Flookerang & Fratzog

Flookerang (pronounced flook–ah-rang)

A corporate logo adopted in 1957 by Chrysler Corporation for use in promoting the dramatically restyled versions of the company’s “Forward Look” designs (1955-1956).

1957: The construct was flook + (boom)erang.  Now mostly obsolete, flook was an alternative spelling of fluke (in the sense of “blade at the end of an anchor”).  In wide nautical use, flook (fluke) was used of any of the triangular blades at an anchor’s end, the appendages there to “catch” on the seabed or riverbed, keeping the vessel moored in position (ie not drifting away with the tide).  In armaments design, the flook was a metal hook that appeared close to the tip of many staff weapons (such as a bill) with the effect in combat depending on use; if thrust, could be penetrative (armor or flesh as need be) while if swung it could work as a “grappling hook”.  Fluke & flook are old words, documented since at least the tenth century although, anchors, staff weapons, arrowheads and such having by then been in use for millennia, the forms may well be more ancient.  The origin was the Middle English flok, fluke & flewke, from the Old English flōcand and cognate with the Old Norse flōki; it may be compared with the Old High German flah (flat (source of the modern German flach)), from the Proto-Germanic flakaz although for technical reasons related to the phonetics, etymologists seem to prefer a link with the Middle Low German vlögel (wing) and the Germanic vlōch & vlucht (used in the sense of both “wing” & “flight”) or even vlunke (the modern Low German Flunk (wing, pinion)).  The modern use in German of fluke to describe the tail of whales and such is thought borrowed from English.  The use of sea creatures came from the Old English flōc (flatfish), of Germanic origin, related to the German flach (flat), the Old Saxon flaka (sole), the Old High German flah (smooth) and the Old Norse floke (flatfish, flounder, flak, floe; disk), all ultimately from Proto-Germanic flakaz, from the primitive Indo European root plak- (to be flat).  The parasitic worm was so named in the 1660s by virtue of the distinctive (flat) shape.

A Flookerang: Chrysler corporation brochure, 1958.

In general use, “fluke” has become familiar as the description of the two lobes of the tails of whales (or similar creatures) and whales “fluking” their tails (appearing above the surface just as a deep dive is about to begin) have long been an Instagram staple; once hunted close to extinction for their meat and oil, the charismatic beasts are now among nature’s most prolific content providers although their flukes do occasionally suffer the indignity of being labelled “fishtails”.  Being mammals, they belong to the order Cetacea and are within the zoological class Mammalia, not Pisces.  Interestingly, although “fluke” & “flook” were historically used of the barbed projections added to some arrowheads, the terms seemed to have vanished from modern specialist terminology, replaced by “barbed arrowhead”, the two projections (pointing backwards towards the shaft) designed to resist withdrawal after penetration (and doing victim much damaged during the extraction).  The link with (in this case unfortunate) whales is that the biggest of the barbs were on the biggest of the arrows (the harpoons on whaling ships).  The variant in Scots English was fluik, known to be in use by at least the early seventeenth century.  The way use evolved differently in specialist vocabularies does make sense with nautical jargon retaining fluke or flook for an anchor's broad, seabed-catching blades while in archery, the industry settled on “barb”, presumably because the purpose of the structures mirrored the natural world, barbs in animals and plants doing much the same job.  Boomerang entered English texts only in 1827 and was from būmariny (missile weapon used by Australian Aborigines (a historic term for the native tribes in the continent of Australia, now generally classified as “indigenous” or “first nations” peoples)), the recorded phonetic form of a word in one of the now extinct languages spoken by the Dharuk people native to an area in what is now NSW (New South Wales) and known to geographers as the Sydney Basin.  A word pronounced as wo-mur-rang was noted in NSW in 1798 and it may have been related but there’s no documentary evidence.  Flookerang is a noun, Fratzonic is an adjective and Fratzonically is an adverb; the noun plural is Flookerangs.

1957 Chrysler brochure with Flookerang.  While the 1957 cars were (for better and worse) immensely influential, Virgil's real masterpiece was the 1955-1956 “Forward Look”; frankly, there he should have paused for a few seasons.

Although the The Flookerang can best be described as a pair of stylized boomerangs, one with an especially acute angle overlaid atop another in a more conventional shape and it can be assumed Chrysler used flook in the sense of the appendages on weapons rather than the homophonic fluke’s sense of (1) a lucky or improbable occurrence unlikely to be repeated or (2) to by pure chance obtain a successful outcome (although, in retrospect, there was an element of both in the corporation’s 1957 ranges).  The shape obviously was abstract and did not represent one of Chrysler’s manufacturing divisions (in 1957: Plymouth, Dodge, DeSoto, Chrysler & Imperial) or a specific model or range.  It was instead a mid-century modernist allusion to the latest version of the company’s “Forward Look” design, introduced for the 1955 season and styled by Virgil Exner (1909–1973; vice president of styling, Chrysler Corporation 1957-1962).  The 1955-1956 Chryslers were for the corporation a watershed because although the mechanical engineering had always been sound (in some ways, often industry-leading), by the late 1940s the styling of the cars had become “frumpy”, a product of the design ethos of Kaufman Thuma “K.T.” Keller (1885–1966; president of Chrysler Corporation 1935-1950 and chairman of the board 1950-1956) who believed a car should be able to be “driven by a gentleman with his fedora or Stetson on”.  This resulted in cars that were tall & boxy; while comfortable to sit inside and drive, they looked old-fashioned and out of step with styling trends from Europe or elsewhere in Detroit.  Basic engineering was the message (“function over fashion” in the modern parlance) and although there were critics of the approach (including many within Chrysler), Keller was unmoved, quoted as saying that while none of the corporation’s cars would: “…knock your eyes out, neither will they knock your hat off as you enter or exit”.  He also had earthier ways of explaining his philosophy.

Flookerang variations: 1958 Plymouth Fury (left), 1961 Dodge Dart Phoenix (centre) and 1961 Plymouth Fury (right).

Trouble was, in the unexpectedly prosperous US of the early 1950s, folk were becoming more interested in style and less in their hats and when Exner’s “Ford Look” appeared late in 1954, buyers responded to “longer, lower, wider” as predictably they would for most of the next two decades.  The lines were elegant, the dimensions well proportioned and, at least in the more expensive versions, there was nicely detailing and it was a direction the industry could have taken but the US of the mid 1950s had become something of a candy-store and there were lots of kids with pocket money; prosperity begat excess.  Exner’s 1957 range more than any was the one that ushered in mass-market fins and a half-decade of bloat in the American automobile; in retrospect, it was “the curse of plenty”.  Still, the macropterous era was among the most memorable era in an industry that’s had a few and, if excess there must be, it should be “laid on with a trowel”; that Exner’s re-styling for 1957 did but within a couple of seasons, compared with the ways GM (General Motors) outposts like Buick and Cadillac would explore the theme, the 1957 Chryslers appeared (almost) restrained.  By contrast with the extravagance seen on the cars the emblem was created to promote, the Flookerang was subtle, the overlaid shapes denoting (1) rapid forward progress and (2) the sweep of those big fins rearward.  As a conceptual link it was one of the more successful of its kind but, unfortunately, the species it referenced soon went extinct.  Chrysler in 1957 had announced the look in banner headlines reading “Suddenly, it’s 1960” and, in a period when the “futuristic” was everywhere in films, newspapers and fiction, the cars did seem to offer a glimpse of a bright, shiny new world.  The problem was however that once on the path of excess there is nowhere to go but “more excessive” and that’s what happened; by the time it really was “1960”, the moment had passed and the fins soon would be pruned, Exner fired (actually relegated to a face-saving consultancy) with the Flookerang in 1961 (mostly) abandoned, replaced by the mysterious Fratzog.

Flookercharger.

Chrysler’s use of the Flookerang was inconsistent, both in variations in shape and placement on vehicles, on some models appearing one season, vanishing the next, only to re-appear for an encore, perhaps explaining why it never really became culturally embedded as a symbol, its relatively short life contributing also.  It must though have appealed to at least one custom-builder who blended the tail-fins of a 1960 Plymouth Fury with a 1966 Dodge Charger, the Flookerangs left in place despite the tendency of those crafting such things to remove “extraneous detailing”.  The styling of the 1966-1967 Chargers was received with restrained enthusiasm (although, once a small spoiler had been added to the trunk (boot) lid to tame the “lift” encountered at high speed, the fastback lines proved aerodynamically efficient on the NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) ovals) but few would have suggested grafting on a 1960 Fury’s fins would have improved the aesthetics.  That was however done by one visionary soul who didn’t stop at what clearly was thought a callipygous optimization, a 1967 interior used with the dashboard modified to house a remarkable 19 gauges, the four electroluminescent pods on the driver’s side matched by a symmetrical quartet to the right.  The engine was a 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8 that may have been original although it included a Sonoramic cross ram induction system (most photogenic but never offered by the factory with the 440); the transmission a TorqueFlite 727 Automatic.  Given the configuration, adding five hood scoops seemed appropriate and the steering wheel boss retained its original Fratzog.  Unfortunately, the unique machine was damaged in a garage fire (one unkind comment on a Mopar site suggesting it may have attracted “the wrath of God”) and its fate is unknown.

Fratzog (pronounced frat-zog)

A corporate logo since 1961 used from time to time by Chrysler Corporation (and of late revived by Stellantis, the multi-national automotive manufacturing concern into which Fiat-Chrysler was in 2021 absorbed).

1960: According to industry legend, a wholly meaningless word made up on the spur of the moment by the shape’s designer.  If the designer (whose name remains unknown) had some inspiration for their choice, it seems never to have been documented but frequently it’s been assumed the construct was frat(ernity)+ zog.  Fraternity was from the Middle English fraternite, from the Old French fraternité, from the Latin frāternitās, ultimately from frāter (brother).  Although almost certainly unrelated to Fratzog, in the Albanian language, zog translates literally as “bird” (zogu (“the bird”, using the definite article)).  The Zogolli family’s (the construct being the root Zog + the Ottoman-Turkish patronymic suffix –oglu (son of)) most famous member was Zog I (Ahmed Muhtar Bey Zogolli; 1895–1961); King of Albania 1928–1939) and in 1922 (after the Ottoman Empire was dissolved), he Albanized and shortened his surname to Zogu, six year later clipping the final “-u” and adopting the mononym King Zog as his royal title.  Fratzog also predates by some 16 years the acronym ZOG (used also as Zog) (Zionist Occupation Government, Zionist Occupational Government, or Zionist-Occupied Government), a term (dating from 1976) for the US government used by certain antisemitic conspiracy theorists claiming Jews secretly control the US government (a recurrent theme in Nazi propaganda under the Third Reich (1933-1945) extended also to the UK government).  JOG (Jewish Occupational Government) has also been used but, historically, SOG was preferred it was thought to distinguish “Jewish subversive conduct” from “being Jewish” although that subtlety escaped most.  Fratzog is a noun; the noun plural is Fratzogs.

1966 Dodge Charger.  In case people didn't “get the message”, Dodge added a fratzog to the hubcaps (top left), gas cap (top left) and grill (centre) while a Flookerang appeared on the C-Pillar (bottom left) with a pentastar behind the front wheel-arch (bottom right).

Using standard etymological deconstruction, a surface analysis of Flookerang reveals the portmanteau construction but all that’s known of the origin of Fratzog is the logo emerged in mid 1960 from Chrysler’s Highland Park styling studio, then under the direction of Elwood Engel (1917–1986; Chief Designer, Chrysler Corporation 1961-1973).  Whether it was the work of an individual or something of a team effort is unclear but, given the simplicity of the task, that it came from the hand of a single designer is quite plausible.  While never named, some sources have referred to the designer as “he” so it’s reasonable to assume it was a man (throughout Detroit the styling studios then an almost exclusively male domain although women had for decades being involved in color choices and interior detailing) but no documentary evidence has ever been sighted.  The meaning of Fratzog has long been a mystery with the industry legend being it was “made up on the spot” after someone in the marketing department sent a request asking how they should refer to the thing.  Having the punchy qualities of being short, memorable, phonetic, unique and needing only two syllables, it would have had some appeal to marketing types but whether they ever sent a “follow-up” asking what it meant, isn’t known.

Cornell University's Chi Phi fraternity house, 107 Edgemoor Lane, Ithaca, New York.

Probably it was good they didn’t pursue the matter because the orthodoxy is “Fratzog” has no meaning, speculation focused usually on the “frat” element with the most popular theory being it may be a borrowing of the clipping of “fraternity” (a social organization of male students at a college or university) and familiar in forms such as “frat party” (much associated with drunkenness, frat houses to this day one of the most convenient paths to alcohol for those under 21 (in the US the minimum age at which alcohol may be purchased and consumed)).  Many of the designers at Highland Park would have been “frats” (members of a fraternity and habitués of frat houses) so it’s not impossible “fratzog” may have been slang among certain drunken students although that’s wholly speculative but there is a rich history of such constructs including “frat boy” & “frat rat” (members of a fraternity, the most obnoxious of the breed dubbed “fratholes”), “frat house” (a fraternity's building) and “frat flick” & “frat lit” (movies & books about fraternities or appealing to the frat boy stereotype (“fratire” the ultimate form of the literature, now understood as a stream of “toxic masculinity”)).  As might be predicted given the elements of frat house life (males aged 17-25, ample stocks of alcohol, disposable income and proximity to sorority houses (a source of female students aged 17-25)), behavior can be less than ideal and recent scandals at Cornell University have illustrated aspects of the culture.  Sorority was from the Renaissance Latin sorōritās, from the Classical Latin soror (sister), from the primitive Indo-European swésōr; the word may be compared with the Portuguese sororidade, the Spanish sororidad and the French sororité.

Lindsay Lohan “on theme” in the livery of the Cincinnati Bengals (a football team in the NFL (National Football League) as a member of the AFC (American Football Conference) North division (left) and 1968 Dodge Charger Bengal Edition (right).

The Dodge Charger Bengal Edition was created in 1968 by Cincinnati Dodge dealer to celebrate the formation of an NFL franchise for the city, arranging with Chrysler’s fleet supply staff to have the cars painted in orange and fitted with black vinyl roofs to match the team’s colors.  Amusingly, Chrysler had no such orange in the color charts for its passenger cars but a shade mixed for Michigan Department of Transportation's fleet proved a perfect match.  An order of 50 was required for the specialized run so 50 duly were ordered in a variety of mechanical configurations.  Reflecting Dodge’s usual build practice for 1968 Chargers, Fratzog logos were fitted on the grill and rear panel unless the R/T package also was ordered in which case R/T badges were substituted.  In either case, a Fratzog appeared on the steering wheel boss but mysteriously, some 1968 Charger R/Ts exist with a small Fratzog on the instrument panel while others have a miniature R/T.  “Special editions” like the Bengal Charger often appeared to stimulate sales of slow-selling models but the 1968 Charger was a hit from day one and although the product planners had projected sales that season of around 20,000, they were pleasantly surprised when more than 96,000 left the showroom, a second assembly line quickly added to meet demand.  It was a remarkable increase on its slab-sided predecessor (1966-1967) that in 1967 had struggled to achieve a volume of less than 15,000.

A Fratzog.

King Zog I of Albania died in 1961 but there’s nothing to suggest Fratzog’s second element was inspired by or a tribute to the deposed monarch, by then living in France (the culmination of a peripatetic exile made comfortable by having looted the Albanian treasury of its gold reserves) where he would succumb to cancer, his 65 years a reasonable achievement for someone who reputedly smoked some 200 cigarettes a day (if true, assuming he slept 8 hours a day, that’s a fag about every 5 minutes which does seem a heroic devotion to the art).  It’s intriguing to ponder whether being dubbed a “fratzog” was something good or bad but, whatever might be the history of the name (that might to some sound like something associated with the rituals in a Masonic Temple), the shape is no mystery to mathematicians, the Fratzog based on a Deltoid curve (the roulette created by a point on the circumference of a circle as it rolls without slipping along the inside of a circle with three or one-and-a-half times its radius).  Its year of debut came of course at the at the dawn of the space race but while the shape (three delta-forms arranged in an equilateral triangle) might be thought (at least vaguely) evocative of an aerospace theme, that would not much have encouraged more pessimistic types who saw only a “fractured deltoid”.  So, no translation, acronym or verified linguistic origin exists but despite that it certainly caught on, first appearing on the 1962 Dodge Polara 500 and Custom 880, before being applied to various Dodge and other Chrysler models until 1976 and in some places lingering until 1981 when, at the instigation of the new CEO, Lee Iacocca (1924–2019), the pentastar logo was standardized corporation-wide.

Fratzog on 1972 Australian Chrysler Valiant Charger E55 SE 340; not only the Americans had long model names.

Nor is it known if the Fratzog’s “triangular” theme was an allusion to the company’s original logo.  The Dodge brothers' (Horace (1868–1920) and John (1864–1920) engineering business had begun production of passenger cars just before World War I (1914-1918) and their first emblem had been a dual interlocking triangle that resembled a stylized Star of David.  The family was not Jewish and it’s believed the logo used representations of the Greek letter delta (in upper case use a triangle shape) meant to represent the two brothers who had always been close (John dying of pneumonia during the 1918-1921 influenza pandemic and Horace expiring the same year from cirrhosis of the liver).  Other logos would appear after Chrysler purchased Dodge in 1928 (following an abortive earlier attempt) but none were even vaguely Fratzogish so history is not much help in tracing the origin; the industry legend of a designer just “liking the shape” may really be true.  It did though have a longer and more diverse career than the Flookerang, serving variously as body badges & grill emblems and appearing also on gas (petrol) caps & horn buttons.  Despite the proliferation, the Fratzog never became thematic in print advertising the way the Flookerang had been used in the 1950s.  So that's it, both words (one a conventional portmanteau, the other possibly one but genuinely mysterious) emerging from a Detroit styling studio although, had anyone concluded Flookerang & Fratzog was likely a firm of Jewish accountants, that would have been understandable. 

Except among collectors or students of such things, by 2024, neither logo probably much registered in the public consciousness in the way of Chevrolet’s bow-tie or Ford’s “Blue Oval” (that font a hand-drawn rendition based on Henry Ford’s (1863-1947) signature although Truetype emulations are now available (FordScript the closest, Fabiola Script & Neville Regular similar)) but despite the collective memory having faded, in 2024 Dodge announced the Fratzog would be revived as symbol of its new range of electric power-trains, assuring the world the constant advances in battery chemistry meant the days of thousand HP (horsepower) EVs with AWD (all-wheel-drive) and a 500 mile (800 km) range were nigh; burning rubber wasn’t going away, it’d just no longer require gas.  To make the historic link, there was CGI (computer generated graphics, generative AI (artificial intelligence) at that point not sufficiently refined) footage with Fratzogs, a rationale and lots of tyre smoke.  As things turned out, batteries continued to improved but Dodge’s announcement 2023 would be the end of the line for their gas-powered V8 muscle cars turned out to be premature though genuinely that was the intent, keen-eyed observers of promotional material for the 2024 (EV) Charger Daytona noting Fratzog logos on the wheel hubs with the one in the centre of the grill being illuminated.

EV: The future of Fratzog.  Dodge's EV shtick is that “people buy performance, not a mechanical specification”, a variant of the hardware store's “people don't want 20 mm drill bits, they want 20 mm holes); it'll be interesting to see if the “US muscle car model” (front-mounted V8, RWD (rear-wheel-drive)) can be re-defined to “performance breakdown”.  The market will decide.

There was also a neologism, “Frazonic” emblazoned on the rear valance; it turned out that adjective referred to the “Fratzonic Chambered Exhaust” (piped “engine noise”, replicating in tone and dB (decibels) the song of a Hellcat V-8; the adverb presumably “Fratzonically”).  Just as government regulations had by the early 1970s contributed to the demise of the first muscle car era (although the insurance companies did their bit), so it seemed clear that five decades on, government edicts might also drive extinct at least the V8-powered monsters of the new generation, production of such things no longer viable given the new fleet fuel efficiency mandate.  However, as things turned out, there may be a stay of execution, internal documents “obtained” by various sites appearing to confirm Dodge’s EV ranges may in 2028 be augmented by a Charger running the supercharged 6.2-liter (376 cubic inch) Hemi Hellcat V8 in a RWD (rear-wheel-drive) configuration.  The internal designation appeared as “HEV” though that stood for not the by now common “Hybrid EV” but the wholly more subversive “Hellcat Equipped Vehicle”; that repurposing may not have been mischievous but someone at Dodge may have been trying to annoy Greta Thunberg (b 2003).  So Dodge is gearing up for what may be one last hard ride for those who can remember the way things used to be done (when noise was organic and not Fratsonic) but within the Stellantis product planning department, the only poem much read is likely to be To a mouse (1785) by Robert "Rabbie" Burns (1759–1796) with focus on the two famous lines: “The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men / Gang aft agley” (ie however well-planned, things can go awry).  Corporate America has found Donald Trump’s (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) second administration more accommodating than its immediate predecessor but, like many, keenly they’ll be watching the returns from the 2026 mid-term elections.

Closet

Closet (pronounced kloz-it)

(1) A small room, enclosed recess, cupboard or cabinet for storing clothing, food, utensils etc.

(2) A small private room, especially one used for prayer, meditation etc.

(3) A state or condition of secrecy or carefully guarded privacy.

(4) A clipping of “closet of ease” or “closet of decency” and later “water closet” (WC), early names for the flushing loo (toilet; lavatory; privy with a waste-pipe and means to carry off the discharge by a flush of water).

(5) Of or pertaining to that which is private; secluded or concealed; undertaken unobserved and in isolation.

(6) To shut up in a private room for some purpose.

(7) A private room used by women to groom and dress themselves (obsolete).

(8) A private room used for prayer or other devotions (archaic).

(9) A place of (usually either fanciful or figurative in that typically it referred to the state of thought rather than where it took place) contemplation and theorizing (archaic).

(10) The private residence or private council chamber of a monarch accompanied by a staff establishment (page of the chamber; clerk of the closet etc) and related to the bedchamber (archaic).

(11) In a church, a pew or side-chapel reserved for a monarch or feudal lord (regarded as obsolete but the concept endures in that the order of precedence is often used when seating is allocated for ceremonial events conducted in churches).

(12) In heraldry, an ordinary similar to a bar but half the width.

(13) A sewer (Scots dialectical, now obsolete).

(14) The state of maintaining one's sexual orientation as a secret (“closeted” “in the closet”, “closet case” etc).

1300-1350: From the Middle English closet (a small private room for study or prayer), from the Old French closet (small enclosure, private room), the construct being clos (private space; enclosure) +‎ -et (the suffix used to form diminutives), from the Latin clausum (closed space, enclosure, confinement), the neuter past participle of claudere (to shut).  In French, it tended to be applied to small, open-air enclosures.  The suffix –et was from the Middle English -et, from the Old French –et & its feminine variant -ette, from the Late Latin -ittus (and the other gender forms -itta & -ittum).  It was used to form diminutives, loosely construed.  Some European languages picked up the Old French spelling while others used variations including Czech (klozet) & Spanish (clóset).  Closets can be tiny or fair-sized rooms so the appropriate synonym depends on context and architecture and might include: cabinet, container, locker, room, vault, wardrobe, bin, buffet, depository, receptacle, recess, repository, safe, sideboard, walk-in, ambry, chest of drawers & cold storage.  Closet is a noun, verb & adjective, closeting, closetful & closetry are nouns & verbs, closetlike & closety are adjectives, closeted is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is closets.

The adjective dates from the 1680s in the sense of “private, done in seclusion”, extended by 1782 as "fitted only for scholarly seclusion, not adapted to the conditions of practical life" (ie in the sense of the “ivory tower”).  The meaning "secret, not public, unknown" was first applied to alcoholism in the early 1950s but by the 1970s had come to be used principally (probably exclusively) of homosexuality.  This, and the earlier forms (closet anarchist, closet alcoholic, closet Freemason, closet smoker etc) were all based on the idiomatic “skeleton in the closet” (which existed also as “skeleton in the cupboard”), describing some undisclosed fact which, if revealed would cause reputational damage (or worse) to a person.  Literally, the imagery summoned was of someone with a human corpse secreted in a closet in their house, one which had sat there so long the flesh had decomposed to the bone.  The earliest known appearance in print was in 1816 but it’s not known how long it’d been in oral use and it usually implied culpability for some serious offence though not necessarily anything involving a corpse.

A walk-in closet.  To optimize space utilization, the hangers are very thin and covered with black velvet to ensure no fabrics are marked.  In a well-organized closet, items can be arranged in a number of ways such as color, season or type and some do it by manufacturer, the name of the label printed on rail-tags.

The phrase “come out of the closet” (admit something openly) was first recorded 1963 and the use rapidly became exclusive to homosexuals, lending a new sense to the word “out”.  This meaning itself became nuanced: “To come out” (openly avowing one's homosexuality) emerged as a phrase in the 1960s and was an overtly political statement (obviously different from the earlier “a confessed homosexual”) whereas “outing” and “outed” came to be used in the 1970s to refer to people making the homosexuality of others public knowledge.  Outing became controversial because of the argument (made sometimes by those within the gay community) that it was justified if exposing hypocrisy (usually a conservative politician who publicly condemned homosexuality while in private indulging in the practice).  In Spanish use (most notably in Latin America) the noun clóset is used to refer to the state of being secretly gay (from salir del clóset), the plural being clósets.

Lindsay Lohan in part of her walk-in closet, here choosing what to pack for an appearance at the Cannes Film Festival, May 2014.

The verb closet (shut up as in a closet) was originally usually for purposes of concealment or private consultation and dates from the 1680s.  The water closet (WC and described also in the helpfully descriptive terms “closet of ease” or “closet of decency”) was the ancestor of the familiar modern loo (toilet; lavatory; privy with a waste-pipe and means to carry off the discharge by a flush of water), the term first used in 1755 and later perfected by the famous plumber, Mr Thomas Crapper.  The phrase “walk-in” was used first in the 1890s as a slang term by hotel check-in clerks to refer to those arriving without a reservation (it’s now a standard statistical category in hotels) and by 1928 was used in many forms of commerce to mean “customer who arrived without an appointment”.  The “walk-in closet” was first advertised in the US in 1946 where it described a built-in wardrobe large enough to walk into, (some equipped with mirrors, tables, chairs etc) although, among the rich, such structures had for centuries been in use.

The Gay Bob Doll

Gay Bob; note the man-bag.

There’s evidence that for much of human existence, homosexuality has been at least widely tolerated and often accepted but in the West, under the influence of the Christian churches, it came to attract much disapprobation though even in the nineteenth century there were those who (without much success) campaigned for legislative and social change, the odd self-declared homosexual sometimes urging others to out themselves.  However, it wasn’t until the 1960s that the still embryonic “gay liberation” movement understood that “coming out en masse” was of importance because with critical mass came political influence.  Social attitudes did change and it was perhaps an indication of acceptance that in 2005 the cartoon show South Park could run an episode called Trapped in the Closet in which the Scientologist film star Tom Cruise (b 1962) refuses to come out of a closet (the episode entered industry jargon as “closetgate”).  Not discouraged by the threat of writs, South Park later featured an episode in which the actor worked in a confectionery factory packing fudge and was labelled a “fudge packer”.  Attitudes and legislative changes didn't always move in unison and things unfolded gradually but that process was still incomplete when, in 1977, the Gay Bob doll was released.  There is probably no phrase that better encapsulates gender-role stereotyping than “girls play with dolls and boys play with trucks” though, in the narrow technical sense, boys have long “sort of” had their own dolls because toy soldiers are (in a sense) a “doll” but everybody understands the difference and nobody confuses the two.

Gay Bob in his closet (with accessories and instructions).

That was what made the Gay Bob doll so subversive: it used a form structurally similar to the dolls parents had for generations bought for their daughters but was obviously something different and vested with a political message.  Even today, such a doll might be controversial (certainly in some countries or US states) but in 1977 when Gay Bob was released, the world was a different place.  Interestingly, some critics now argue that while in the West the legislative environment has become more liberal (same-sex marriage now lawful in many jurisdictions) the liberalization in social attitudes achieved in the decades since the mid-1970s have in some regions or sectors of the population reverted.

Clothes and accessories were available, including those for dressing the “gay farmer”.

By 1977, the winds of change clearly were blowing because in that year Harvey Milk (1930–1978; member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors, 1978) became the first openly gay man elected to public office in California (it’ll never be known how many of his predecessors were closeted).  However, if Milk was out of the closet, Gay Bob was delivered neatly packaged in his own (cardboard) closet, buyers able to “out him” or put him back as circumstances dictated.  Designed as something of a caricature of popular film & television stars of the era, Gay Bob’s creator described the doll as perfect for “…an executive’s desk, dash board ornament, the attaché case, the bathtub rim or a health club gym bag”.  Of course, among the homophobic, Gay Bob could always be repurposed as a voodoo doll upon which unspeakable acts of violence could be visited so that was another niche market.  A notable feature was the doll’s “anatomical correctness”, presumably a sales feature but one that necessitated production being out-sourced to Hong-Kong because US manufacturers declined the contract. 

Gay Bob stepping out of the closet.

Just so there were no misunderstandings, Gay Bob was supplied with a fashion catalogue including an explanation:  Hi boys, girls and grownups, I’m Gay Bob, the world’s first gay doll.  I bet you are wondering why I come packed in a closet. “Coming out of the closet” is an expression which means that you admit the truth about yourself and are no longer ashamed of what you are.  Gay people are no different than straight people.  If everyone came out of their closets, there wouldn’t be so many angry, frustrated, frightened people.  It’s not easy to be honest about what you are, in fact it takes a great deal of courage.  But remember, if Gay Bob has the courage to come out of his closet, so can you! With an attitude like that, one can see why Gay Bob was such a threat. 

Popular since the nineteenth century, mail-order was the on-line shopping of the analogue era.  Lee Harvey Oswald (1939–1963) purchased the rifle (a military surplus 6.5 mm Carcano) he used to assassinate John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; POTUS 1961-1963) via mail-order for US$19.95 plus US$1.50 P&H.

Conservative activists were of course appalled by Gay Bob, his anatomical correctness and threateningly optimistic message, describing it all as “a threat to family values” and more “…evidence of the desperation the homosexual campaign has reached in its effort to put homosexual lifestyle, which is a death style, across to the American people”.  The forces of capitalism either agreed or were unwilling to risk a backlash because attempts have the big department stores stock Gay Bob on their shelves were unsuccessful so the doll was sold via mail order, advertisements placed in gay magazines.  One doll cost US$19.50 (including P&H within the US) while a pair could be purchased at a discounted US$35.00 (and to take advantage of the anatomical correctness, buying a brace would presumably have been in vogue.)  Over 2,000 were sold within months and in liberal cities like New York and San Francisco and while some boutiques would later carry the product, it's unlikely any were seen on shelves south of the Mason-Dixon Line.  Something of a footnote to the LGBTQQIAAOP timeline, Gay Bob is a now a collector’s item, examples in good condition realizing over US$200 at on-line auction sites and those with a pristine, un-violated closet will command a premium.  That's the charming paradox: While Gay Bob existed as part of a movement to make easier “coming out of the closet”, among collectors, the doll is now most valued if Gay Bob remains sealed in.

The other Romish way

In the Closet of the Vatican by Frédéric Martel (b 1967).

The author of In the Closet of the Vatican was what used to be called “a confessed homosexual” and the book was a study of what the publisher described as “an account of corruption and hypocrisy at the heart of the Vatican”.  Blurbs of course rely on punchy phrases but it might have been better to suggest “some of corruption and hypocrisy” because the focus very much was on the matter of the “substantially gay priesthood” within the upper reaches of the Roman Catholic Church and some of the implications of that state, a central thesis being “the greater a prelate’s homophobia, the more likely it is he is gay”  “Behind rigidity there is always something hidden, in many cases a double life” was how Francis (1936-2025; pope 2013-2025) put it.  Remarkably, a large number of priests, bishops and cardinals agreed to be interviewed and while they did discuss topics such as the condemnation of the use of contraceptives, cases of sexual abuse by clergy and the collective misogyny of the priesthood, what emerged also was an amusing picture of an institution beset by internecine squabbles, careerism and Masonic-like plotting and scheming; in other words, within the Vatican’s corridors, things are pretty much the same as institutions everywhere.  It’s an entertaining read and one who emerges as a sympathetic figure is Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022), a theologian of pure thought overwhelmed by what he came to realize what his pontificate was confronting; he resigned because he realized not only could he not do what needed to be done but probably it couldn’t be done by anyone and, at least debatably, his successors have “solved” the problem by “doing other things”, taking the view it’s better to achieve small successes somewhere.

Titus Oates in the pillory as a punishment for perjury (1685), engraving by unknown artist.

The notion of the Vatican as “the world’s biggest closet” is of course amusing but the matter of a “network of gay clergy” probably has existed for a thousand years or more although in recent decades it has become better documented and, well before the scale of clerical sex abuse of minors became public knowledge, diaries and memoirs often contained sometimes oblique references to the phenomenon, even Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) (an unlikely lay-theologian) remarking to one of the prison psychologists at the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946) of his impressions of young men and their mentors he’d observed during a visit to a seminary.  Centuries before, Titus Oates (1649-1705), at various times an Anglican and Roman Catholic priest (both offices held through some form of fraud, his life summed up by one historian as: “By birth an Anabaptist, by prudence a clergyman, by profession a perjurer”) had crafted a career as “a part-time religious conspirator and full-time homosexual” that saw him in 1685 sentenced to life imprisonment, the highlight of which was to be “…whipped through the streets of London five days a year for the remainder of his life”.  At least one public whipping was carried out, a diarist noting of one account: “I heard him say that he saw Oates, that discovered the Popish Plot, whipped according to his condemnation most miserably; and as he was hauled up the streets the multitude would much pity him, and would cry to the hangman or he whose office was to whip him, ‘Enough! Strike easy!’  To whom Mr Oates replied, turning his head cheerfully behind him, ‘Not enough! good people, for truth, not enough.’  That showed a certain commitment to the cause but it was the historian John Philipps “J.P.” Kenyon (1927–1996) in The Popish Plot (1973) who had an interesting slant of what was even then clearly the Catholic Church’s “structural closetism”: “The fact that Oates was an active and practising homosexual has always been known, but historians have evaded one obvious conclusion; that this explains the astonishing ease with which he was admitted to certain Catholic circles which one would have supposed barred a disreputable Anglican clergyman with heterodox leanings.”

The Church has a well-know position (some prefer “fudge”) on the subject, the official teaching being an inclination for same-sex attraction is “an objective moral disorder” yet it remains “not a sin to be gay” but it is sinful “if one succumbs and acts on the inclination” (ie you can have your cake but not eat it).  Neatly that encapsulates the advice a potential sinner’s confessor would be compelled to provide: “Stay in the closet my son”.  While not a book of verifiable statistics, Martel does quote the estimate of the pope’s former chief Latinist that “up to 80% of the Vatican staff could be gay” and while (one hopes) that’s impressionistic, such an official might be thought a NRS (normally reliable source) and while “80%” must be treated as “rubbery”, it does hint the real number would be “big”.  Martel’s point of course was the number was significant only in the content of the consequences and hypocrisy inherent in such a cabal administering a church with rigid doctrinal positions on just about anything to do with sex and gender and one gay priest did provide nuance to the “Vatican as a closet” model by suggesting it was more the place being “a honeycomb of closets” in which dozens of groups, factions and alliances all operated with their own secrets and while “everybody knew they had secrets”, they were known only to a few.  Counterintuitively, reaction to the book by the church establishment was one almost of relief because, while the interviews reputedly were extensive, what was published usually stopped short of “naming names” or detailing times and places unless such details were already in the public domain: there were no appendices of incriminating documents or other “smoking guns”.  So, from the Holy See came an almost dismissive “nothing to see here” which probably can be deconstructed as “our lawyers found nothing actionable” but reviewers generally were positive and, while acknowledging the limitations, did commend the word for its breadth of approach and sheer entertainment value although several did grumble about the lack of an index; the most diligent readers will seek the digital version. 

Tit

Tit (pronounced tit)

(1) Any of numerous small active old world songbirds of the family Paridae, especially those of the former genus Parus.

(2) Medieval slang for a girl or young woman thought something of a minx.

(3) A small, worthless or worn-out poor horse; a nag (archaic).

(4) Slang for a despicable or unpleasant person (archaic).

(5) Slang for a teat (used in agricultural and other circles).

(6) As titbit, a small morsel of food (historic English use, tidbit now the mor common form and universal in the US).

(7) One of the many vulgar slang terms for the human female’s breast (mammary gland).

(8) A light blow or hit (sometimes merely gestural or symbolic).  This use as a stand-alone noun has long been obsolete but the sense survives in the phrase "tit for tat").

(9) Lightly to strike; to pat or tap (obsolete). 

(10) To taunt, to reproach, to castigate (obsolete). 

Circa 1600: From the mid sixteenth century Middle English titte, from the pre 1100 Old English titt and cognate with the Middle Low German & Middle Dutch titte, the German as zitze, the Icelandic tittr and the Norwegian titta.  The Scandinavian forms applied to small birds and the Old English titt was a variant of teat.  The modern slang variation, attested from 1928, seems to be a recent reinvention from teat, used apparently without awareness it’s a throwback to the original form although the form is on record from 1746 as an English and Irish diminutive of teat, used in nurseries.  The verb forms (lightly striking; reproaching) are obsolete.  Tit is a noun & verb, titlike is an adjective and titting & titted are verbs; the noun plural is tits.

A pair of small tits and a pair of great tits: Bushtits (Psaltriparus minimus, left) and great tits (Parus major, right), the word order of the latter descriptor distinguishing use from the more common idiomatic form: "a great pair of tits".

Among the smaller tits is the bushtit (Psaltriparus minimus), found in the US Pacific Northwest, the tiny songbird typically 100-110 mm (3.9-4.3 inches) in length and weighing 4–6 grams (0.14–0.21 oz).  The pygmy tit (Psaltria exilis) is smaller and a monotypic now within the genus Psaltria (it was previously placed, along with the rest of its family, with the true tits (Paridae).  The largest of the tits is the widely distributed great tit (Parus major) which measures usually between 135-155 mm (5.3-6.1 inches) in length and weighs 16-21 grams (6-.81 oz).  In ornithology, tits, chickadees, and titmice constitute the Paridae, a large family of small passerine birds found mostly in Africa and the more temperate regions of the Northern Hemisphere and Africa.  Most were formerly classified in the genus Parus; in the English-speaking world the terms chickadee & titmice tend to be used in North America while its elsewhere it's  “tits all the way” (the Americans also resisted  “titbits” and were more reassured by “tidbits”).  The creatures are mainly small, stocky, woodland species with short, stout bills, some with crests and ranging in length between 4-9 inches (100-220 mm); they have a mixed diet including seeds & insects and have adapted well to co-habitation with humans in urban environments.  It seems linguistically pleasing ornithological taxonomy has given English the black-breasted tit (Periparus rufonuchalis), the cinnamon-breasted tit (Melaniparus pallidiventris) and the stripe-breasted tit (Melaniparus fasciiventer).

The origin of familiar use of “tit” as slang for “breast, human female mammary gland” (now also as "tittie" or "titty" although they also enjoyed other meanings) lies in the Old English titt (teat, nipple, breast), used as a variant of teat or from the dialectal and nursery diminutive plural variant “titties”.  Perhaps surprisingly, it appears the modern slang use in this context (predictably, almost always in the plural) is documented only from 1928 (though oral use may have pre-dated this) and the adoption (actually a re-invention) may be unconnected to the original form.  The tradition was however long because in the Middle English the singular was often tete or tate, often used figuratively to mean both “source of (spiritual) nourishment” and by the late fourteenth century, an “object of erotic attraction”.  In modern slang use, it appears the use of “tits” was almost exclusively male until the 1970s when it became of the words “reclaimed” by feminists as a political statement although, as a general principle women seem still to prefer “boobs” while there is among them (usually in a disparaging sense) acceptance of “fake tits” as a critique.

Shima-Enaga in flight (left) and young lady with her pair of Shima-Enaga plushies.

The Shima-Enaga (シマエナガ) is most prolific in the region of Hokkaido, Japan but they inhabit the entire Paleatrictic (a bio-geographic realm of the Earth and the largest of the eight defined; mostly in the Eastern Hemisphere, it extends eastward from Europe, across Asia, north of the foothills of the Himalayas, to the Bering Strait and south to the Mediterranean Basin, North Africa & northern Arabia.  It thus encompasses several bioregions and freshwater eco-regions).  The Shima-Enaga is a sub-species of the long-tailed tit (also as long-tailed bushtit) and is famous for its fluffy appearance and snowman-like features (especially in winter when they puff up their feathers to stay warm), leading it popularly to be known as the “snow fairy”.  Social creatures, they are renowned for their curious and active behaviour; living mostly on arthropods (mostly insects), they also eat a variety of vegetable matter.  The word “cute” could have been invented for the Shima-Enaga and they’re a staple of the vibrant Japanese plushie industry.

By the 1540s “tit” was used for a small or unproductive horse, the sense of something “diminutive” transferring over later centuries to other small creatures, most enduringly in birds such as the titmouse, tom-tit, titlark, titling, tit-babbler etc although not all survived to be added to modern taxonomy such as the late nineteenth century titty-todger (a wren); it seems a shame we no longer have titty-toger in the lexicon.  In the Nordic nations, the Icelandic tittr, the Norwegian tita and the Old Norse titling were all used of small birds but etymologists are uncertain about the connection, the OED (Oxford English Dictionary) suggesting the link was of either something small (not of necessity specific to birds) or even onomatopoeic, drawn from the “chip-chipping” sound of small songbirds.  At least by 1706 it was common slang for “titmouse” and by 1734 was used figuratively of persons but between the sixteenth & eighteenth centuries a “tit” could be a “girl or young woman” and while that could be merely descriptive, it was applied often in the deprecatory sense of “a hussy or minx” (though apparently not actually a prostitute).

Big tits are not always what they seem.

Some years ago, an image circulated on internet's “usual suspect” sites; it purported to show a wax-paper bag from the 1930s, used originally as packaging for “Big Tits Potato Chips” manufactured by the Tart-Chestnut Company of Dunn, North Carolina.  The back-story was the name came from “Big Tits” being the nickname of the rather corpulent Mr Titus Tart, one of the operation's co-owners (the implication presumably he was over-fond of his factory's products).  As might be suggested by a product called “Big Tits” coming from a the “Tart-Chestnut” concern, it was fake news although that didn't stop debates about whether the use of “tit” in its modern sense was part of US vernacular in the Carolinas by the 1930s, some even suggesting the linguistic innovation may not have penetrated south of the Mason-Dixon line because there, dictionaries of slang may have been banned from public libraries on grounds of obscenity.  Plausibility might have been enhanced had the image been rendered with a little patina although as an emulation of 1930s packaging it did seem a creditable job, the art deco typeface a nice period touch and even the colors recalled the inter-war years (1919-1939).

Lindsay Lohan with a table of titbits: Ruffled top by Christian Siriano (b 1985), necklace by Swarovski, photo-shoot for Who What Wear UK, November 2022.

The form “titbit” (small, delicate snack of food; a sweet morsel) was in use by the 1630s and was synonymous with “tidbit” which was in concurrent use, the coining of that thought to be the dialectal tid (fond, solicitous, tender (itself perhaps influenced by the relevant sense of “tit”)) + bit (in the sense of “a morsel”).  Tidbit was once the common use in the UK & other parts of the old British Empire but in US English was vanishingly rare, tidbit long preferred.  Also surviving into modern use is “tit for tat”, (an expression indicating “a retaliatory return”), first documented in the 1550s and from this ultimately came “titfer” which appeared in UK dictionaries of rhyming slang as a substitute for “hat” (in from the “that” element in “this for that”).  “Tit for tat” may have been a variant of the earlier “tip for tap” (blow for blow), carrying the same meaning.  The game tick-tack-toe (noughts & crosses) was so named at least by 1892 but, according to oral historians, decades before it had been known as tit-tat-toe (by 1852, in reminiscences of earlier years), the name thought derived from the sound made by the pencil on the slate with which it originally was played by schoolboys.  The modern slang “taking the bull by the tits” is an absurdist variant of “taking the bull by the horns” (confronting a problem and dealing with it in a manner prompt, resolute & effective”); it suggests someone is doing something wrong or has misunderstood (ie they have NFI).

Hung out to dry.

Titlings being prepared on the shores of a Norwegian fiord.  First crossing the seas with the Vikings (the food was ideal for long voyages) in the 800s, stockfish is still an industry in Norway and is reputedly the world’s oldest, continuously practiced export trade. That's disputed by some in the Middle & Far East who cite products such as silk, honey, figs, dates and such and it all seems to hinge on hoe one defines “continuously”.

The noun titling (plural titlings) can be unrelated to avian and other uses of “tit” and its derived forms.  At law, a titling was a legal right to property (ie holding a valid title defensible against other claims).  The word was used also in publishing (deciding on a title) and by printers (impressing the title on the back of a book); as a verb, titling was thus the present participle and gerund of title.  The noun use does however extend to birds and even the fish trade.  A titling could be either a hedge sparrow (dunnock, titlene, Prunella modularis) or the meadow pipit (Anthus pratensis) while among fishmongers, it referred to the stockfish (cod (or similar species) having been cut open and cured in the open air without salt (the terms for the “dried & salted catch” included klipfish and salt cod).  Stockfish was from Middle English stokfissh & stokfysch, from the Middle Dutch stocvisch and/or the Middle Low German stokvisch (stick fish), that from the fish being dried in the open air on sticks or poles.

In the pre-refrigeration age, dried fish was a staple of the industry although, as an open-air process, it was climate-dependent but, being a long-lasting product (safely, it could be stored for years), exports in bulk were common, the business in the British Isles common enough for some traders to be styled “stockfishmongers” and, in early medieval London, the area around Thames Street (near St Magnus the Martyr church) was known as Stockfishmonger Row because it was here the trade was concentrated; the product was an important, year-round source of low-cost nutrition.  Until 1512, the stockfishmongers of London (then, like many professions, family concerns handed from father-to-son) operated as a distinct trade association at which point they merged with the other (fresh) fishmongers to form the Worshipful Company of Fishmongers, one of the Great Twelve Livery Companies of the City of London (unlike the Freemasons, there’s nothing to suggest the fishmongers were notorious plotters & schemers) and it was a respectable business, one fourteenth century stockfishmonger serving three terms as Lord Mayor of London.  That was an office of some note, known in the thirteenth century Latin as Dominus (lord or master) before by the early 1400s being styled “Lord Mair”.  Mair was from the Middle English maire, from the Old French maire (head of a city or town government), a substantivation of the Old French maire (greater), from the Latin maior (bigger, greater, superior (a comparative of magnus (big, great) and doublet of major)).  It was cognate with the Old High German meior (estate manager, steward, bailiff (enduring in modern German in the surnames Meyer & Meier)) and the Middle Dutch meier (administrator, steward, bailiff).  It displaced the Old English burgealdor (a ruler of a city, mayor, citizen), burhġerēfa (boroughreeve) (headman of a borough or district) & portġerēfa (portreeve) (headman of a port).  In the 1500s, Lord Mayors became the first officials to be styled “Right Honourable” (now most associated with privy counsellors although certain members of the peerage also enjoy a right to the title).

Meier & Meyer are in Germany common surnames (something like “Smith” or “Jones” in English), sometimes used in idiomatic expressions.  Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) came to regret his use, telling the nation on the outbreak of World War II (1939-1945): “No enemy bomber can reach the Ruhr. If one reaches the Ruhr, my name is not Göring.  You can call me Meyer.”  Göring well knew the expression of the era: “The bomber will always get through” but had come to believe his own publicity about the invincibility of the Luftwaffe (the German air force), confident it was only his bombers that would get through.  Unfortunately for him, the RAF (Royal Air Force) didn’t believe the publicity (propaganda) and staged their first small-scale air-raids on Berlin in 1940, doing little damage but denting Göring’s prestige.  Cynical Berliners were noted for their sardonic humor and quickly dubbed the air-raid warning sirens “Meyer’s trumpets”, re-naming the Reichsmarschall: “Herr Meyer”.  However, unlike many politicians (then and now), Göring took the view people telling jokes about him meant he was popular and these his staff collected, pasting them (along with cartoons & caricatures) into a scrapbook that gleefully he would read; there’s no record of him seeking retribution on the authors.  Indeed, late in the war, caught in the open during an air raid, as hastily as was possible for someone of his bulk, he made his way into the closest underground shelter and joined the crowd, announcing cheerfully: “Herr Meyer is here.”  He was well-received.