Word: velvet
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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After a slam-bang 40,000-mile dash through 17 countries, Washington's Hostess-with-Mostes' Perle Mesta, still a little breathless in her mink stole and red velvet cloche, reported to a gathering of local newshens: "The Far East is sizzling." Of her near-fatal brush with rioting Vietnamese students in Saigon (TIME, Aug. 1), the lady who has often placated riotous guests with caviar and champagne confessed: "I had no idea what a mob was like. It was a miracle that I got out of Saigon with all my luggage." Biggest flop of her trip came...
...Much Fruit. At the royal palace, his fingertips pressed together in the customary seraphic greeting, Sihanouk played benign host, introducing the visitors to his royal parents and apologizing for not feeding them all: "You are so many, I would be broke." From his gilded, red velvet throne, King Suramarit received his gifts with regal gratitude: "Oh, the beautiful fruit." Concurred his son: "It's really too much, too much...
...went Juan Perón's "pacificator" program, the relaxation and concessions spill ing out almost daily, but always in a way that suggested that there was still steel inside the velvet glove. Whatever the true explanation, it appeared that the June 16 revolt, though a military fiasco, may have been something of a revolution after...
Suddenly, Ike found himself in a covey of society reporters who wanted to know which dress he liked best. He easily ruled out Grace Coolidge's red velvet, low-waisted, high-hemmed style of the '20s. "A little odd," thought the President. Then, glancing to see that Mamie was out of earshot, he blurted, "I guess I like that one on Mrs. McKinley." Ida Saxton McKinley was indeed handsome in high-necked, ivory-hued satin with flowing train. Not pretty oldfashioned? asked a newshen. "Well, I guess so," Ike admitted, reluctant to be pinned down any more...
...stride, of paying a compliment or wearing a coat. It was something men commanded in the stress of business . . ." And in the stress of the business of criticism, Kronenberger commands an unmatched style. For he can balance a sentence as if it were a crown jewel on a velvet pillow; and he can also, occasionally, throw the pillow across the hall at a particularly dull archdeacon. The chief merit of The Republic of Letters (besides establishing the author as one of that republic's leading citizens) is a feeling it generates in the reader-the feeling that the books...