Word: woolens
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...around their necks, the fact remains: despite that cool devil-may-care demeanor, they’re freakin’ cold, and the organic nonfat soy sugar-free vanilla latte they’re clutching in the other hand doesn’t help. Whatever happened to the fluffy woolen winter scarves that actually man the front-lines against frostbite and wind-chafed skin? Unless global warming turns Cambridge into a desert and the Square into a sandstorm, let’s keep our kaffiyehs where they belong: in the drawers next to our granny panties and hot pink...
...from the mouth of your run of the mill Joe Hetero, these remarks sound ludicrous. Men, for whatever reason, seem largely content with themselves as they are. Noel Coward, not your typical Joe Hetero, admitted, “First thing in the morning I have a face like a woolen mat. And yet I am the most desirable man in the world.” The world could stand more women who share that sentiment...
...Across town, in an eight-month-old processing warehouse run by India's largest company, Reliance Industries, half a dozen women wearing balaclavas, woolen trousers and bulky jackets work inside a room kept at a constant 3?C, peeling and chopping vegetables, spinning them dry and then heaping them in small plastic packets before placing them in plastic transport crates. At the other end of the 5,600-sq-m warehouse, men unload crates of grapes from a truck pulled up to a spotless loading dock. A quality-control expert samples every tenth crate; if the grapes are good...
...thousands of victims of Darfur, hope is nearly extinguished. In Touloum, I meet a filthy young man in rags, distractedly unpicking the threads of a knitted woolen cap. Diar, the camp chief, introduces him as Abdoolcarim Abdur, or "Adam." Diar says Adam, 22, saw his entire family cut down in front of him in 2004, and--as has happened to 40% of Darfur's survivors, according to Mdecins Sans Frontires--something snapped. Adam became alternately petrified and violent, convinced that another Janjaweed onslaught was imminent. Afraid of his outbursts, his fellow refugees carried him to Chad tied...
...When No. 10 got back on his feet, chest-bouncing the football toward his fellow players, his teammates rewarded him with loud "well done" cheers, as if he had come off with an unexpected triumph. "He plays well. But in summer," sniped 59-year-old Antonin Votruba, shaking his woolen pompom-topped red-white club hat. His buddies nodded knowingly. No. 10 himself misses the warm weather...