Word: navel
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...slowly, slowly, I began to look up. I began to notice that people were looking at me as I passed them in my haughty navel-gazing funk. They were trying to offer me a friendly greeting, and they looked miffed and a bit hurt by my tunnel vision...
What do you do after you've pierced your ears, your eyebrows, your lips, your nose and your navel? Why, pierce your tongue, of course! Especially if you're a Spice Girl--or a twentysomething genetically programmed to drive your parents crazy. But lately, doctors have started to be worried as well. In the past 18 months, three different dental journals have published articles about the untoward medical and dental effects of tongue piercing. As you might expect, the dentists are against...
...fact, the athletes looked just like classic kids but in Speed Generation gear. "It's amazing," marveled Shiva Keshavan, 16, the Indian luger, of the sport he took up 18 months ago. "I go faster than most cars do." Jennifer Rodriguez, a Miami speed skater with a pierced navel and a pierced-tongue speed-skating boyfriend, confesses, "Deep down, a little bit of everybody, no matter how rebellious you are, wants to go to the Olympics and just enjoy the magic...
...author herself seems to realize, was merely a limited, self-absorbed woman. But in book after book (notably a brilliant, tormented novel, The Autobiography of My Mother), Kincaid displays the wounds of her unhappy childhood as a poor, bookish black girl in Antigua. Her new volume, an irritating navel contemplation titled My Brother (Farrar, Straus & Giroux; 198 pages; $19), repeats the pattern of familiar, well-written complaint. (Opinions differ; in what appears to be a makeup call for earlier, fresher books overlooked, My Brother has been nominated for a National Book Award...
...hasn't turned out that way, not even in Greenwich Village, the navel of the counterculture, where the tides of the '60s would be least likely to have receded. Alexandra and her friend Harlequin Rose (nee Cheryl LaRosa) are standing around by the particular tree where teenage hippies, goths, techno-goths and freaks from all over the New York City area congregate. Later--much later--they may try to get into the Bank, the Pyramid Club, whatever, to dance all night and get blasted by music. But right now they are holding forth for a middle-aged reporter...