Word: lipstick
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...Opera, who sang selections from two Tchaikovsky operas, Eugen One gin and Queen of Spades. She revealed a voice of impressive range and size, smooth as silk in its vocal tracery, superbly responsive to every dramatic mood. Handsomely sheathed in a low-cut hourglass gown, but wearing no makeup ("Lipstick is unbecoming to me''), Soprano Vishnevskaya showed clearly why she is a Russian favorite. Her high spirits may stem from the fact that she started not in grand opera but in musical comedy. She sang at the Leningrad Operetta Theater during the war, sandwiching performances between stints...
...Secretary Flemming's Food and Drug Administration was getting ready for another fight of the same sort last week-this time with the $80 million-a-year lipstick industry. FDA chemists charge that 17 different coal-tar dyes used in lipsticks caused either death or illness when fed to rats. The lipstick makers insist nonetheless that women never digest more than an infinitesimal speck of lipstick, and that the FDA's attack is grossly unfair. Probable next step: a public hearing to discuss FDA's ban on the dyes, now scheduled to go into effect...
...perfectionist," says a former employee. "He applies this rule to people as well as products and advertising." Revson pays attention to the smallest details, often spends weeks working out the right name or the exact shade for a new lipstick or nail enamel, personally selects models and approves their clothing. He even had his employees' telephones tapped to make sure they were doing their jobs right...
...least one day a week, Revson dons a white coat and roams through the company's laboratories, where Revlon this year is spending $1.1 million on research, more than any other cosmetics firm. His eye is so sharp that he can pick out the one imperfect lipstick on an assembly line of hundreds, his standards so high that he has been known to throw away $1,000,000 worth of lipstick because its shade was just a little...
...brightly painted toes flicker through the nimble measures of the Charleston; her wrists grow strong beneath the weight of jangling bracelets; her long thighs are shaped to glued-on toreador slacks. She carries blithely a large basket laden with spare sets of false eyelashes, spare bandannas, waterproof mascara, lipstick brushes, eyelid pencils, bobby pins, suntan oils, combs, tweezers, compacts, cigarettes, stray hairs left by the cat. Atop her head is a brimmed straw-hat pulled over a voile scarf tied babushka-style, and she turns on the world the blind stare of dark glasses. She strides along confidently, her breasts...