Names make news. Last week these names made this news:

During her latest fashion show in Paris, Designer Elsa Schiaparelli watched her picket-thin mannequins parade her creations, then cried, "Stop the show. Where are the bosoms? Where are the hips?" To illustrate, she took a jacket from a model and tried it on herself. When it failed to close across madam's own well-developed bust, she said: "See what I mean? Designers keep forgetting that women are females, human beings with legs, bosoms, hips. I am sick of the cardboard silhouette. I am cutting out the frills, the whalebones, the stiff flounces, all that inhuman nonsense."

Royalty from all Scandinavia gathered in Stockholm to celebrate the 70th birthday of King Gustaf Adolf of Sweden. Among the special events: a gift contributed by his subjects, a check for 5,000,000 kroner ($966,500), which the King said would be used to further Swedish culture; an all-Wagnerian concert by the Royal Court Orchestra, conducted, after shirtsleeved rehearsals, by King Frederik of Denmark.

In the forecourt of Buckingham Palace, the stiff and stately changing of the guard began with the band playing Happy Birthday to You and Teddy Bears' Picnic. As far as the palace was concerned, it was Prince Charles's day; there were no other engagements for papa & mama. After lunch, one of the royal Daimlers took him for a 20-minute visit to his great-grandmother Queen Mary, confined to Marlborough House with a cold, then back to the palace and the big moment: blowing the candles and cutting cake for a dozen young friends. Along with the cakes were jellies and blancmange (which the host refused to eat because they were "too slippery"). After tea in the gold-and-white ballroom, the party adjourned to Charles's favorite playground, the palace corridors, and his pet game, hide & seek.

Supreme Court Justice Felix Frankfurter, pioneer New Dealer who has long advocated retirement from the Supreme Bench at 70, celebrated his 70th birthday at a dinner party in Manhattan.

Presidential Aide Major General Harry Vaughan, looking for a job after Jan. 20, told friends in Milwaukee that he would be willing to serve as a director of some large corporation.

The House Un-American Activities Committee, continuing its search of Who's Who in the Communist world, quizzed Hollywood-Broadway Writer Abe (Guys and Dolls) Burrows, 41, who freely admitted that he had furnished lyrics and piano accompaniment for many a Red gathering in filmland, but had never paid dues nor signed the card. Said he: "If [someone] said I was a Communist Party member he was probably telling the truth as he saw it. I was seen with them. I was around, but I wasn't one of the fellows." Burrows had been "pretty naive," commented Committeeman Harold H. Velde. Said Burrows: "I'll go further than that. I'll say I was stupid." Onetime Cinemactress Karen (Scarface) Morley, with Manhattan's party-lining ex-Congressman Vito Marcantonio along for legal aid, was less naive. She admitted that she was 42 and that her real name was Mildred Linton Vider. But, 33 times when asked questions chiefly about Communist affiliation, she called on the Fifth Amendment and refused to answer.

In New Delhi, speaking to a convention of engineers, India's Nehru gave a description of his capital city that might well apply to Washington. Said he: "It is enervating sitting in this deadly, static atmosphere with people thinking only of pen, ink, papers and figures. That is why I get out of this place and go running about the country all the time."

The announcement that a swamp-voiced Negro singer and a white drummer would be married this week sent excited cables crackling between New York, London and Moline, Ill. The singer: Pearl (Tired) Bailey, 34, a featured Broadway and nightclub star since the early 1940s, who divorced her third husband last spring. The prospective groom: Louis Bellson Jr., 28, who worked his way up through name bands to his present job with Duke Ellington. The romance began two months ago in Washington, where Louis was playing and Pearl was singing in a nightspot nearby. Last week he flew to London with a wedding ring. Preceding him was a four-page cable to Pearl from Louis Bellson Sr., owner of a music shop in Moline. Louis Sr., pleading with Pearl to drop the marriage, vowed to disinherit his son and forbid him to use the family name. At home he told reporters, "I have nothing against her race, but I think she should stay within her race ... I am in no mood to have a colored granddaughter." In London, Louis Jr. told reporters: "We're going ahead with our plans to marry at the Caxton Hall Registry, no matter what father says. We plan to raise four children, maybe more."

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