Word: chintz
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...plot in the piece is about as substantial as a black chiffon nightgown and not half as exciting. Botty Grable, the first woman typist, is sent to Boston to work in an office which soon feels the impact of the distaff side as spitoons go out and chintz comes in. You won't be surprised to know that Dick Haymes is the thriving, moderately blue-blooded manager of the company. Emancipated at last, Miss Grable is soon deep in the suffrage movement, of which Mr. Haymes does not approve. Take it from there...
...August they came back, went about their business as if nothing had happened. Late one night last week they prepared for an important conference in a blue-walled, chintz-curtained Hollywood apartment. Benny slipped a cocked Mauser under the bedsheets and hid a .32 in the closet. Levinson laid down a Gladstone bag containing two sawed-off shotguns. As it turned out, these arrangements proved sadly inadequate...
...books had such a vogue in the '80s that Paris invented a word for it, Greenawisme. Chintz curtains were printed with Greenaway's interpretations of the seasons (a blizzard for January, flowers for June). Greenaway's grave little girls, in long frocks and wide sashes, and her good little boys, in pork pie hats, were painted on dinner sets, turned into salt & pepper shakers; oil lamps were embossed with Greenaway designs; valentines like those from Greenaway's Quiver of Love were de rigueur for little lovers. Samples of these were on display in the Chicago Public...
...Tierney), whose somewhat too-intense love for her husband (Cornel Wilde) leads her to drown his brother, throw herself downstairs, and eventually poison her own coffee. The unhappy story moves through breathtakingly stylish country interiors which make no particular point except to show that the characters have plenty of chintz-upholstered leisure for getting into mischief...
...glass transom was covered with cardboard. Outside the grey-enameled door stood three husky sergeants at arms. Newsmen, bored yet anxious, lounged on the chintz-covered sofas, listening for sounds from behind the guarded door. Occasionally there were voices, strident and angry; then long stretches of muffled buzz-buzz. Finally there came a burst of applause and then, to the tune of the Battle Hymn of the Republic, a full-throated rendition of Solidarity Forever...