Word: mayfairs
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...food imports in London are called "the cream line" because the prices rise to the top: Mayfair restaurants pay up to $2.16 per lb. for American asparagus and charge diners $3.30 per serving of seven sticks. French shoppers have learned to ask for Indian River grapefruit by name, even though the Florida product costs 35? each, twice the price of Mediterranean fruit. Among the most popular U.S. foods are innards like liver, hearts and kidneys. Europeans regard them as delicacies, particularly the cheap young American variety, and import $40 million worth a year. The French transform some of the pork...
...were exchanged behind the doors of clubman's row on London's St. James's Street. Inside such traditional Tory haunts as White's and the Carlton, the good cheer was positively palpable. Board rooms in the City took on renewed bustle, and shopkeepers from Mayfair to Manchester exuded an air of optimism. Britain in general seemed overlaid with a vaguely comfortable feeling that the old masters were back in power...
...Amateur Mayfair psychiatrists delight in speculating about the personality of the working-class boy who turned himself into the archetype of the perfect Tory gentleman: sleek, immaculately tailored, slightly haughty and terribly self-contained. He is, some Tories claim, simply too good to be true. One acquaintance traces Heath's transformation back to Balliol: "When Ted went to Oxford, it was during the terribly class-conscious Britain of the '30s. He knew at Oxford that if he wanted to get ahead, he'd have to adjust. Ted shucked his working-class accent, clothes and whole life style for that...
...when he was in his 20s, an Armenian named Dikran Kouyoumjian created a string of literary entertainments about the Bright Young People of London's Mayfair. No one was better than he at writing about "silly young Lords, who drink champagne in the morning, and marvelous new 1920s women, who swear (ever so slightly) and are bored with silly young Lords." His greatest confection was Iris March (in The Green Hat), a fell lady who seductively drops her keepsake emerald on the floor in Chapter 1, but finally dies, for love and honor, in a flaming yellow Hispano-Suiza...
...yearning to be let in. He married a Greek countess, Atalanta Mercati, and called his son Michael Arlen, the nom de plume he had permanently adopted for himself. His daughter he called Venetia-after the heroine of one of his novels. As Michael Arlen, he became a celebrity from Mayfair to Detroit in the days before the word and the condition were tired and devalued. Now his son, a TV critic and essayist, has written a wry and moving but far from fond memoir of his parents. He avoids the more impersonal roles of biographer or critic, as well...