Vogue (pronounced vohg)
(1) Something in fashion at a particular time or in a
particular place.
(2) An expression of popular currency, acceptance, or
favor.
(3) A highly stylized modern dance that evolved out of
the Harlem ballroom scene in the 1960s, the name influenced by the fashion
magazine; one who practiced the dance was a voguer who was voguing.
(4) In Polari, a cigarette or to light a cigarette (often
in the expression “vogue me up”).
1565–1575: From the Middle English vogue (height of popularity or accepted fashion), from the Middle
French vogue (fashion, success (literally, “wave or course of success”)), from
the Old French vogue (a rowing), from
voguer (to row, sway, set sail), from
the Old Saxon wegan (to move) & wogōn (to sway, rock), a variant of wagōn (to float, fluctuate), from the Proto-Germanic
wagōną (to sway, fluctuate) and the Proto-Germanic
wēgaz (water in motion), wagōną (to sway, fluctuate), wēgaz (water in motion) & weganą (to move, carry, weigh), from the
primitive Indo-European weǵh- (to move, go, transport
(and an influence on the English way).
The forms were akin to the Old Saxon wegan (to move), the Old High German wegan (to move), the Old English wegan (to move, carry, weigh), the Old
Norse vaga (to sway, fluctuate), the Old
English wagian (to sway, totter), the
Proto-West Germanic wagōn, the German
Woge (wave) and the Swedish våg.
A parallel development the Germanic forms was the Spanish boga (rowing) and the Old Italian voga (a rowing), from vogare (to row, sail), of unknown origin
and the Italianate forms were probably some influence on the development of the
verb. Vogue & voguer are nouns (voguette
an informal noun), voguing is a noun and adjective, vogued is a verb and vogueing
& voguish are adjectives; the noun
plural is vogues.
All etymologists seem to concur the modern meaning is
from the notion of being "borne along on the waves of fashion" and
colloquially the generalized sense of "fashion, reputation" is probably
from the same Germanic source. The phrase
“in vogue” (having a prominent place in popular fashion) was recorded as long
ago as 1643. The fashion magazine (now
owned by Condé Nast) began publication in 1892 and the young devotees of its
advice are voguettes. In linguistics, vogue
words are those words & phrases which become suddenly (although not always neologisms)
popular and fade from use or becoming clichéd or hackneyed forms (wardrobe malfunction;
awesome; problematic; at this point in time; acid test; in this space; parameters;
paradigm et al). Because it’s so
nuanced, vogue has no universal synonym but words which tend to the same meaning
(and can in some circumstances be synonymous) include latest, mod, now, rage,
chic, craze, currency, custom, fad, favor, mode, popularity, practice,
prevalence, style, stylishness, thing, trend & usage.
In Cornwall, the hamlet of Vogue in the parish of St Day gained
its name from the Medieval Cornish vogue
word for a medieval smelting furnace (blowing house); producing much smoke,
vogue was also a word used to mean “fog or mist”. Clearly better acquainted with law than
geography, in early 2022 counsel for Condé Nast sent a cease and desist letter
to the inn-keeper of the village’s The Star Inn at Vogue pub,
demanding the place change its name to avoid any public perception of a
connection between the two businesses.
The pub’s owners declined the request and Condé Nast subsequently apologized,
citing insufficient investigation by their staff.
1981 Range Rover In Vogue from the first run with the standard stylized steel wheels (left) and a later 1981 In Vogue with the three-spoke aluminum units.
Much of the 1970s was spent in what to many felt like a
recession, even if there were only some periods in some places during which the technical
definition was fulfilled and the novel phenomenon of stagflation did disguise some
of the effects. Less affected than most (of course) were the rich who had discovered a new status-symbol, the Range Rover
which, introduced in 1970 had essentially created the luxury four-wheel-drive
(4WD) segment although the interior of the original was very basic, the car’s
reputation based on the excellence of the engineering. So good was the Range Rover, both on and off-road that owners, used to being cosseted in leather and walnut, wanted
something closer to that to which they were accustomed and dealers received
enquiries about an up-market version.
That had been Rover’s original intention. The plan had been to release a basic version
powered by four cylinder engines and a luxury edition with a V8 but by 1970
time and development funds had run out so the car was released with the V8
power-train and an interior so utilitarian it could be hosed out, something which
was touted as a competitive advantage although it’s doubtful it was a feature many owners chose to exploit. However, if
the rich were riding out the decade well, British Leyland (which owned Rover) was
not and it lacked the resources to devote to the project. Others took advantage of what proved a profitable
niche and the rich could choose from a variety of limited-production and
bespoke offerings including long-wheelbase models, four-door conversions, six
wheelers and even open-topped versions from a variety of coach-builders such as
Wood & Pickett and low-volume manufacturers like Switzerland’s Monteverdi
which anticipated the factory by a number of years with their four-door
coachwork.
However, British Leyland was soon subject to one of the
many re-organizations which would seek (without success) to make it a healthy
corporation and one consequence was increased autonomy for the division making
Range Rovers. No longer forced to
subsidize less profitable arms of the business, attention was turned to the
matter of a luxury model, demand for which clearly existed. To test market reaction, in late 1980, the
factory collaborated with Wood & Pickett to design a specially-equipped two-door
model as a proof-of-concept exercise to gauge market reaction. The prototype (HAC 414W) was lent to Vogue
magazine, a crafty choice given the demographic profile of the readership and
the by then well-known extent of women’s own purchasing power and influence on
that of their husbands. Vogue took the
prototype to Biarritz to be the photographic backdrop for the images taken for the
magazine’s co-promotion of the 1981 Lancôme and Jaeger fashion collections,
published in an eight-page advertising spread entitled Rendez-vous à Biarritz in the March 1981 edition. The response was remarkable and while Lancôme
and Jaeger’s launch attracted polite attention, Vogue’s mailbox (which then was letters in
envelopes with postage stamps) was overwhelmingly filled with enquiries about
the blinged-up Range-Rover.
Rover had expected demand to be strong and the reaction
to the Vogue spread justified their decision to prepare for a production run
even before publication and the Range Rover In
Vogue went on sale early in 1981, the limited-edition run all replicas of
the photo shoot car except for the special aluminum wheels. The three-spoke wheels (based on the design
Ford had used on the 1979 (Fox) Mustang) had actually proved a problem in
Biarritz, the factory supplying the wrong lug nuts which had a tendency to
fall off, meaning the staff travelling with the car had to check prior to each
shoot to ensure five were present on each wheel which would appear in the picture. Not until later in the year would the wheels
be ready so the In Vogue’s went to
market with the standard stylized steel units, meaning the brochures had to be
pulped and reprinted with new photographs.
Quite how many were made remains unclear. The factory said 1000 would be built, all in
right hand drive (RHD) but many left hand drive (LHD) examples seem to exist and
it’s thought demand from the continent was such that another batch was built although
this has never been confirmed. The In
Vogue’s exclusive features were:
Light blue metallic (the model-exclusive Vogue Blue) paint with twin broad coach-lines in two-tone grey
High-compression (9.35:1) V8 engine
Transfer box with taller (0.996:1) high ratio
Air conditioning
Polished-wood door cappings
Stowage box between front seats
Map pockets on back of front seats
Fully carpeted load area
Carpeted spare wheel cover and tool kit
curtain
Custom picnic hamper mounted in rear load-space
Stainless steel tailgate capping
Black centre caps for the wheels
Condé Nast would later describe the In Vogue’s custom picnic hamper as the car’s piece de resistance. Demand for the In Vogue far exceeded supply and production runs of various volumes followed before the Vogue in 1984 became the regular production top-of-the-range model for many years (although when sold in the US it was called the Country). For both companies, the In Vogue (and the subsequent Vogues) turned out to be the perfect symbiosis.
Vogue, January 1925, cover art by Georges Lepape.
From the start, Vogue was of course about frocks, shoes and such but its influence extended over the years to fields as diverse as interior decorating and industrial design. The work of Georges Lepape (1887-1971) has long been strangely neglected in the history of art deco but he was a fine practitioner whose reputation probably suffered because his compositions have always been regarded as derivative or imitative which seems unfair given there are many who are more highly regarded despite being hardly original. His cover art for Vogue’s edition of 1 January 1925 juxtaposed one of French artist Sonia Delaunay’s (1885–1979) "simultaneous" pattern dresses and a Voisin roadster decorated with an art deco motif.
One collector in 2015 was so taken with Pepape’s image that when refurbishing his 1927 Voisin C14 Lumineuse (literally “light”, an allusion to the Voisin’s greenhouse-inspired design which allowed natural light to fill the interior), he commissioned Dutch artist Bernadette Ramaekers to hand-paint a geometric triangular pattern in sympathy with that on the Vogue cover in 1925. Ms Ramaekers toook six months to complete the project and the car is now being offered at auction.
Voisin's extraordinary visions: 1934 C27 Aérosport (left), 1934-1935 Voisin C25 Aérodynes (centre) & 1931 C20 Mylord Demi Berline (right).
There are few designers as deserving of such a tribute as French aviation pioneer Gabriel Voisin (1880–1973) who made military aircraft during the First World War (1914-1918) and, under the name Avions Voisin, produced a remarkable range of automobiles between 1919-1939, encapsulating thus the whole inter-war period and much of the art deco era. Because his designs were visually so captivating, much attention has always been devoted to his lines, curves and shapes but the underlying engineering was also interesting although some of his signature touches, like the (briefly in vogue) sleeve valve engine, proved a mirage. Also a cul-de-sac was his straight-12 engine. Slow-running straight-12 (there is even a straight-14 which displaces 25,340 litres (1,546,000 cubic inches) and produces 107,290 hp (80,080 kW)) engines are actually not uncommon at sea where they’re used in big container ships but on the road (apart from some slow-running engines in military vehicles), only Voisin and Packard ever attempted them, the former making two, the latter, one. Voisin’s concept was simple enough; it was two straight-6s joined together, end-on-end, the same idea many had used to make things like V12s (2 x V6s) straight-8s (2 x straight-4s) and even V24s (2 x V12s) but the sheer length of a straight-12 in a car presented unique problems in packaging and the management of the torsional vibrations induced by the elongated crankshaft.
1934 Voisin C15 Saloit Roadster.
The length of the straight-12 meant an extraordinary amount of the vehicle’s length had to be devoted to housing just the engine and that resulted in a high number for what designers call the dash-to-axle ratio. That was one of the many reasons the straight-12 never came into vogue and indeed was one of the factors which doomed the straight-8, a configuration which at least had some redeeming features. Voisin must however have liked the appearance of the long hood (bonnet) because the striking C15 Saloit Roadster (which could have accommodated a straight-12) was powered by a straight-4, a sleeve valve Knight of 2500 cm³ (153 cubic inch). The performance doubtlessly didn’t live up to the looks but so sensuous were those looks that many would forgive the lethargy.
Using one of his trademark outdoor settings, Norman Parkinson (1913-1990) photographed model Suzanne Kinnear (b 1935) adorning a Daimler SP250, wearing a Kashmoor coat and Otto Lucas beret with jewels by Cartier. The image was published on the cover of Vogue's UK edition in November 1959.
The Daimler SP250 was first shown to the public at the 1959 New York Motor Show and there the problems began. Aware the little sports car was quite a departure from the luxurious but rather staid line-up Daimler had for years offered, the company had chosen the pleasingly alliterative “Dart” as its name, hoping it would convey the sense of something agile and fast. Unfortunately, Chrysler’s lawyers were faster still, objecting that they had already registered Dart as the name for a full-sized Dodge so Daimler needed a new name and quickly; the big Dodge would never be confused with the little Daimler but the lawyers insisted.
Imagination apparently exhausted, Daimler’s management reverted to the engineering project name and thus the car became the SP250 which was innocuous enough even for Chrysler's attorneys and it could have been worse. Dodge had submitted their Dart proposal to Chrysler for approval and while the car found favor, the name did not and the marketing department was told to conduct research and come up with something the public would like. From this the marketing types gleaned that “Dodge Zipp” would be popular and to be fair, dart and zip(p) do imply much the same thing but ultimately the original was preferred and Darts remained in Dodge’s lineup until 1976, for most of that time one of the corporation's best-selling and most profitable lines. The name was revived between 2012-2016 for an unsuccessful and unlamented compact sedan.
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