounted, stepped a few feet to a speaker's stand. It began to pour. The President took off his grey fedora, let the Navy cape drop from his shoulders. Standing in the rain in his grey sack suit, he spoke for five minutes. Said he: Bob Wagner "deserves well of mankind...
...friend of the "New Yorker" get, off at South Station anyhow? All that indefinable air of well-being, good cigars and whiskey, that subtle compound of Brooks Bros., Yardley and Sulka disappear in a puff of smoke. The ruddy executive becomes a pathetic, puzzled little fellow in a battered fedora, clutching a suitcase in his arms and sweating profusely. He's probably run down at the heel, too. Hell, Harold, you might as well give him a dime and put him on the subway...
...appearance Molotov is Teddy Roosevelt minus "T.R.'s" color. He is wide-browed, broad-shouldered, stocky. Almost alone among the Red leaders, he has retained the white collar and tie, the neat dark suit, the stiffly worn fedora. As a concession to his proletarian environment he sometimes wears a cap. But not even the cap can conceal his indisguisable middle-class look...