Word: gucci
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...A.M.C. cars unveiled last week were mirror images of their 1971 counterparts on the outside. Inside, though, the sporty Javelin will feature optional trim and upholstery by Fashion Designer Pierre Cardin of Paris; the Hornet wagon can be had with finishing touches by Aldo Gucci, Italy's famed designer of leather accessories. Instead of new body styling, or the wide variety of models offered by its competitors, A.M.C. is making its major move in the area of warranties. Starting with the 1972 models, the company will pay for the repair of all defects during the first twelve months...
...through Miami Beach to indulge myself in a deluge of costumes and Cadillacs. Later, in Palm Beach, Harold's grocery truck (of Southampton, L.I., and Palm Beach) sped by advertising pheasant and fresh caviar. At Hamburger Haven I was handed hamburgers by a waiter in a cashmere sweater and Gucci shoes (no socks). In front of the Beach Club a wedding party sang college songs and split Jack Daniel's on the tenth tier of the wedding cake...
...contrast to the islands was unfair, but in three hours I had changed worlds, and I was forced to make comparisons. Were the Gucci shoes and the Lilly sportcoat as expressive as the proud fisherman's beard and straw hat? And the weaver and the crazy woman-was their squabble the same as a joust of honking between a Mercedes and a Bentley? No, emphatically, no. Not Palm Beach: this extravagance could not have the same depth as the simple, slow, island rituals. The islanders' foibles had communicated their self-knowledge. Here, I felt that the foilbes denied that knowledge...
...museum, add up to a kind of instant junkyard of the future. They range from the tense brutality of Barry Le Va's Cleaved Wall (24 meat cleavers, slashed into a 30-ft. expanse of board) to a lamentable anthology of sculptural cliches that looks as if Gucci had been playing with oak beams and steel joists, but is in fact the work of the respected painter Kenneth Noland...
...asked everybody to shut their [sic] eyes and pretend they [sic] were a farm worker's wife in the dusty plains of Delano, California, eating baloney sandwiches for breakfast at 3 a. m. before heading out into the fields. . . . So they all stood there in their Pucci dresses, Gucci shoes, Capucci scarves, either imagining they were grape workers' wives or wondering if the goddamned wind would ever stop. The wind had come up off the ocean and it was wrecking everybody's hair. People were standing there with their Hands pressed against their heads as if the place had been...