Word: garments
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...subway token to Scalloy Square (he can come back tomorrow); or English muffiins and a cup of tea. Or a package of cigarettes. But it is night, the time of neon and lengthy shadows, streetlamps, hushed voices, nervous laughter, and sex. Night is Harold's garment of life...
...elusive Goldfine (neither his home nor his office admitted to his whereabouts). Once they found a man named Goldfine, but it was Bernard's son Horace. He did not know where his father was, either. That evening TIME-LIFE Correspondent Ken Froslid spotted Mrs. Goldfine in the Boston garment district, trailed her on a hurried ride to Pieroni's Restaurant in Park Square. Froslid notified Gart, who telephoned Jarvis, who hotfooted it to the restaurant. Meanwhile, Gart phoned Horace. "I told him," says Gart, "that we knew where his father was, and I gave him Pieroni...
...Swim. Eccentric Bernard Goldfine gets up late, drives around Boston in one of his two chauffeured black Cadillacs and constantly calls on the radiotelephone to the loyal women workers at his garment-district office with the false alarm that he will be there any minute. They know better, do not expect him until 6 p.m. when he usually begins the day's work, winding up with his office callers about midnight. No cheapskate, he hands out $50,000 a year to charities, spends untold thousands on legal advice...
Today we have specialists in various aspects of sex as well as those who cull a little from each. There are undressing specialists who give us an accounting of every several button, strap, and bow, layer by layer, garment by garment. James M. Cain established the now large school of clothes-ripping technicians, who have shredded enough lingerie to clothe the poor of the world. James Jones contributed shorts-shucking, which follows halter-dropping in sequence. There are specialists in the texture and surface temperature of the body, ranging in the first case from marble to velvet; in the second...
...female body, not excluding the Mother Hubbard, the feathers of the Harpies, or the St. Laurent trapeze, is the saggy, sorry habit of the British private-school girl. At best, the ensemble -long black woolen or cotton stockings, knickers that approach the knee, a vague navy-blue outer garment called a gym slip and a long-sleeved, high-necked blouse with a frumpy tie-makes her resemble a hockey goalie; at sorriest, a carelessly stuffed knackwurst. Cartoonist Ronald Searle immortalized the getup in his books on "St. Trinian...