Word: turbaned
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...skeleton which was shining in the moonlight and shaking in the draught. But what used to frighten the museum caretakers the most was a ferocious-looking Arab who habitually did research in the museum at 5:00 a.m. No man would not quake upon seeing the blue-suited white-turban-clad Arab, standing amidst dummy Anthropology exhibits, suddenly turn about and stare at him in the dawn stillness in Peabody Museum...
When the scarf reaches ten feet, it is an easy step to twenty feet, and from there to thirty feet, and so on. Many people could own the same scarf and wear it at the same time, as a turban, sarong, or plain old muffler. And particularly crafty young men would buy one scarf, then cut it into two or three equal or unequal sections for presentation to their current lady friends. Interesting sidelights would be scarf bundling parties and scarf rides. It certainly looks like the "More Than Six Footer" is a good thing and is here to stay...
Best of all, they liked the infrequent glimpses of her straight-backed figure, in long, lavender coat and jeweled turban, stalking through the rubble of wartime London with her inevitable, restless, prying umbrella, authoritative as a royal mace, or the sight of the old Queen pottering in & out of antique shops, slipping into the back row of suburban movie theaters, sweeping down Pall Mall in her towering automobile. "I think they call it a Daimler," she told a bemused G.I. to whom she gave a ride...
...Godiva in the Easter Parade--she wouldn't be without a chapeau to top her ensemble. Your red oilskins may go very well with rain, but you shouldn't be blind to the flattery the right shape can add; the sailor hat, the princesse, the cloche, the cartwheel, the turban, the coolie-surely one of these set off your face. Of course, if your desire softness and subtley, you can luxuriate in flowers, fruits feathers, wires fauna, flora, and rope...
...gallop in a rising cloud of dust is unforgettable. Stop a car along one of the lonely, untraveled roads of Kurdistan, and you're almost sure to attract such a visitor. He comes thundering down on you as though he were leading a cavalry charge. A tasseled turban flies above his fierce, lean face, and the wind turns his wide, baggy pants into balloons. A rifle is slung across his back, and from the sash about his waist there hangs a great, curved dagger. As he reins up, he scowls ferociously and you murmur "Salaam" or "Marhaba" in greeting...