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Word: lapelled (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...still called the Polo Lounge. There were off-screen sporting events: Tom Mix once was sent to the carpet in a flying tackle by an autograph hound; Cartoonist George McManus unscrewed a button marked "Press" from a men's room urinal, affixed it to his lapel and crashed a swank party as a newspaperman. But of more lasting interest was the hotel's impeccable service, a concept originally executed by, and credited to. the Beverly Hills's Hernando Courtright, who bought the hotel in 1943. Current owner Ben Silberstein, who took over ten years later, has sedulously...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Hotel: With a Smile | 11/9/1962 | See Source »

Cries of "Rubbish." In the week be fore the conference. 20 million copies of Macmillan's pamphlet, stating why Britain must join Europe, were circulated to every corner of the United Kingdom. At Llandudno young party workers distributed among the delegates hundreds of five-inch lapel badges that bore only one word: "Yes."' Belatedly. anti-Marketeers copied the ploy, but their "No" buttons were overwhelmingly outnumbered. To provide the facts and figures about the Market, Britain's chief negotiator, Lord Privy Seal Edward Heath, interrupted meetings with the Six in Brussels and flew to Wales. Exhibiting...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Great Britain: For Us, the Future | 10/19/1962 | See Source »

...Russian sense of humor, which is generally left at home by everyone, poured out uninhibitedly. At a street festival in the city's principal Italian colony, for example, the group was confronted by an earnest patriot who was trying to pin small American flags to the blouses and lapels of everyone in the jammed crowd. One Russian boy let himself get pinned. Others laughed at him. With a grin, he turned the lapel over, exposing a metal button with a picture of Nasser...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Ballet: On the Town | 9/28/1962 | See Source »

...Homburg set squarely on his head, his natty guardsman's mustache stretched over a smile, a fresh carnation peeping from his lapel, Whalen flashed into the jazz age like a Victorian anachronism. He was the man in the lead car of every great tumultuous Broadway parade, the companion of the hero of the hour, always the host, never the honored guest, forever the other fellow in the news photos. Impeccable in dress, urbane in character, it was he to whom the city turned when it wanted to put on the dog for a visiting celebrity...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Cities: Hello & Goodbye | 4/27/1962 | See Source »

years have marshmellowed Jerome Weidman. His 1937 bestselling novel stingingly chronicled the rise of a Manhattan Garment District amoralist named Harry Bogen who was sharper than a Seventh Avenue lapel. In fashioning a musical from that book. Weidman has turned his whole-souled heel into a halfhearted villain, poured sentimental goo over the satire, and given Harry a last-scene redemptive delousing unmatched since the Hays office took in ethical cleansing...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Theater: Delousing of Harry Bogen | 3/30/1962 | See Source »

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