Word: jacketful
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Shored Remains. Meanwhile the Tunku was busy shoring up what remains of the federation. Clad in bush jacket and white straw hat, he flew to Kuching, capital of Sarawak state, where politicians were a bit miffed that the Singapore secession had been arranged without consulting other Malaysian states. After some explaining, Abdul Rahman assured Chief Minister Stephen Kalong Ningkan and his Cabinet that they were vitally needed in the federation. Ningkan, well aware that Sarawak lacks the resources to support itself if independent, said Rahman's visit should "do a great deal to dispel whatever anxieties our people...
...Metropolitan Museum of Art gave a black-tie party to celebrate the opening of its "Three Centuries of American Painting" exhibition, Edie and Andy stood cheek by jowl with Lady Bird Johnson, Mrs. Vincent Astor and Harry Guggenheim. Andy was wearing yellow sunglasses and a ragged tuxedo jacket over paint-splattered black work pants. Edie had dyed her hair silver (to match Andy's), wore lilac pajamas that covered nothing but a body stocking. Since then, they have gone to more parties than a caterer, sometimes staying for just a moment before moving on to the next...
...more money Sage accumulated, the more he wanted. But he dressed like a man who had just come from a rummage sale: shiny serge jacket, frayed grey vest, floppy black trousers, and square-toed brogans. One day a demented broker marched into Sage's office. In one hand he held a note demanding that Sage give him $1,200,000; in the other hand he held a bag of dynamite. Sage eased a visitor between himself and the dynamite, dashed for the exit. When the smoke cleared away, the broker was dead, the visitor was badly mangled, Sage...
...crooner is a suave, smoky-eyed predator. His natural habitat is the supper club, his prey the middle-aged female. Cologned, imperially trim, hair sculptured and pomaded, he moves in the spotlight's golden glow like a young god, a smiling vision in pancake makeup, velvet-trimmed dinner jacket, and patent-leather shoes...
...year and a half has been writing breathless, semi-surrealistic articles for Esquire and the New York Herald Tribune's Sunday magazine, New York. A collection of these pieces comes out this week as a $5.50 book called The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby. On the dust jacket the publishers tout Wolfe as quite a conversation piece: people "have been talking happily about him, singing his praises, debating about their favorite pieces, planning branches of The New Tom Wolfe Fan Club." Well, people have been talking unhappily about him, too, lampooning his literary mannerisms and planning branches...