Word: paled
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...back in the '60s, when the National Gallery bought Leonardo da Vinci's Ginevra de' Benci from Liechtenstein. Leonardo was in his early '20s when he painted this daughter of a rich Florentine banker, circa 1474-78. On the front of the panel you see the familiar face--that pale, egg-smooth, cold teenage mask--a girl soberly dressed in brown, the blue lacing of her bodice neatly echoing the blues of the far sky and the trees and water in the middle distance. Her blond hair frames her face in fine, tight ringlets. The painting prefigures Leonardo's later...
...there are conventions of beauty underlying those of art. For instance, the ideal Italian Renaissance woman had to be a white-skinned blond. Brunets would simply not do. Fashion, literature and the formal constructions of desire insisted on that. Since Italy, then as now, was short of pale natural blonds, bleaching was in order. A favorite bleach--especially in Venice, where prostitutes had to be blond to succeed--was human urine. Whose, history does...
...ground with sticks looking for fragments of U.S. bombs, which they loaded into a huge cooking pot and carried to a pickup truck. One fighter handed me a rubber jug with a strap. "Al Qaeda," he said with a nod. Arabs drink water too. Another fighter with pale green eyes carried a backpack that he had taken from a cave. It contained a stick of Mum Cool Blue roll-on deodorant. He wouldn't let anyone touch it, but he would let them sniff...
Note to Madonna, Britney, J. Lo and all blondishly tressed, rump-wiggling, belly-baring singer- dancers: give it up. You are pale imitations. CHARO is back! And better than ever, especially now that stretch fabrics have been mainstreamed. The campy sensation of '70s and early '80s TV is both star and co-producer of Bravo, her own show in Las Vegas, featuring flamenco, merengue, salsa and plenty of clean "cuchi-cuchi" for the entire family. Asked if she was sick of her signature phrase, she burbled, "Are you kidding? Cuchi-cuchi has shown me the way to the bank...
...hour hotel shaped like a fairy-tale castle. The last train to Yokohama, where her parents live, has long departed. The 17-year-old is wearing black fishnets under short shorts, her long legs tucked into incongruous combat boots. Harumi lights up a cigarette. With her pale skin, bad teeth and stringy hair, she suddenly appears much older. "Right now I don't have a lot of money," she says. "So I'm waiting for this guy I met. He said he'd get me work, introduce me to a store." Is it prostitution? She shifts her eyes away...