Word: tarte
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...cuddly guess-what. The visit was to mark the 75th anniversary of the first Teddy bear, named after Alice's father, Teddy Roosevelt. "It has a great big fat swollen face, with a little mouth on the edge. It's just waiting to be loved," shrugged the tart-tongued Princess Alice. "I'm supposed to cherish it. I guess," added Longworth, now 94, who stopped collecting Teddy bears long...
...room, she often lounges in an easy chair, wearing a brown-and-white bell-sleeved housecoat. She spends much of her time making telephone calls, doing puzzles, knitting, nibbling on mints and eating ordinary hospital food (a typical lunch: steak and kidney pie with mashed potatoes, followed by fruit tart). Occasionally, added the Evening Chronicle, she has become weepy and depressed, and was briefly worried, until reassured by other expectant mothers, about the seemingly small size of the baby in relation to the weeks of pregnancy. Steptoe apparently tried to get her to stop smoking, but she still sneaks...
Clouseau's helpmate is a comic actress who once seemed to have quit movies altogether: Dyan Cannon. But after a four-year absence, she is reveling in the kind of role she plays best: a particularly tart (and tartish) genus of smart dumb blonde. Besides appearing in Panther, she nearly steals Warren Beatty's box-office smash Heaven Can Wait, playing the spacy wife who drips diamonds and drops crudities as she plots Beatty's murder...
...this sardonic unraveling of Establishmentarian rottenness. The sleuth is doughty Detective-Inspector Henry Peckover, a passable published poet who can no more aspirate his aitches than preserve his skull from duggery. Relegated by Scotland Yard to a dead-end fraud investigation, he links the murder of a May fair tart to a web of political, financial and sexual hanky-panky that encompasses a titled M.P., a police chief superintendent who turns drag queen by night, Middlesex pols and proles, bird hunters of all varieties and an Arab sheik bent on making the green and pheasant land an adjunct of Riyadh...
...into an épée to prod this fopling across the stage and out of her sight. Her face flares in coquettish outrage at brash Basil's proffered kisses; she singes and melts at the same time. When she is onstage with the demented man of La Mancha, the tart señorita turns spindrift. She not only sees his visions but sees around them. Her poignant movements tell everyone watching what she knows: she is the earthly incarnation of the Don's beloved Dulcinea and how sad that life and visions cannot meet. Gelsey is, in short...