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Word: wearingly (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1960-1969
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Usage:

...Cross, followed Calley's platoon into My Lai. "Everyone was shooting," he says. "Some of the huts were torched. Some of the yanigans [his term for young soldiers] were shooting kids." In the confusion, he claims, it was hard to tell "mama-sans from papa-sans," since both wear black pajamas and conical hats. He and his squad helped round up the women and children. When one of his men protested that "I can't shoot these people," West told him to turn the group over to Captain Medina. On the way out of the village, West recalls seeing...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Nation: MY LAI: AN AMERICAN TRAGEDY | 12/5/1969 | See Source »

Likewise, metal work at the University of Massachusetts exulted in qualities that are uniquely metallic. Silver's smooth reflecting surfaces flowed into candelabras, cups and candlesticks. Gold jewelry often shone sleekly and most pieces looked almost too heavy to wear-and heaviness is an important part of gold's mystique...

Author: By Deborah R. Waroff, | Title: Crafts Objects: USA | 12/4/1969 | See Source »

...takes guts to tell off the major networks, something that was long overdue-and we say to them, if the shoe fits, wear...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Letters: Nov. 28, 1969 | 11/28/1969 | See Source »

...Jerry make a wig." Before long, whole bags of hair tumbled in from across the country; at least a dozen bundles arrive daily now. With all of that, Rubin could doubtless fashion a fascinating brindle mop. Instead, he has bought himself a ghastly bouffant woman's wig to wear until his own hair returns to suitably radical length. Surely, going to the barricades in drag is going to give revolution a bad name...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Nation: Hair | 11/28/1969 | See Source »

...Sanctum, slouching in the grand wooden chairs with these mottoes carved in them, and talks about its own survival. Our emotions languish with the seasons, because there is seldom any heat in the building; during the winter, we huddle in our overcoats about the table (many choose to wear gloves and hats) or crouch like Milton's toad before the fireplace, burning old issues of The Advocate to keep warm. Exalted, we are artists, suffering through the cold moment of neglect. Our words perish in the brittle air; we are stunned at seeing our own breath dissolve in clouds above...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: The Advocate Rumors of Grandeur | 11/24/1969 | See Source »

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