Word: flooringly
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...Radical shape, especially the squared off kind, seems to be a theme at the couture shows this season. Bruno Frissoni, the affable shoe designer who also heads up the creative direction of the house of Roger Vivier, presented a small collection of couture shoes and bags in his first-floor office on the Faubourg St.-Honore. The most stunning pair was called "Boxes" and consisted of black and gold lacquered wooden boxes stacked on top of each other to form a heel and a sole. "It's like placing your foot on a console," Frissoni said. Most of the collection...
Outside, male students are battling the rangers. "Emergency!" the seminary's headmistress, Umma Hassan, declares, and she leaps to her feet. Students and teachers don battle gear over their tunics and pants: dark, floor-length robes and headscarves that show only their eyes. Stout bamboo staffs appear out of nowhere. A Sten gun flashes from beneath Hassan's robe...
...retaliation from the rangers. We are caught in a narrow corridor, bullets slicing through the thick smoke on either side of us. A canister of tear gas rolls past my feet, spewing cottony clouds that claw at my eyes and tear at my lungs. Someone from the second floor above the gate pours a bucket of water on us. Blissful reprieve, if just for a few seconds. Coughing, choking, we scrabble at the front door, battling to get through the narrow passageway, back into the madrasah, to safety...
...embracing and swaying to the music, we screamed, howled, shrieked the lyrics; a medley of monkeys that hardly knew the words, or even the tune really. A drunken girl from Arkansas (who had told me seven times she was applying for the Rhodes scholarship before falling unceremoniously to the floor) rushed up to us demanding to know what song this...
...plate on behalf of all those starving children in Africa. But I can’t even manage that: Every time I open the refrigerator, out tumbles another Tupperware tub full of leftovers. How can I justify that kind of overabundance, that heavy plunk of plastic hitting the kitchen floor? Am I allowed a carefree and extravagant and totally unconstructive summer for myself—what a sympathetic (and perhaps enabling?) friend deems, a “season of grace?...