Word: satined
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...pairs as 1929. To the names of Anne and Augustus (Lindbergh) were added Ina and John (Gilbert), presently to be followed by Florence and John (Coolidge). Last week in anticipation of the event Mrs. Coolidge went on a little journey with her daughter-in-law-to-be?whose ivory satin princess wedding gown by Patou, cap of duchesse lace and bouquet of orchids and lilies of the valley were already matters of record. Together they visited New Haven, where John is a clerk in the offices of the New York, New Haven & Hartford R. R., and inspected the four-room...
...favorite for long with Argentine circusgoers was "Blackamon, the Living Corpse." A swarthy, stocky Italian, Corpse Blackamon favored satin turbans and gaudy oriental robes, fascinated the steeply banked audiences in Buenos Aires' permanent single-ring circus by sticking pins through his cheeks and arms. Invariably he climaxed his performance by shuddering, screaming, and going into a trance. Uniformed attendants lifted the rigid Blackamon into a specially prepared glass-faced coffin, buried him eight feet deep in the sandy floor of the circus ring. For three hours he would remain there while clowns tumbled and horses cantered above...
John David, New York chain store clothier, laid the cornerstone of gala headquarters last week, gave dress prophecies. He envisioned men bare-legged from ankle to knee, wearing roomy shorts instead of trousers, porous and mesh materials, vivid sandals, formal attire of silk or satin knee breeches, cutaway coat, colored waistcoat, buckled shoes...
...whole murky city are better known or more consistently photographed than the two living statues that guard Britain's War Office-the living mounted sentries of the Horse Guards. Splendid, remote and eternal, they stand in their little sentry boxes: two coal-black horses, currycombed to satin smoothness; two six-foot troopers in jackboots, silver breastplates, plumed helmets. Not even when irreverent trippers tempt the chargers with raw carrots, or drop peanut shells into the troopers' boot tops, do they move...
Obviously there is no great distinction between the Connecticut merchant who shouts for the maiming of a halfback and the thums-down plebeian of the Rome of Caligula. There is less between the Park Avenue matron in sables, emeralds and satin and the Rhine countess who wore at dance festivals the plunder of there unguarded trade routes. The stadium seems, however, somewhat more than a link between the varied ages and concession to the gregarious instinct. It is for those Americans who have diminished interest in the ordained issues of politics and ecclesiastics, a necessary focal center, necessary because...