Word: salons
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...collection constituted Sophie Gimbel's conception of the New Look. As head of Saks's famed Salon Moderne, its custom dress shop, Sophie is one of the top U.S. designers. Moreover, as the U.S. dress industry is well aware, she has a razor-keen sense, as sharp as any other designer's, of what U.S. women will finally choose to wear out of the hodge-podge of new styles. As far as the great mass-producing dress shops of Manhattan's Seventh Avenue are concerned, that makes Sophie a fashion chart. What she displays one week...
...Sophie's slim-waisted models swept about her salon last week, the carefully curried audience of women (and one sad husband looking like a Displaced Person) cooed with pleasant surprise. Nowhere was there a sign of fantastic extremes that had given the New Look its painful expression. Sophie had simply gone her own, independent way and created a New Look that was an easily recognizable alteration of the Old. Shoulders were padded slightly less than before and waists were narrower, but few were corseted, and daytime hemlines, only slightly lower, were still a long way from the ankles. ("Everyone...
...tone was set by U.S. Delegate Arthur Vandenberg. "Señor Presidente y amigos," he began (after that he relapsed into English). Before the session was over, Argentine Delegate Pascual La Rosa strode clear across the Quitandinha's salmon-pink conference salon to hug the Senator in a warm Latin abrazo. The latest U.S.-Argentine dispute had dissolved in love & kisses. The tracks were cleared for the signing of the Inter-American Defense Treaty when President Truman reaches Rio this week (see NATIONAL AFFAIRS...
...huge circular salon that had been the Quitandinha Hotel's nightclub was draped in dark green and salmon pink. Brazilian bigwigs and tourists up from Rio crowded against the walls. Around the grey-covered horseshoe table in front of the speaker's platform, delegates to the Rio Conference fidgeted restlessly in yellow leather chairs. It was cold in the vast hotel on the mountains at Petropolis, 40-odd miles north of Rio. Furthermore, the President of Brazil was late...
...nights were lit by a theatrically mellow moon. But as the shoreline died away, the passengers had little to look at but themselves. The few inveterate voyagers among them recognized that nothing about the Queen Mary had changed quite so much as her passengers. The prewar glitter of the salon list was dimmed. Gone were the orchids and the ermine. Few British escapists, yearning after the fleshpots of Manhattan night life, rubbed magnificent elbows with U.S. escapists returning home from the fleshpots of Europe. Few colossal deals would be consummated in the hushed and paneled smoking room...