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Word: raquel (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...RAQUEL WELCH Nicosia, Cyprus...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Letters: Oct. 12, 1970 | 10/12/1970 | See Source »

...senior wives have gratefully followed Mrs. Nixon's return to the midi as a way of dealing with the ravages of time. Film stars present a mixed pattern; those whose bodies are their fortune are not about to conceal firm thighs, golden with sun. Those who fancy themselves trendsetters (Raquel Welch is one) have been wearing midis since last spring. And rebels like Jane Fonda, who have been wearing long skirts for more than a year, will probably be perversely prompted to go back to minis, or at least pants...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Press: Out on a Limb with the Midi | 9/14/1970 | See Source »

...longer the exclusive property of the kids. In the swank summer resorts of East Hampton, Southampton and Stonington, Captain America shirts are showing up. At the America's Cup races in Newport, Mrs. David Rockefeller Jr. wore a gold Superman tank top; Brooke Hayward, Jill St. John and Raquel Welch (with an explosive "POW" on her version) are into the undershirt scene...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Modern Living: The Breakout of the Undershirt | 9/7/1970 | See Source »

...point a nymphomaniac stands up and says she likes sex best when she feels guilty. In Good Morning and Goodbye, Vixen and Harry, Cherry and Raquel, Meyer is too involved in the power of titillation to worry about guilt. Men and women come together like harried thunderclaps, unconcerned with motivations and consequences. But the new Meyer has begun to ask the questions he never had the time or money to ask before, and he has saddled his characters with the anxieites of the Silent Majority...

Author: By Robert Crosby, | Title: Russ Meyer: Mr. Tits' n' Ass Forsaking Pornography for Obscener Pastures | 8/14/1970 | See Source »

...dreary one-liners about bed and phalli. There is John Huston, demeaning himself as the slob-gutted, sagebrush sybarite. There is Rex Reed, whose debut as an actor is on a par with the best line the scriptwriter could give him to scream: "Where are my tits?" There is Raquel herself, who wanders about in virtual unemployment, spouting pendulous philosophy á la Vidal and a lot of pointlessly dirty words. She struggles desperately to parody herself but only sinks deeper and deeper into the bog around...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Cinema: Some Sort of Nadir | 7/6/1970 | See Source »

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