Word: gigolos
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...popping neurotic who flies off to the Bahamas to calm her tortured soul. Providing some salve under the sun are an old college buddy turned mistress-for-hire (Shirley Jones) and her latest beau (Lloyd Bridges), who watch benignly as Mary succumbs to the brilliantine blandishments of an aging gigolo (Bobby-pardon, Robert-Darin). Refreshed and renewed, Mary returns to Denver and informs her husband that she is leaving home for good...
...Pritchards decide to recapture the essence of their romance by taking a three-month vacation on Cap Ferrat on the French Mediterranean. There, surrounded by a group of sybaritic international degenerates, Michael has an intense sexual bout with an English actress and, wittingly or unwittingly, hires an Italian gigolo to teach Margaret French and other things. What they both learn is what destroys them...
Daimler and Sapphires. As Walter tells it, Harris was a dancing instructor who, in 1963, wanted to be just a gigolo and began ingratiating himself into the comfortable Bucks County life of Pearl Buck. He fawned, she loved it; together they wrote a mawkish book (For Spacious Skies) about finding one another. A year later, she made him president of the new foundation. He left his dance-studio job and moved into (rent free) the organization's elegant town house in Philadelphia's Delancey Place. Soon, writes Walter, Harris had collected "several thousand dollars worth" of suits, jewelry...
Nothing overt ever transpires between them; every conversation is an exchange of slurs. They become inseparable chiefly because they share a common loss: both could sue life for alienation of affections. Joe Buck is alternately a male hustler and a gigolo; if he knows a lot about sex, he is, like Ratso, ignorant of sympathy. Neither realizes that the only place he has ever found it is in his companion. Yet by the time the two head for Florida, they have become aspects of the same person. As the thief coughs his way to death aboard a bus, the cowboy...
Considering the problems pants present, the current female fascination with trousers is a little baffling. Yet they appear everywhere, in all sorts of styles and at all sorts of places. Some hang from the shoulders like farmer's overalls; others hug the hips like an Italian gigolo, or stick to the thighs as if the wearer had just emerged from a shower. In denim and khaki, they go to student protests and love-ins; in lace, they go to dinner and the theater; in twill and flannel, they even go to the office...