Word: sweatered
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...Today almost every French woman has her own personal family war work to do because she has a brother, fiance, husband, father or uncle in the Army who needs cigarets, socks, a sweater, favorite articles of food, regular letters of affectionate encouragement and such efforts as she can make toward attending to his neglected affairs. Thousands of French women are holding their husbands' jobs today as bus conductors, mail carriers, taxi drivers, and in stores and factories...
...freshman she pulls on her sweater, rolls up her sleeves, and plunges in to college professors whenever she feels the need of tutelage (there are discussion groups, no lectures, no textbooks). Steadily, humorlessly, the film photographs Joan under the watchful eye of her adviser, or "Don"; Joan on her self-chosen "project"; Joan earnestly typing in a barebacked bathing suit while her friends loll, sunbathe; Joan aiming a camera at two naked tots at the nursery school provided by Sarah Lawrence for students of Child Psychology, Personality Development, and The Family. Like Joan, other student actresses find their texts outside...
...tuition charges amounting to $1,700 a year might be a good reason for Joan's attention to business, but most of the girls are well-off, although there are 33 scholarships, ranging from $100 to $1,000. Generally the girls can afford to be sloppy in sweater & skirt, rumpled polo coat and smudged saddle shoes, as Joan is, but they can also afford expensive outfits. Sarah Lawrence has climbed high in women's education, has earned the reputation of being among the best of women's progressive colleges.* It also has the reputation, which the faculty...
Time was when Dartmouth men had a blue suit for Sunday, a sweater and slacks for weekdays. The transition has come suddenly and strangely; we're not sure we like it; we certainly can't explain it, and our heart goes out to the individual caught between two eras, risking a split personality as he is buffered back and forth between the old and the new, not knowing where to turn. We have in mind a man we saw at Sunday dinner. Dressed in a new tweed jacket, of whalebone pattern, and wearing the black knit tie, he pulled from...
...William Capps hung on for about a quarter of a mile. Then he dropped from the train and crawled into a weed clump. His foot was a pulp and he was afraid of gangrene. Gritting his teeth, he pulled out his penknife, carefully cut off his foot, twisted his sweater around the stump to stop the bleeding...