July 12, 1999 |
The Crash of '99: Get ready to kiss the economy goodbye. We base this dire forecast on today's horoscope column, which advises everyone born under the sign of Taurus to: "Try hand at juggling. Start with two oranges or apples--you will find you have innate talent for this art. Before you know it, you could be booked for vaudeville tour. Scorpio involved."
February 23, 1990 |
After 20 years of importing street fashions from the far corners of the Earth, New York merchant Harvey Russack feared he was running out of new resources. But that was before glasnost paved the way to comrade chic. Now Russack, chairman of Unique Clothing Warehouse, is supplying his four East Coast stores--and department store accounts across the country--with such unlikely fashion statements as genuine Soviet prison uniforms, accessorized with floral scarfs from the Ukraine.
November 8, 1991 |
From the looks of men's lounge wear this season, designers are throwing a wild, lampshade-on-the-head kind of pajama party. There are silk pajamas by Nicole Miller with loud prints that would wake anyone out of a post-party hangover. One pajama top designed for the confirmed couch potato comes littered with beer bottles and pretzels. "They're all based on experiences in my life," says Miller, a New York designer whose humorous prints first gained prominence on her trademark ties.
April 23, 1999 |
The savvy marketing whiz who parlayed a pair of yellow smiley-face underpants into a multimillion dollar novelty phenomenon known as Joe Boxer has a confession to make: He really enjoys going without. "I never wear ties. I never wear underwear, either," says Nicholas Graham, letting out a peal of laughter as he runs a hand through a vertical shock of yellow hair. Making light of underwear has made San Francisco-based Joe Boxer Corp.'s "Chief Underpants Officer" a very rich man.
June 5, 1988 |
The same face that could launch a thousand Soviet missiles or smile over an arms control pact stares out of the mirror at Ron Knapp as he shaves every morning. A little nail polish up top for the birthmark, and the Huntington Beach, Calif., real estate agent is a dead ringer for Mikhail Sergeyevich Gorbachev. "People are shocked. Believe me, they are shocked," says Knapp, one of at least two Gorbachev look-alikes whose schedules are busy with film and public appearances these days.