Word: sleeked
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...take a 10-minute taxi ride to the Dongtai Road antiques market, where crowded stalls offer everything from kitschy Mao memorabilia to exquisitely carved Qing dynasty wooden doors hauled from nearby mountain villages. For more modern fare, hail another taxi for a five-minute ride west to the small, sleek ShanghART Gallery, where avant-garde artists show off their best work. The gallery is nestled in Fuxing Park, a secluded green space where pensioners go through the dreamlike motions of Tai Chi or hone their falsettos to traditional Shanghai opera...
...above Artemisia Gentileschi in the pantheon of feminist art-saints. The live Colombian is probably the richest artist alive, the unbearably repetitious and banal Fernando Botero, 69, who has made millions, millions and millions of dollars painting and sculpting mountainously fat people over and over and over again. These sleek, bloated lumps of cellulite have the same appeal to the international nouveau riche that the semi-skeletal poor of Picasso's Blue Period used...
...Fast-forward to Jang's latest project, Resurrection of the Little Match Girl, a big-budget cyberfantasy that he's shooting in the southeast port city of Pusan. On location there isn't a whip or handheld camera in sight. A sleek stunt team from Hong Kong bustles about, fine-tuning a barroom shoot-out featuring a gunslinging, transgender Chinese starlet. You can afford that with a $5.5 million budget, which makes this Korea's priciest film production of all time. Forget the art-house crowd. This time Jang is worried about pleasing his investors and drumming up big ticket...
...women can rejoice in the freedom of movement afforded by a silhouette that is as short on short skirts as it is on the spiky bracelets, studded handbags and other hard-edged accessories that were hot five minutes ago. Clotheshorses can get in touch with their inner sportswomen in sleek, graceful wools and leathers eminently practical for a brisk pony ride down Fifth Avenue or a fox hunt in the backyard...
...only strictly literary problem might seem to arise among those authors whose novels describe the lives of the poor. It would not make sense, or be good business, for example, to portray the Joad family traveling west in a sleek eight-cylinder Packard sedan, Tom Joad's diamond Rolex flashing in the Dust Bowl air. The poor do not make good ads..... Or do they? Might be edgy possibilities here, a kind of Walker Evans chic - a good spread in Vanity Fair, page after page of gaunt black-and-white shots, weathered Depression faces, a certain erotic poverty...