Fantastic

Fantastic (pronounced fan-tas-tik)

(1) Conceived or appearing as if conceived by an unrestrained imagination; odd and remarkable; bizarre; grotesque; strange, weird or fanciful in conception or appearance (reflecting the original idea of fantasy +‎ -tic (the adjectival suffix)).

(2) A person who dresses or behaves eccentrically (obsolete, but still used in the sense “a fanciful or whimsical person” as a literary or poetic device on the model of “an exquisite”).

(3) Extraordinarily good; excellent.

(4) Something extreme or acute (now rare).

(5) Fanciful, whimsical or capricious (of people, ideas or concepts).

(6) Imaginary or groundless in not being based on reality; foolish or irrational.

(7) Extravagantly fanciful; marvelous.

(8) Great to an incredible extent; extreme; exorbitant.

(9) In architecture and design, extravagantly decorated or detailed; excessive ornamentation.

(10) Highly unrealistic or impractical; probably impossible; preposterous; absurd.

(11) Created in the mind; illusory; a flight of fancy.

1350–1400: From the Middle English fantastik (pertaining to the imaginative faculty), from the Middle French fantastique, from the Medieval Latin fantasticus, a variant of the Late Latin phantasticus, from the Ancient Greek φᾰντᾰστῐκός (phăntăstĭkós) (imaginary, fantastic; fictional; able to present the appearance (of something)), a derivative of phantázein (to make present to the eye or mind), the construct on the conceptual model of phānós (light, bright) or phaínein (to bring to light, cause to appear) + -tikos .  The –tikos suffix was commonly used to form adjectives.  The Greek τικός (-tikos) was derived from the noun τι (-tis) (“one who does” or “related to”).  Typically, when –tikos was appended to a word, it conveyed the sense of “being related to, characterized by, or pertaining to the base word”.  It was used also (n various contexts) to create adjectives that describe qualities or characteristics associated with the base word.  The ultimate source was the primitive Indo-European beh- (to shine).  The alternative forms fantastick, phantastic, phantastick & phantastique are all obsolete.  Fantastic & fantastical are nouns & adjectives, fantastication, fantasticness, fantasticity, fantasticalness & fantasticism are nouns, fantasticate & fantasticize are verbs, fantastically, fantasticly & fantastically are adverbs; the noun plural is fantastics.

Google Ngram: Fantasticly.

Google Ngram (a quantitative and not qualitative measure): Because of the way Google harvests data for their Ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, Ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts (typically a scanner might misread an “f” for a long “s” or a “u” for an “n”) of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI (artificial intelligence) should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

Olivia Hussey (1951–2024) as Juliet in Romeo and Juliet (1968).

Most dictionaries seem now to list the once fashionable adverb fantasticly as “archaic” although none seem yet to have declared it extinct.  The statistics indicating a late twentieth century revival of use are a product of the proliferation of internet sites dealing with such words (dictionaries, thesauruses, style guides, lists of the rare or unusual etc).  Still, it’s there to be used and would add distinctiveness to a text but authors should be cautioned those having an AI (artificial intelligence) agent do the “proof reading” might find it flagged and it may not impress many flesh & blood editors there to render drafts “accessible”.  In the Old French there was the different adjectival form fantasieus meaning “weird; insane; make-believe” while in Medieval Latin fantasticus was used as a noun meaning “a lunatic; a madman”, adopted by William Shakespeare (1564–1616) in the Italian form fantastico (one who acts ridiculously).  That had an interesting history, the plural form (fantasticoes) appearing in Act 2, Scene 4 of Romeo and Juliet (1597), spoken by Mercutio: “The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting fantasticoes, these new tuners of accents!”.  That definitely was the noun being used in the sense of “a person full of wild, extravagant fancies or absurd ideas”, rather than as the modern adjective meaning “wonderful”.  What Shakespeare had Mercutio do was mock Tybalt and young, fashionable men who adopt affected Italian manners, fencing styles, and pretentious speech.  It was printed as “fantasticoes” in the early (1597) first Quarto printing of the play while editors of some later editions (including the widely-distributed 1623 First Folio) used the spelling phantacies (fantasies), though most versions have restored fantasticoes, not merely as a respect for the original but because the form better fits Mercutio's insult.    The “trivial” sense of “wonderful, marvellous” was in use by at least 1938.

In the creation of slang forms, elements of fantastic have contributed to portmanteau words including “fabtastic”, the construct a blend of fab(ulous) + (fan)tastic, “fantabulous”, the construct a blend of fanta(stic) + (fa)bulous, “fantasterrific”, the construct a blend of fantast(ic) + (t)errific, “funtastic”, the construct a blend of fun + (fan)tastic and “fantascience” (a now rare genre of fiction combining orthodox or speculative science with fantastical elements), the construct a blend of fanta(stic) + science.  Fabtastsic, fantabulous, fantasterrific and funtastic (there are others, some quite specific to circumstances) all are used in the sense of “wonderful, marvelous, outstanding (ie simultaneously both fantastic and fabulous) and often as a superlative (eg “a most fantabulous event”).  These coinings appear mostly a post-war phenomenon.

Fantastic magazine covers. Top row: January-February 1953, March 1953, August 1954; Middle row: August 1956, October 1956; November 1959; Bottom row: February 1960, May 1961, November 1963.

Fantastic was a US SF (Science Fiction) and fantasy magazine published between 1952 and 1980.  Founded as a fantasy companion to Amazing Stories (launched in 1926), so successful was Fantastic that the publisher soon closed their other titles serving the genre, merging all content.  Thematically, Fantastic tended to respond to the construct of the scientific zeitgeist in the popular imagination (ie what was appearing in film and on television) so subjects at times embraced included space travel, global thermo-nuclear war, visiting flying saucers and pandemics from other planets although, despite the range, there seemed often a justification for the covers to feature at least one scantily-clad young woman.  Fantastic published work by writers who would become well-known in the SF community but, rather improbably, pieces by Truman Capote (1924–1984) and Evelyn Waugh (1903-1966) also appeared.

A cleverly composed photograph by AP (Associated Press) photojournalist Tom Brenner (b 1994) with Donald Trump reflected in the lens of Susie Wiles' sunglasses, South Lawn of the White House, Washington DC, October 2026.

In the aftermath of the 2026 US congressional elections at which (for the Republican Party), things went either “as badly as expected” or “worse than expected”, it’s not known if Pete Hegseth (b 1980; US Secretary of Defense (and War) since 2025) was much assured by Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) saying of him he had done a “fantastic job” but if so, he might have considered that apparent endorsement in the light of the POTUS having just sacked his chief of staff (Susan Wiles (b 1957, chief of staff to the POTUS 2025-2026) despite a fortnight earlier, in response to a question asking if her was considering replacing her answering: “Zero chance, zero.  She’s phenomenal.”  The election results however seemed to focus Mr Trump’s mind and, after announcing her departure, he told the press Ms Wiles had done “a great job… but I just wanted to make a change”, later adding “We’ve got to make moves.  Sometimes in life, you have to make moves.”  Commentators in a number of places have taken some glee is tracking the large numbers of women dismissed from positions during the second Trump administration, contrasting that toll with the remarkable survival rate among the men, even those whose conduct in office has been less than stellar, one even subsequently appointed US ambassador to the UN (United Nations), an institution for which the POTUS has no fondness.  He probably thought of the job rather as Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 and POTUS 1969-1974) regarded the embassy in Upper Volta.

Pete Hegseth (in brown shoes, left) and Donald Trump (right) beneath flags, Marine Corps Base, Quantico, Virginia, October 2025.

Certainly, Mr Trump would have understood the point made by Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) who, in Their Finest Hour (The Second World War, Volume II, (1949)), writing of political leadership, observed: “If he trips he must be sustained.  If he makes mistakes they must be covered.  If he sleeps he must not be wantonly disturbed.  If he is no good he must be pole-axed.”  The historian Professor John Ramsden (1947–2009) summed up Churchill’s explanation of the mechanics of the process as “autocracy tempered by assassination”.  Even if not familiar with those passages, presumably Mr Hegseth is wondering if in the POTUS’s mind he’s being “sustained” or about to be “pole-axed” but anyway seems in no mood to admit making mistakes that would benefit from a “covering up”.  Addressing a rare press conference, when responding to a motion of impeachment introduced in the house by disaffected Republican Thomas Massie (b 1971, US Representative for Kentucky 4th congressional district since 2012) who’d been “primaried” by Mr Trump and was thus serving in his last congress, Mr Hegseth was combative, conceding nothing and comparing the unfairness of him being impeached with no such action being taken against Lloyd Austin (b 1953; US Secretary of Defense 2021-2025), despite the several grounds Mr Hegseth cited as a reasonable basis for Congress to take such a step.

In his address, Mr Hegseth managed also to use a phrase suggesting General Austin (an African-American) had been a “DEI” (diversity, equity & inclusion) appointment; Mr Massie’s motion was voted down in the (still) Republican-controlled chamber.  It was a set-piece performance by Mr Hegseth who has been criticized as appearing to be “a method actor auditioning for the part ‘strong, confident and decisive secretary of defense’”, the consensus being he’d likely not be offered the role because of a tendency to “over-act”.  In that, he was unlike the deliciously wicked Donald Rumsfeld (1932–2021: US Secretary of Defense 1975-1977 & 2001-2006) who was strong, confident and decisive, conveying exactly that with a clipped, precise, yet seemingly effortless delivery.  His predecessor’s political fate will however not much encourage Mr Hegseth, Mr Rumsfeld sacked by George W Bush (George XLIII, b 1946; POTUS 2001-2009) immediately after the Republicans were routed in the 2006 mid-term elections.  Most POTUSes have not found the attitude of Harry S. Truman (1884–1972; POTUS 1945-1953) helpful, preferring to have the buck stop somewhere lower down the chain of command. 

Doing a “fabulous job” of looking fabulous: Sydney Sweeney (b 1997) on the cover of Fabulous magazine, August 2025.

As a one-time employee of Fox News (with all that implies), Mr Hegseth will have noticed the similarity in personnel management practices between Mr Trump and Rupert Murdoch (b 1931), both very much of the “hire ‘em and fire ‘em” school and if dwelling on the POTUS saying he’d done a “fantastic job” while in charge of the Pentagon, he may recall it was President Bush minor who had sacked Colin Powell (1937–2021; US Secretary of State 2001-2005) a few months after telling the press at a gathering at his ranch in Crawford, Texas that general had done a “fabulous job” as his “vicar of foreign policy”.  Even at the time, nobody in the White House press corps could recall anyone in Texas ever being dubbed “fabulous” (except maybe in Oil Can Harry’s in Austin) so the conclusion was General Powell's political career prospects were not good.  So it proved.  How Mr Hegseth will determine whether it augers better if one’s boss says one is doing a “fantastic job” rather than a “fabulous job” isn’t known but what won’t be reassuring is that Mr Trump also doubtlessly agrees with Churchill about the circumstances when a swift pole-axing is demanded.

Donald Trump endorses Mr Hegseth's continuation in office, says he has done a “fantastic job” and explains why the “state of armed conflict” in the Persian Gulf is not a “war”.  Had it not been for certain recent events, he might have styled the venture a “special military operation”.

In February 1953, the prime minister had explained to his personal physician (Lord Moran, Charles Wilson, 1882-1977; president of the RCP (Royal College of Physicians) 1941-1949, personal physician to Winston Churchill 1940-1965) why he needed a referral to another eye specialist, Moran noting in his diary: “The P.M. asked me today if he could see another eye specialist.  ‘I have stuck to Juler [Dr Frank Anderson Juler (1888-1962), Ophthalmic Surgeon, St. Mary’s Hospital, London] for so long,’ he told me, ‘because he did discover the in-growing eyelashes when no one else did.  At that time my eyes were so bad I could not read, even official documents.  But he is stumped now, and we must change the bowling.’”  Other than polo and big game hunting (the latter still then thought by many a “sport”), Churchill took little interest in sport so may be forgiven for mixing his metaphors; in cricket it’s a batsman (the gender-neutral “batter” now preferred) who is “stumped” (ie the bails atop the wicket dislodged with the ball by the wicket keeper or other fieldsman (fielder) while the batter is “out of their crease”), the correct idiomatic phrase to describe an ineffective bowler being something like “hit out of the attack”.  It's doubtful Mr Hegseth knows much of the jargon of cricket but he'd get the idea.

Looking fantastic: Lindsay Lohan in skin-tight teal wetsuit during the filming of Freakier Friday (2025), Malibu Beach, California, August 2024.

Mr Hegseth has been a reformer within the US military and the POTUS has praised him as a “great warrior” who has re-oriented the military away from becoming a “woke institution”, pointing out it had become top-heavy and administratively bloated, more generals reputedly on the establishment than during World War II (1939-1945) when the largest conflict in human history was being prosecuted.  It seems the Pentagon proved as vulnerable as any to the phenomenon of “bureaucratic inertia” and other militaries have similarly been affected.  When in 1952 a delegation from the newly elected British government visited the embassy in Washington DC, instead of the expected handful of military liaison officers, there were over a hundred, nobody in London having ever reduced the establishment created during the war, by then over for more than six years.  Still, Mr Hegseth’s well-publicized assault on the “woke agenda” (ending DEI programmes and banning transgender soldiers from service, conducting testosterone tests on serving personnel etc) has acted like a lightning rod for the Democratic Party and his stance on these matters, combined with the “Iran war” that hasn’t gone as intended, mean impeachment may be re-visited when the new (Democrat controlled) congress assembles in January.  At that point, the word “fantastic” may start to be used of Mr Hegseth in one of its more ancient senses.

Fabulous

Fabulous (pronounced fab-yuh-luhs)

(1) Of or relating to fables; stories wholly or substantially of the imaginary and known of through myth or legend; something in the record known to be unhistorical.

(2) Characteristic of fables; marvelous, extraordinary, incredible.

(3) Almost impossible to believe; incredible.

(4) Fictional; made-up; a falsehood (the latter archaic in its disparaging sense).

(5) Exceptionally good or unusual, wonderful or superb.

(6) Fashionable, glamorous.

(7) In slang or as a euphemism, gay or pertaining to gay people; camp, effeminate ("a fabulousity" suggested as a collective noun for gay men but it never caught on) .

Circa 1550: From the Late Middle English fabulous & fabulose, from the Latin fābulōsus (celebrated in fable; rich in myth), the construct being fābul(a) (a story, a tale) + -ōsus (the adjectival suffix).  The –ōsus suffix (familiar in English as –ous) was from Classical Latin from -ōnt-to-s from -o-wont-to -s, the latter form a combination of two primitive Indo-European suffixes: -went & -wont.  Related to these were –entus and the Ancient Greek -εις (-eis) and all were used to form adjectives from nouns.  In Latin, -ōsus was added to a noun to form an adjective indicating an abundance of that noun.  As a literary genre (and some fables came from oral traditions) fables were stories told usually to make some moral point or illustrate the consequences of one’s actions and while they could sometimes involve fantastical creatures like winged stallions or unicorns, sometimes they involved fictional characters who were mere flesh & blood and even a multi-volume, epic-length novel like Don Quixote (1605-1615) by Miguel de Cervantes circa 1547–1616) can be thought a fable.  There is some evidence of use in the gay faction of the LGBTQQIAAOP community of fabulous as a (non-standard) noun, sometimes in the forms “uber-fabulous” & “ultra-fabulous” although those constructions are used also as adjectives of especial emphasis; that means there's a distinction between used in the “high camp” tradition and more generally.  Fabulous is an adjective, fabulousness & fabulosity are nouns, fabulize, fabulizing & fabulized are verbs and fabulously is an adverb; the use is the plural is rare but in informal use both fabulousnesses & fabulosities have been seen. 

Looking fabulous: Lindsay Lohan on the cover of Fabulous magazine, August 2010.

The original sense was “of or pertaining to fable” and dates from the 1550s.  The now familiar meaning shift began as early as the turn of the seventeenth century when the word was recorded as conveying the sense of “incredible”, extended soon to “enormous, immense; amazing”; by the mid-twentieth century, almost exclusively it meant “marvelous; wonderful, superb”.  The clipping to create the slang “fab” was in use by at least 1957 and that spiked after 1963 when the alliterative “fab four” was used to describe the pop group, The Beatles.  When in 1965 revising Henry Fowler’s (1858–1933), A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926), Sir Ernest Gowers (1880–1966) maintained his predecessor’s disapproval of much that was a bit too modern, noting that correctly, fabulous meant “…mythical, legendary, but was long ago extended to do duty as an adjective for something that is real but so astonishing that you might not think it was legendary if you did not know better.”, adding that it had “…become fabulously popular as a term of eulogy or allure.”  He seemed though to suspect it might be a “fad word”, noting it and its contracted forms “fab” & “fabs”, like “fantastic”, were perhaps the latest “…in that long list of words which boys and girls use for a time to express high commendation and then get tired of, such as, to go no farther back than the present century, topping, spiffing, ripping, wizard, super, posh & smashing.”

One suspects Henry Fowler and Sir Ernest would be impressed but not surprised by the churn-rate of “fad words” in the TikTok era.  Decades on however, “fab” seems to have endured and “fabulous” is entrenched in its familiar role, even the more recent portmanteau adjective fantabulous (the construct being fanta(stic) + (fa)bulous) surviving in its niche.  Fabulous probably gained a new lease of life when in the late 1960s it was picked up by the gay community as a “preferred word”, used it even as a noun; it remains an essential element in the camp vocabulary and the nuance can shift between adulation and indifference, just with a shift in the syllable-stressing or tone of voice.  Unless it’s between scholars, those wishing to convey the original meaning should probably use terms such as “fabled” or “mythological” rather than fabulous; even “legendary” can be ambiguous because it’s now often used to mean something like “famous” or “very well-known”.

Lindsay Lohan in an unusual cage cut-out top, the lines assuming or relaxing from the orthogonal as the body moves (maybe an instance of a "shifting semiorthogonal"), The World's First Fabulous Fund Fair in aid of the Naked Heart Foundation, The Roundhouse, London, February 2015.  An opportunity was missed by not adding a sympathetic clutch purse; an ensemble like this needs something to hold in one hand.

George W. Bush, Condoleezza Rice & Colin Powell.

The phrase “the fabulous invalid” refers to live theatre.  The reference come from a 1938 stage play of that name, written by George S. Kaufman (1889-1961) and Moss Hart (1904-1961), the work following the seesawing fortunes of a fictitious Broadway theatre between 1900-1930.  In a touching irony, while the play was barely a modest success and not highly regarded (even by its authors), as a phrase the title has endured not only as a reference to live theatre as a declining industry but also of stage productions generally.   George W. Bush (George XLIII, b 1946; POTUS 2001-2009) who (admittedly unwittingly) contributed more than most to coining new words & novel grammatical structures, probably wasn’t deliberately alluding the original meaning of fabulous when he used it to describe the performance of his first foreign minister, Colin Powell (1937–2021; US secretary of state 2001-2005) but if considered thus it certainly reflected his view the former general’s favorable public image reflected more myth than reality and he’d prefer a secretary of state who both ticked a few boxes and was better attuned to his more brutish world-view.

General Colin Powell with “two of his favourite” Volvo 122 Series cars (“Amazon” 1956-1970).

In Dr Condoleezza Rice (b 1954; US secretary of state 2005-2009) he certainly got that but in the run-up to the invasion of Iraq, whatever might have been his better judgment, the general did his job because, as Generalfeldmarschall (Field Marshal) Wilhelm Keitel (1882–1946; head of OKW (Oberkommando der Wehrmacht, the German armed forces high command 1938-1945) put it during his unsuccessful defense at the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946): “For a soldier, orders are orders.”  General Powel's flirtation with politics has the quality of a fable and the story of Condoleezza Rice’s career in government even more so; a cautionary tale of what can happen when a nice young lady from a good family gets mixed up with “the wrong crowd” (Bush, Dick Cheney (1941-2025; VPOTUS 2001-2009), Donald Rumsfeld (1932–2021: US defense secretary 1975-1977 & 2001-2006) et al) who lead her astray.

White House transcript of press conference assembled when the president met with Colin Powell and Richard Armitage (b 1945; US deputy secretary of state 2001-2005) at his ranch in Crawford, Texas, Wednesday, 6 August, 2003:

THE PRESIDENT: First, it's been my real privilege and honor to welcome the Secretary of State back to Crawford. He and Dick Armitage came, and we spent yesterday evening and this morning talking about our country's desire to promote peace and freedom, our obligations as a prosperous and strong nation to help the less fortunate. And we had a good strategy session, and now we're about to go out and brand some cows -- well, not exactly. (Laughter)

QUESTION: Sir, you've seen the report that Secretary Powell and Secretary Armitage are going to leave at the end of this administration. Do you expect them to stay on if there is a second Bush administration? Would you like them to?

THE PRESIDENT: Well, first things first, we hope there is a second Bush administration. And I will work hard to convince the American people that their confidence in me is justified. And we'll deal with it at the right time.  Listen, this guy has done a fabulous job. Washington, particularly in August, is a dangerous period -- a dangerous time, because there's a lot of speculation. And all I can tell you is, the man flies to Crawford and we spend a good 24 hours talking about how we're going to work together to make the world a better place.

QUESTION: But, Mr. President, you said, we'll deal with it…

THE PRESIDENT: Yes, Elizabeth.

QUESTION: We'll deal with it at the right time. That isn't "yes".

THE PRESIDENT: Deal with what at the right time?

QUESTION: With whether Secretary Powell will serve in a second term. Is that, "yes" or "no"? I mean, are you going to offer him a spot in the second term?

SECRETARY POWELL: I don't have a term. I serve the President. (Laughter)

QUESTION: No, but the President…

THE PRESIDENT: Elizabeth, look, first things first, and that is, we've got a year-and-a-while during my first term to make the world a more peaceful place and we'll deal with it. Washington loves speculation. Clearly, you love speculation. You love it. You love to speculate about…

QUESTION: It wasn't my story. (Laughter.)

THE PRESIDENT: Let me finish, please; let me finish. You love to speculate about whether so-and-so is going to be a part of the administration or not. And I understand the game. But I have got to do my job, and I'm going to do it. And I'm going to do it with the Secretary of State. And the fact that he is here in Crawford, Texas, talking about issues of importance, should say loud and clear to the American people that he's completely engaged in doing what he needs to do, and that is, serve as a great Secretary of State.

QUESTION: Do you want to serve more than four years, Mr. Secretary?

SECRETARY POWELL: I serve at the pleasure of the President, and this is all August speculation with no basis in fact. There was no basis for this story to begin with, and we're doing our jobs together.

THE PRESIDENT: All right. We're going to get a burger. Thank you.

Like all in the cabinet, a secretary of state does “serve at the pleasure of the president” and historians seem at one in asserting it was the POTUS who delegated to his chief of staff the task of requesting the general tender his resignation.  It is no criticism of Mr Bush that he delayed this “constructive dismissal” until a few days after his re-election in November 2024; that’s just orthodox politics and the day after the letter was in his hands, he nominated Dr Rice as his new secretary of state.  Not long after the burgers were served at Crawford, stories appeared on the wire services noting it was most unusual in Texas to hear someone spoken of having “done a fabulous job” (it’s the sort of thing one hears in places like San Francisco) and speculation began it might be a phrase in the sporting tradition of “the coach has our full confidence”, not infrequently a prelude to a sacking after a string of losses. 

Riband

Riband (pronounced rib-uh-nd)

(1) A decorative ribbon, especially one awarded for some achievement.

(2) A flat rail attached to posts in a palisade

(3) In heraldry, a narrow diminutive of the bend, thinner than a bendlet.

(4) An archaic form of ribbon with excrescent -d.

1350–1400: From the Middle English ribane, (the spelling ryban does exist in the record but it seems not to have attained much currency and may simply have been a mistake which briefly spread) from the Old French riban (ribbon), a variant of reuban & ruban, probably from a Germanic compound.  The spelling riband endures as descriptor of awards, often in polo or other equestrian hobbies of the horsey set although the informal phrase “blue riband event” is applied also to what is considered the premier contest in a particular competition.  This includes things like the men’s 100 metre sprint at the Olympics, the Melbourne Cup during the Spring Racing Carnival or the Monaco Grand Prix in Formula One's calendar.  The origin of this use is in the wide blue ribbon worn by members of the highest order of knighthood, L'Ordre des chevaliers du Saint-Esprit, instituted by Henri III (1551–1589; King of France 1574-1589) in 1578, an order colloquially known as “Le Cordon Bleus” (the Blue Ribbons).  From this the world of cooking adopted Cordon Bleu, the famous French cooking school, founded in 1895, where chefs wear blue cord on their aprons, a color scheme still seen in many chefs’ uniforms.  Ribband & ribbandry are nouns; the noun plural is ribbands.

Lindsay Lohan in Phillip Lim (b 1973) Runway Tiered Ribbon Shell, Apple Lounge Grand Opening, West Hollywood, California, August 2008

Tiered ribbon constructions are based on the idea of successive layers of ribbons assembled (usually horizontally) and stitched to create a fabric that can be used for a variety of designs.  Because of the modularity, the layering makes possible multi-coloring or shifts in the texture but most designers using the technique seem to prefer solid colors in the same material.  The tiered ribbon concept produces a look similar to that seen on the bandage dress (a subset of the bodycon motif) except that, emulating ribbons, the layers tend to be of lesser depth and the construction not "body hugging" in the way the bandage generates its effect.  The term is used also in the wedding cake business where a thick ribbon is used to encircle each layer of the cake, the idea thematically to in some way tie in with the ceremony's optics, bridesmaid's dresses or table napkins often the match.  With the bride's gown, table cloths and cake icing all in white, Prussian blue is a good choice.

Young lady with tiered (panelled) dress.  The car is a first generation (1966-1969) 1967 Chevrolet Camaro SS Sport Coupe; this was the last season cars could be sold in the US without side-marker lights and the Camaro’s final appearance with quarter-vent windows, the 1968 range introducing the “Astro Ventilation” system, Chevrolet’s “groovy” term for “flow-through ventilation”.

In dressmaking, although tiered (panelled), bandage and ribbon dresses use variations of the same visual effect (and often the same technique of construction), the term “ribbon” is, by convention, restricted to designs in which the successive “layers” are narrow enough to suggest an aspect ratio similar to the ribbons typically used in the wrapping of presents or to tie plaits, pony-tails and such.  What all three types have in common is that despite the appearance, not all are built with separate pieces of fabric, some a single length of material with an illusion of “separateness” (specifically un-gathered horizontal tiers (also referred to as horizontal piecing or banded construction)) created by strategic stitching.  Although the concept is simple, execution of any of these demands precision because each seam (or its emulation) needs exactly to be parallel with  all others regardless of the detail differences.  While most tiered dresses gather each lower band for volume, a “straight column” or “sheath” skirt can be built from successive horizontal panels sewn together edge-to-edge. This creates visible horizontal seam lines down the length of the garment, the advantage of this being the line is preserved without additional fullness.  Although it may seem “fussy detailing”, designers often use tiers on straight skirts because the horizontal bands creates an “architectural structure”, the “visual breaks” in the long, narrow silhouette there for the same reason such things appear on buildings or cars with a large expanse of otherwise flat panel-work.  Done well, it can demand a close inspection to determine whether the seamstress has used separate pieces of fabric or emulated the look with ticked or lapped seams.  The bandage dress is quite specific to the “bodycon” genre but, as a general principle, the tiered technique can be used for just about any style of skirt or dress although designers caution that with any accessories, it’s usually better to conform to the “horizontal motif”.  For those wishing to use the effect to the greatest the empire-line is recommended.

Mr Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor (b 1960, formerly Prince Andrew, Duke of York, Admiral, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter (an order of chivalry founded in 1348)).  Because of some "unpleasantness", he's now prohibited from donning his many military uniforms but remains entitled to wear his medals or the associated ribbon bars (although the latter are usually not paired with civilian dress).

Ribbon dates from the 1520s and was from the English riban, ryban & ryband, from Old French riban & ruban (persisting in modern French as ruban).  The origin is murky but etymologists suspect the source was likely from a Germanic compound with a second element cognate with English band (the Middle Dutch ringhband (necklace) translates literally as “ring-band”.  The Middle English forms displaced the native Old English þwǣle (strip, ribbon).  The modern spelling was (more or less) standardized in the sixteenth century, describing a “stripe in fabric”, the sense of a "narrow woven band of some find material" for ornamental or other purposes known by the 1520s while the familiar meaning (long, thin, flexible strips) dates from 1763.  The use to describe the "ink-soaked strip wound on a spool for use on a typewriter" was from 1883 and the idea of a “torn strip of anything” was in use by 1820 while the sense as a verb (adorn with ribbons) was in use by at least 1715.  The custom of wearing colored ribbon loops on the lapel to declare support for a cause (pink for breast cancer, copper for herpes etc) began is 1991 with AIDS red ribbons and there’s now such an array that of the hundreds of causes now ribboned, there are many duplications so the fabric (or its representation) sometimes include text, the other differentiation being to use multiple colors, teal & purple for example claimed by the suicide awareness community.  In military use, "ribbon bars" (or "military ribbons) are small, mounted fabric representations of military medals, decorations, or service awards worn on uniform dress shirts or service coats when full-sized medals are not appropriate.  The ribbon bars are a "slice" of the full ribbon used to connects the suspension to the brooch; made originally of silk synthetic materials such as polyester are now common.

Over 500-odd years, words fall in and out of fashion.

Google Ngram (a quantitative and not qualitative measure): Because of the way Google harvests data for their Ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, Ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts (typically a scanner might misread an “f” for a long “s” or a “u” for an “n”) of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI (artificial intelligence) should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested. 

SS United States.

Although not formalized until 1935, the Trans-Atlantic Blue Riband is the honor awarded to the passenger liner in regular service crossing the Atlantic Ocean in the fastest time (and thus the highest average speed).  Over more than a century, 35 liners have held the record, the accolade first (retrospectively) won by the British SS Sirius which, in May 1838, took 15 days to cross at 7.31 knots (13.54 km/h), the last by the SS United States which in 1952 made 35.59 knots (65.91 km/h).  The 1952 mark (set over 3 day, 10 hours, 40 minutes) remains unbroken; those vessels that subsequently have achieved higher speeds have not been ocean liners and the fastest have been built specifically to set the record.  Other awards have been created to acknowledge the absolute speed records in various classes of competition so the Blue Riband remains historically unique.  Once both the fastest, safest and most economical way to make the crossing, it was the advent of the jet-age that doomed the fast ocean-liner.  The Boeing 707 and Douglas DC8 both began regular trans-Atlantic services in 1958 and the business of the big ships went into decline, revived periodically during periods of economic buoyancy as cruise liners with an emphasis on packaged tourism for the middle-class and luxury for the rich rather than speed so the record of the SS United States seems unlikely to be broken.  Although as early as the mid-1950s piston-engine aircraft had eroded the market, by 1960 the jets made it clear the universe had shifted and the days of the mass-market trans-Atlantic liners were almost done. 

A “ribbon braid” and hoodie combo in (of course) pink.  Babes in Hairland provides detailed instructions for constructing (that really is the best word) a ribbon braid.  The concept is simple but execution demanding; it takes much practice to produce a result as accomplished as this.

Without the need for speed, the cruise ships have got bigger and what were once called “floating hotels” are now better imagined as “floating towns”, some with a capacity of close to 10,000 passengers and crew (including a maximum 7,600 passengers although most go to sea with fewer than 6,500).  The term “big ship” certainly has assumed a new significance in the twenty-first century, the largest maintained by the cruise operators measuring 1,198 feet (365 metres or close to ¼ mile) stem to stern with a gross displacement over a quarter-million tons.  By comparison, the largest Dreadnought (battleship) ever launched was the IJN’s (Imperial Japanese Navy) 大和 (Yamato, 1940-1945) and she was 863 feet (263 metres) in length, displacing 72,000 tons.  The biggest of the modern cruise ships are rated for some 23 knots (42 km/h) and while as an exercise in nautical architecture it would in theory be possible to build an ocean liner able (under ideal conditions) to cross the Atlantic at 50 knots (93 km/h) or more while carrying at least as many passengers as the SS United States (around 2,000), such a venture would not be economically viable because demand at the price point(s) required to ensure profitability would not exist.

Last days afloat for USS United States: Moored in Florida awaiting scuttling.

The only traditional ocean liner still sometimes used for the crossing is the RMS Queen Mary 2 (in service since 2004) and although in sea trials able to achieve 30 knots (56 km/h), her usual operating maximum is 26 knots (48 km/h).  In truth, even the Blue Riband winning run in 1952 was not typical of trans-Atlantic operations, the speed achieved at the cost of fuel consumption, the excess volume carried and burned over the 3½ days unsustainable in any commercial operation; the one-off sprint for the ship's maiden voyage was a publicity stunt to ensure the US regained the title from the British, the RMS Queen Mary between 10-14 August, having crossed in 3 days, 20 hours, 42 minutes at 31.69 knots (58.69 km/h).  Because most mail transported over distances is now carried by air, “RMS” (Royal Mail Ship) is now mostly a historic relic with the UK’s Royal Mail usually granting warrants for the prefix to be used only on the handful of vessels still used for the purpose.  Despite no longer being a mail carrier, Cunard’s Royal Mary 2 was granted an “RMS” because of the line’s long tradition.  When introduced in the nineteenth century the “SS” prefix stood for “Single-screw steamship” but, as technology evolved, use was clipped to a generic “steam ship”.  As a footnote, the tale that in 1945 the board of S.S. Cars in England voted to change the company’s name to “Jaguar” because of unpleasant memories of the Nazi era SS is an urban myth, the re-branding made just to achieve distinctiveness in the marketplace (ie product differentiation).

The SS (ᛋᛋ in Armanen runes; Schutzstaffel (literally “protection squadron” but translated variously as “protection squad”, “security section” etc)) was formed (under different names) in 1923 as a Nazi party squad to provide security at public meetings (then often rowdy and violet affairs) and was later re-purposed as a personal bodyguard for Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945).  The SS name was adopted in 1925 and during the Third Reich the institution evolved into a vast economic, industrial and military apparatus more than two million strong to the point where some historians (and contemporaries) regarded it as a kind of “state within a state”.  The Waffen-SS (armed SS (ie equipped with military-grade weapons)) existed on a small scale as early as 1933 before Hitler’s agreement was secured to create a formation at divisional strength and growth was gradual even after the outbreak of hostilities in 1939; it was the invasion of the Soviet Union in 1941 that triggered the Waffen-SS’s expansion into a multi-national armoured force with over 700,000 men under arms.  As well as the SS’s role in the administration of the many concentration and extermination camps, the Waffen-SS widely was implicated in war crimes and crimes against humanity.

SS United States (upper) and SS America (lower), New York Harbor, 7 April, 1963 with the Manhattan skyline in the background.  This was a postcard issued by the Steelograph Company, One Broadway, New York City.

SS America had a desultory and often unhappy career after in 1964 being sold by USL (United States Line), her end coming in 1994 when she ran around in the Canary Islands while under tow to Thailand where a refit as a floating hotel was planned.  Over the decades, rough seas broke up the wreck and by 2026, even at low tide, nothing remained visible.  SS United States remained in trans-Atlantic service even after ceasing to be profitable and, in a sigh of the times, USL struck it from their active list in 1969, the year in which the Anglo-French SST (supersonic transport) Concorde and Boeing 747 “jumbo-jet” undertook their maiden flights.  Between 1969 and 2026, remarkably, she never re-entered service or fulfilled any commercial purpose, instead passing between owners who had a variety of plans, all of which were abandoned once accountants, with due diligence, ran the numbers.  Finally, after all those peripatetic years moving from port to port, on Wednesday 11 November, 2026 (a day ahead of schedule to avoid bad weather), she was taken in tow and scuttled some 22 nautical miles north-west of Destin-Fort Walton Beach, Florida, creating (at 990 feet (302 metres) stem to stern) the planet's largest artificial reef, open as a shared space to both fish and divers.  The latter are able to use coordinates 30^o 07.148' N, 86^o 46.755' W (30.119133° N, 86.779250° W in decimal degrees) to locate the wreck's offshore deployment site, the former left to their own devices.  The event was live-streamed.