Word: frocked
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MOONSCAPE (Putnam; $3.50)."With clumsy fingers I undid two buttons of her frock, slipped my hand beneath it and ..." And Mika Waltari, whose bestsellers (The Egyptian, The Adventurer, The Wanderer) would be considerably shorter if his heroines knew about zippers, is off meandering again, this time in his native Finland. This volume consists of five not-very-short stories. The title yarn tells what happens to the unbuttoned country girl: she grows up to be a movie star with a boudoir-view of life ("There are no impotent men, only unskilled women, don't you think?"). Another story...
...Benito Mussolini was called to office as Head of the Government of Italy. "Excuse my appearance," the new boss told King Victor Emmanuel, "but I come from the battlefield." Mussolini referred to his Fascist Party black shirt, not the striped pants ("too long and tight") or the frock coat ("sleeves . . . too short") which he had borrowed from his pals. As for his "battlefield," this, too. was the property of friends: it was they who had made the historic "March on Rome" the preceding day, while Leader Mussolini stayed snug in the office of his Socialist newspaper, Il Popolo...
...invented a game of tag involving pokes and crossed fingers during the pastor's long prayer on Sunday mornings. Teddy played bear with Baby Quentin and assorted small fry, pouncing on them with such energy "that he tore all the gathers out of [one little girl's] frock and both buttonholes out of her petticoat." When Teddy became too violently playful, wife Edith, no "Patient Griselda," intervened. Edith was a childhood friend of Teddy's and a lifelong love. Her standards were Victorian, but she knew the business of being mother and running a household, and when...
Mayor Edward Arnold does the old frock-coat routine, the tabloids turn on the tear hydrants, the crowds rise in tribute at a World Series game while a soprano executes You Are the Bravest, a nightclub goes so far as to dedicate its floor show to the doomed waif...
...Elsa Schiaparelli. The struggle lasted ten years. In 1938, almost overnight, the women of Paris, followed sheeplike by the women of the world, turned from Coco to the invader from Italy, with her exaggerated feminine conceits, her tassels, her flaming colors and "parachute" silhouettes. "Chanel wanted the tricot sailor frock with the long sweater, the short skirt," says Schiaparelli. "I took the frock. I altered the line . . . Voilà! Chanel ees feeneesh...