Bubble (pronounced buhb-uhl)
(1) A spherical globule of gas (or vacuum)
contained in a liquid or solid.
(2) Anything that lacks firmness, substance, or
permanence; an illusion or delusion.
(3) An inflated speculation, especially if
fraudulent.
(4) The act or sound of bubbling.
(5) A spherical or nearly spherical canopy or
shelter; dome.
(6) To form, produce, or release bubbles;
effervesce.
(7) To flow or spout with a gurgling noise;
gurgle.
(8) To speak, move, issue forth, or exist in a
lively, sparkling manner; exude cheer.
(9) To seethe or stir, as with excitement; to
boil.
(10) To cheat; deceive; swindle (archaic).
(11) To cry (archaic Scots).
(12) A type of skirt.
(13) In infection control management, a system of physical isolation in which un-infected sub-sets population are protected by restricting their exposure to others.
1350-1400: From the Middle English noun bobel which may have been from the Middle Dutch bubbel & bobbel and/or the Low German bubbel (bubble) and Middle Low German verb bubbele, all thought to be of echoic origin. The related forms include the Swedish bubbla (bubble), the Danish boble (bubble) and the Dutch bobble. The use to describe markets, inflated in value by speculation widely beyond any relationship to their intrinsic value, dates from the South Sea Bubble (a classic example of stock-price speculation) which began circa 1711 and collapsed in 1720. In response to the collapse, the UK parliament passed The Bubble Act (1720), which required anyone seeking to float a joint-stock company to first secure a royal charter; interestingly, the act was supported by the South Sea Company before its failure. Ever since cryptocurrencies emerged, analysts have been describing them as a bubble which will burst and while that has happened with hundreds of coins (the exchange collapses are something different), the industry thus far has continued with only with occasional periods of inflation and deflation; this makes cryptocurrencies highly volatile meaning there is much scope for profit and much risk of loss, the extent to which they're subject to insider trading an manipulation has been debated but only as a matter of degree. Bubble & bubbling are nouns & verbs, bubbler is a noun, bubbled is a verb, bubbly is a noun & adjective, bubbleless & bubblelike are adjectives and bubblingly is an adverb; the noun plural is bubbles.
However, although the South Sea affair was the first use of “bubble” to describe such a market condition, it wasn’t the first instance of a bubble, the most infamous of which was the Dutch tulpenmanie (tulip mania) which bounced during the 1630s, contract prices for some bulbs of the recently introduced and wildly fashionable flower reaching extraordinarily high levels, the values accelerating from 1634 until a sudden collapse in 1637. Apparently just a thing explained by a classic supply and demand curve, the tulip bubble burst with the first big harvest which demonstrated the bulbs and flowers were really quite common and easy to grow. In history, there would previously have been many bubbles but it wasn’t until the economies and financial systems of early-modern Europe were operating that the technical conditions existed for them to manifest in the form and to the extent we now understand. Interestingly, for something often regarded as the proto-speculative asset bubble and a landmark in economic history, twentieth-century revisionist historians have suggested it was more a behavioral phenomenon than anything with any great influence on the operation of financial markets or the real economy, the “economic golden age” of the Dutch Republic apparently continuing (mostly) unaffected for almost a century after the bottom fell out of the tulip market. The figurative uses have been created or emerged as required, the first reference pre-dating the tulip affair, the usual motion being andything lacking a desired firmness, substance, or permanence; the first recorded used was in the 1590s but it was likely long established in oral use. The soap-bubble dates from 1800, bubble-shell is from 1847, bubble-gum was introduced in 1935 and bubble-bath appears first to have be sold in 1937. The slang noun variation “bubbly” was first noted in 1920, an invention of US English to describe a happy, talkative young lady.
The term "bubble top" (also briefly as "bubble-top") came into use in the 1940s after advances in materials and manufacturing techniques allowed the cockpit canopies of aircraft to be made using large Perspex moldings. The concept had been around for decades but it was the combination of modern plastics and the demands of wartime which made possible the mass-production of large moldings. The designers called them "bubble canopies" but pilots preferred the snappier "bubbletop". Spitfire TE288 was built in May 1945 at Vickers Armstrong's Castle Bromwich factory but, with the end of hostilities in Europe it was only briefly in service, mostly in a training role. Gifted in 1964 to the Canterbury branch of the Brevet Club, it was mounted on a plinth as a memorial outside the club's building but by 1984 had become so valuable it was moved to the RNZAF (Royal New Zealand Air Force) museum at Wigram. During restoration, molds were taken and a fibreglass replica was constructed to be placed on the plinth. Optimized for the low-altitude performance needed to counter the threat of the German V1 “Doodlebugs” (an early cruise missile), the Spitfire Mk XVI was a variant of the Mark IX and powered by the Packard-built Rolls-Royce Merlin 266 engine rated 1,720 HP (horsepower). Entering production in October 1944, 1,054 were built and as well as serving as interceptors, they were used in the ground attack role, notably against the sites from which the V2 missiles (an early ballistic missile and the first major step on the path to ICBMs (inter-continental ballistic missile) and the big rockets used by the US in the Apollo programme) were launched. The bubble canopy afforded outstanding visibility while the clipped wingtips improved responsiveness (notably the superior roll-rate) while sacrificing some performance above 15,000 feet (4,500 metres) but by then the demands of aerial combat had shifted lower in the sky.
The term (as bubble top) later was applied to cars with rooflines in a shape which recalled the use in aviation although the structures were of conventional metal & glass. The classic examples were the full-sized two-door hardtops produced by GM's (General Motors) Chevrolet and Pontiac divisions in 1960-1962, the 1961 models the most collectable. The 1961 Pontiac Ventura Sports Coupe (a sub-model of the Catalina) pictured is fitted with Pontiac's much admired 8-Lug wheels, their exposed centres actually the brake drum to which the rim (in the true sense of the word) directly was bolted. Introduced for 1960, the design was a fortuitous conjunction of fashion & function because as well as looking good, the heat dissipation qualities were outstanding, addressing one of the problems which plagued drum brakes. Unfortunately, the design was not compatible with (outboard) disc brakes and as their fitment increased, sales of the option (circa US$125) fell and in 1968 production of the 8-Lug ceased.
The word "bubble" spiked shortly after the start of the Covid-19 pandemic. Over time, use has expanded to encompass large-scale operations like touring sporting teams and even the geographical spaces used for the 2022 Beijing Winter Olympics but the original meaning was more modest: small groups based on close friends, an extended family or co-workers. These small bubbles weren't supposed to be too elastic and operated in conjunction with other limits imposed in various jurisdictions; a bubble might consist of a dozen people but a local authority might limit gatherings to ten in the one physical space so two could miss out, depending on the details in the local rules. The way most governments handled the pandemic was a bit muddled but in such events, as in most wars, much is a muddle. Bubble thus began as an an unofficial term used to describe the cluster of people beyond one's household with whom one felt comfortable in an age of what was believed a highly infectious virus. Bubbles were however a means of risk-reduction, not a form of quarantine. In a bubble, risk still exist, most obviously because some may belong to more than one bubble, contact thus having a multiplier effect, the greater the number of interactions, the greater the odds of infection so staying home and limiting physical contact with others remained preferable, the next best thing to an imposed quarantine. The more rigorously administered bubbles used for events like the Olympics are essentially exercises in perimeter control, a defined "clean" area, entry into which is restricted to those tested and found uninfected. At the scale of something like an Olympic games, it's a massive undertaking to secure the edges but, given sufficient resource allocation can be done although it's probably misleading to speak of such an operation as as a "bubble". Done with the static-spaces of Olympic venues, they're really quarantine-zones. Bubble more correctly describes touring sporting teams which move as isolated bubbles often through unregulated space.
The Bubble Skirt
A type of short skirt with a balloon style silhouette, the bubble dress (more accurately described as a bubble skirt because that’s the bit to which the description applies) is characterized by a voluminous skirt with the hem folded back on itself to create a “bubble” effect at the hemline. Within the industry, it was initially called a tulip skirt, apparently because of an at least vague resemblance to the flower but the public preferred bubble. It shouldn’t be confused with the modern tulip skirt and the tulip-bubble thing is just a linguistic coincidence; there’s no link with the Dutch tulipmania of the 1630s. Stylistically, the bubble design is a borrowing from the nineteenth century bouffant gown which featured a silhouette made of a wide, full skirt resembling a hoop skirt, sometimes with a hoop or petticoat beneath to provide structural support. While bouffant gowns could be tea (mid-calf) or floor length, bubble skirts tend to truncate the look well above the knee; while calf-length creations are seen in collects, they're rare on the high street. Perhaps with a little more geometric accuracy, the design is known also as the “puffball” and, in an allusion to oriental imagery, the “harem” skirt. Fashion designer Christian Lacroix (b 1951) became fond of the look and a variation included in his debut collection was dubbed le pouf but, in English, the idea of the “poof skirt” never caught on although it was used by furniture makers.
It must have been a memorable sight in the still austere post-war world, a sheath dress made voluminous with layers of organza or tulle, the result a cocoon-like dress with which Pierre Cardin (1922-2022) and Hubert de Givenchy (1927-2018) experimented in 1954 and 1958, respectively. A year later, Yves Saint Laurent (1936-2008) for Dior added the combination of a dropped waist dress and bubble skirt; post-modernism had arrived. For dressmakers, bubble fashion presented a structural challenge and mass-production became economically feasible only because of advances in material engineering, newly available plastics able to be molded in a way that made possible the unique inner construction and iconic drape of the fabric. For that effect to work, bubble skirts must be made with a soft, pliable fabric and the catwalk originals were constructed from silk, as are many of the high end articles available today but mass-market copies are usually rendered from cotton, polyester knits, satin or taffeta.
The bubble in the 1950s by Pierre Cardin (left), Givenchy (centre) & Dior (right). Strikingly, while fashions can change, the preferred models remain much the same.
The bubble skirt was never a staple of the shows in the sense that it would be missing from annual or seasonal collections, sometimes for a decade or more and sales were never high, hardly surprising given it was not often a flattering look for women above a certain age (perhaps anyone aged over eight or nine). Deconstructing the style hints at why: a hemline which loops around and comes back up (created sometimes by including a tighter bottom half with the bulk of additional material above), it formed a shape not dissimilar to a pillow midway through losing its stuffing. For that reason, models caution the look works best when combined with a sleek, fitted top to emphasize the slimness of the waistline, cinched if necessary with a tie or belt of some sort to delineate when one thing starts and the other finishes. The bubble needs to be the feature too, avoiding details or accessories which might otherwise distract; if one appears to be wearing a partially un-stuffed pillow, the point needs to be made it’s being done on purpose and the obvious way that's achieved is to ensure it's the focus piece. Really, tempting though it may seem in the catalogue, it's a style for experts in a narrow BMI (body mass index) range.
US model Karlie Kloss (b 1992), Met Gala 2026, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, May 2026 (left) and a single, long-stemmed white tulip (right). The event's “dress code” for 2026 was “fashion is art” though at the Met Gala it's more “suggested theme” than enforced code and designers long have interpreted things liberally. That liberality sometimes has assumed such a level of abstraction that Met Gala outfits have defied attempts to see a link with the code but in a white, tulipesque bubble dress, Ms Kloss looked artistic enough to be thought commendably on-theme.
On the catwalks however, again seemingly every decade or so, the bubble returns, the industry relying on the short attention span of consumers of pop culture inducing a collective amnesia which allows many resuscitations in tailoring to seem vaguely original or at least a novel variation on the theme. Still, if ever a good case could be made for a take on a whimsical 1950s creation to re-appear, it was the staging of the first shows of the 2020-2021 post-pandemic world and the houses responded, Louis Vuitton, Erdem, Simone Rocha and JW Anderson all with billowy offerings; even seen was an improbably exuberant flourish of volume from Burberry. What appeared on the post-Covid catwalk seemed less disciplined than the post-war originals, the precise constraints of intricately stitched tulle forsaken to encourage rather more swish and flow, the look romantic rather than decadent. Generally the reception was polite but for those who hoped for a more adventurous interpretation, history suggests the bubble will be back in a dozen-odd years.
Although Look 53 may be a classic case study of the disconnect between what appears on catwalks in headline collections and stuff actually sold, that’s not a criticism because such pieces must be assessed on the basis of fulfilling their intended purpose and that this creation admirably did. Pierpaolo Piccioli’s (b 1967) first collection for the house (after a long stint at Valentino) was much anticipated by critics, most of whom appear to have been impressed, noting the designer’s mastery handling of the distinctive “house codes” Balenciaga has over the decades made signatures. So everybody liked the clothes but whether the show notes were of much help is uncertain, notably the text: “The meaning of Balenciaga is a methodology. The process of creation as ideology, as identity, an expression of humanity and human invention.” The collection deserved to be judged on its merits but what to make of the show notes? It was grammatically coherent English and so laden with words and phrases with recognizable semantic associations that, in a strictly linguistic sense, the passage couldn’t be devoid of meaning but what would be concluded by those not students of textual deconstruction? It was of course a delight for those students because it was an exemplar of what in literary theory is called “semantic inflation” (or “floating signifiers”), abstract nouns arranged in a way that might be used by sentences saying something profound while yielding no precise meaning. Structurally, what each phrase did was substitute a metaphorical association for a concrete predication; nothing could be proved or falsified.
Just about every process of course has a “method” with “methodology” used just as a “fancy” way of making what seems an obvious point and while the process of creation certainly can be an expression of an ideology, something more specific in the text may have helped. After all, what people create is by definition “an expression of humanity and human invention”, that applying equally to bubble dresses, hamburgers and nuclear weapons. Still, while not as succinct a statement as something like E=mc2, the show notes were not useless because earnest students of marketing effortlessly would identify the ritualistic, atmospheric prose as part of the discourse of luxury branding which needs to convey characteristics such as “edginess”, “avant-garde sensibility”, “intellectual seriousness” and a certain distance from the vulgar business of selling cheap clothes to the working class shopping at places like Walmart. Between themselves, in expressions, gestures, clothing and more, the rich often communicate in intricate or elaborate codes not obvious to others. Positioning the company in the cultural & economic milieu of those used to abstractions, Balenciaga would be assured the folk who buy their garments could (unlike the literalists at price-tag-focused Walmart), interpret connotative meaning despite the absence of denotative precision, the trick being to read not what is said but what is meant. Indeed, so impressed might some of them have been by the show notes they may even have “sampled” chunks of the text for their next mission statement because it’s hard to improve on: “Recollection rather than tribute, shadows of Balenciaga’s architectonic shapes are embedded in the actuality of today—bold and disruptive volumes applied to clothes that define our modern wardrobe. A vocabulary of contemporaneity, entirely transformed through approach.”
