Pillow

Pillow (pronounced pil-oh)

(1) A bag or case made of cloth that is filled with feathers, down, or other soft material, and is used to cushion the head during sleep or rest.

(2) Any similar construction used to cushion the head; a type of headrest.

(3) In lace-making, a hard cushion or pad that supports the pattern and threads in the making of bobbin lace (also called lace pillow).

(4) In ship-building, a supporting piece or part, as the block on which the inner end of a bowsprit (a spar projecting over the prow of a sailing vessel to provide the means of adding sail surface) rests.

(5) In geology, as “pillow lava”, the rock type resembling the shape of a typical pillow, formed when lava emerges from an underwater volcanic vent or a lava flow enters the ocean.

(6) In engineering, as “pillow block”, a piece of wood or metal, forming a support to equalize pressure (historically known also a “brass”, an allusion to the alloy once commonly used for such purposes.

(7) In engineering, the socket of a pivot.

(8) A kind of plain, coarse fustian (a coarse fabric made originally from cotton and flax and now a coarse fabric of twilled cotton or a cotton & linen mix).

(9) With and without modifiers (love pillows; dirty pillows etc) and usually in the plural, yet another slang term for the human female's breasts.

(10) To rest on a pillow.

(11) To support with pillows.

(12) To serve as a pillow for some purpose.

1450s: From the Middle English pillow & pilow, (a head-rest used by a person reclining, especially a soft, elastic cushion filled with down, feathers etc), from the earlier pilwe, from the Old English pylwe, pylu & pyle (cushion, bed-cushion, pillow), from West Germanic noun pulwi & pulwin (source also of the Old Saxon puli, the Middle Dutch polu, the Dutch peluw, the Old High German pfuliwi and the German Pfühl), from the Proto-West Germanic pulwī (pillow), borrowed (possibly as early as the second century) from the Latin pulvinus (a little cushion, small pillow) of uncertain origin but some etymologists have speculated the construct may have been the Latin pulvis (dust, powder) +‎ -īnus (-ine) (in the sense of the filler of a pillow).  The suffix -īnus (-ine) was from the Proto-Italic -īnos, from the primitive Indo-European –iHnos and was cognate with the Ancient Greek -ινος (-inos) and the Proto-Germanic -īnaz.  In use it was added to a noun base (especially a proper noun) to form an adjective conveying the sense “of or pertaining to” and could indicate a relationship of position, possession, or origin.  The modern English spelling dates from the 1450s.  Pillow & pillowing are nouns & verbs, pillowed is a verb & adjectice and pillowless, pillowy, pillowlike & pillowesque are adjectives; the noun plural is pillows.

Pillowslips (left) in the typical combination of (1) a pair in a matching set with sheets & (2) a pair in a set matching the duvet cover and a quartet of pillowshams (right).  

Use of the pillowcase (washable enclosure drawn over a pillow and known also as a “pillowslip”) probably long predates the first known use of the term in 1745 but the emergence in the 1860s of the “pillowsham” is likely indicative of the tastes of the rising middle-class.  The pillowsham can be thought of as the archetypal middle class accessory and while structurally similar to a pillow case, in the jargon of interior decorators they are distinct.  A pillowcase (or pillowslip) is a basic and close-fitting cover which encases a pillow to protect it and provide a comfortable surface for sleeping.  Typically, pillowcases are made from soft, washable fabrics like cotton, linen, or microfiber and usually feature an open end with a flap; most are simple in design although there can be frills (though not fringes which are restricted to cushions) and the fabric tends to be either a solid color or matching the rest of the bed linen (ie as part of a set).  A pillowsham is a decorative cover for a pillow, often used on beds to add style rather than for everyday sleeping and some shams placed over pillows for decorative effect are removed or placed at the back when someone is sleeping.  Pillowshams are much associated with intricate designs (embroidery, ruffles, textured fabric and worse) and usually have an opening at the back, often closed with buttons, a zipper, or an overlapping flap to hide the closure.  Sham (intended to deceive; false; act of fakery) is thought probably to have been a dialectal form of shame (reproach incurred or suffered; dishonour; ignominy; derision) from the Middle English schame, from the Old English sċamu, from Proto-Germanic skamō.  Thus, while interior decorators may have no shame, they certainly have shams.

Pillowsham is the generic term for these items (whether put over a pillow or cushion) and “cushionsham” is not part of the jargon; the terms pillowcase, pillowslip & pillowsham appear variously also as separate words and hyphenated.  The pillowsham is notorious for its use as a platform for kitsch and Adolf Hitler’s (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) mountain home (the Berghof in the Obersalzberg of the Bavarian Alps near Berchtesgaden, Bavaria) featured many, sent to him by his many female admirers.  He claimed not to approve of them but appreciated the gesture although they seem never to have appeared in photographs of the house’s principle rooms, banished it seems to places like the many surrounding buildings including the conservatory of Hans Wichenfeld (the chalet on which the Berghof based).

Hitler's study in the Berghof with only matched cushions (left) and the conservatory (centre & right) with some pillowshams (embroidered with swastikas and the initials A.H.).

In the US, Life magazine in October 1939 (a few weeks after the Nazis had invaded Poland) published a lush color feature focused on Hitler’s paintings and the Berghof, the piece a curious mix of what even then were called “human-interest stories”, political commentary and artistic & architectural criticism.  One heading :“Paintings by Adolf Hitler: The Statesman Longs to Be an Artist and Helps Design His Mountain Home” illustrates the flavor but this was a time before the most awful aspects of Nazi rule were understood and Life’s editors were well-aware a significant proportion of its readership were well disposed towards Hitler’s regime.  Still, there was some wry humor in the text, assessing the Berghof as possessing the qualities of a “…combination of modern and Bavarian chalet” styles, something “awkward but interesting” while the interiors, “…designed and decorated with Hitler’s active collaboration, are the comfortable kind of rooms a man likes, furnished in simple, semi-modern, sometimes dramatic style. The furnishings are in very good taste, fashioned of rich materials and fine woods by the best craftsmen in the Reich.”  Life seemed to be most taken with the main stairway leading up from the ground floor which was judged “a striking bit of modern architecture.”  Whether or not the editors were aware Hitler thought “modern architecture” suitable only for factories, warehouses and such isn’t clear.  They also had fun with what hung on the walls, noting: “Like other Nazi leaders, Hitler likes pictures of nudes and ruins” but anyway concluded that “in a more settled Germany, Adolf Hitler might have done quite well as an interior decorator.”  There was no comment on the Führer’s pillows and cushions.

Whatever Life’s views on him as potential interior decorator, decades later, his architect was prepared to note the dictator’s “beginner’s mistake” in the building’s design.  In Erinnerungen (Memories or Reminiscences) and published in English as Inside the Third Reich (1969)), Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) recalled:

“A huge picture window in the living room, famous for its size and the fact that it could be lowered, was Hitler s pride.  It offered a view of the Untersberg, Berchtesgaden, and Salzburg. However, Hitler had been inspired to situate his garage underneath this window; when the wind was unfavorable, a strong smell of gasoline penetrated into the living room.  All in all, this was a ground plan that would have been graded D by any professor at an institute of technology. On the other hand, these very clumsinesses gave the Berghof a strongly personal note. The place was still geared to the simple activities of a former weekend cottage, merely expanded to vast proportions.”

He commented also on the pillowshams: “The furniture was bogus old- German peasant style and gave the house a comfortable petit-bourgeois look.  A brass canary cage, a cactus, and a rubber plant intensified this impression.  There were swastikas on knickknacks and pillows embroidered by admiring women, combined with, say, a rising sun or a vow of "eternal loyalty."  Hitler commented to me with some embarrassment: "I know these are not beautiful things, but many of them are presents.  I shouldn't like to part with them."

Life’s assessment of Hitler’s alternative career path as an interior decorator wasn’t the first time the observation had been made of a head of state & government.  Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924; US president 1913-1921) had gone to the Paris Peace Conference (1919) determined above all to secure the agreement of all parties to the creation of the League of Nations (1920-1946) and this he pursued with a vigour not matched by other leaders present, all of who had a focus on the immediate needs of their own countries.  Wilson, knowing political pressure on him was rising in the US and whose health had long been fragile, found the negotiations exhausting and doctors in recent years have concluded he likely suffered several small strokes while in Paris, a prelude to the major event later in the year which substantially would incapacity him for the remainder of his presidency.

Wilson’s personal physician (Cary Grayson (1878–1938) had accompanied him to the conference and in his diary noted one manifestation of what he described as “the strain” when, after hours of “intense discussion” on matters ranging from tiresome US senators to the treaty terms sought by the delegation from Japan to the arraignment of the former Kaiser Wilhelm II (1859–1941; German Emperor & King of Prussia 1888-1918), the president suddenly made an announcement.

“I don’t like the way the colors of this furniture fight each other. The greens and the reds are all mixed up here and there is no harmony.  Here is a big purple, high-backed covered chair, which is like the Purple Cow, strayed off to itself, and it is placed where the light shines on it too brightly.  If you will give me a lift, we will move this next to the wall where the light from the window will give it a subdued effect.  And here are two chairs, one green and the other red.  This will never do.  Let’s put the greens all together and the reds together.”  He went on to relate to his doctor how at the “Council of Four” (the leaders of France, Italy, the US & UK) meeting how “…each delegation walked like schoolchildren each day to its respective corner.  Now, with the furniture regrouped, he said each country would sit according to its color.”  Dr Grayson attributed the “aberrant behaviour” to “stress” and prescribed only going for a drive in an automobile, remarking to his patient: “I think if you ever want a job after leaving the presidency you would make a great success as an interior decorator.”  Wilson concurred, answering: “I don’t mean to throw bouquets at myself but I do think that I have made a success of the arrangement of the furniture.”

Woodrow Wilson’s bedroom in the Washington DC townhouse where he lived after leaving office.

Mrs Wilson fitted-out the bedroom on S Street, Kalorama almost to exactly replicate the one he’d used at the White House, down to the footrests, pillows and reading lights.  Mrs Wilson commissioned the bed to be exactly the imposing dimensions (8 feet, 6 inches x 6 feet, 6 inches (2590 x 1981 mm)) of the White House’s Lincoln Bed; built in Grand Rapids, Michigan in a colonial revival style, it's made of mahogany.  After his stroke in October, 1919, Wilson substantially was confined to his bed and it was in this bed he died on 3 February, 1924, aged 67.  He was buried at the Washington National Cathedral, the only US president whose body lies in the national capital.

The "furniture incident" is now assessed in the light of the knowledge of the president’s previous neurological issues and analysts since have compared the behaviour to that of the anorexic who takes control of their diet because it is one thing they are able completely and immediately to control, in contrast to other aspects of their life which they have come to believe they are unable to influence and neurologists who have written on the subject do seem to agree a stroke would likely have induced the episode.  In October 1919, shortly after returning to the US, Wilson suffered a major stroke, us stroke, leaving him paralyzed on his left side, and with only partial vision in the right eye.  Despite this, he continued in office until his term expired in 1921 though he was physically isolated and few were able to see him except his wife and doctor, a situation not greatly different from the situation in 1953 when Winston Churchill’s (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) son-in-law for months acted as something of a prime-ministerial proxy in the aftermath of Churchill’s massive stroke.  The ad-hoc apparatus constructed by Mrs Wilson and Dr Grayson had led some claim she was, in effect, the nation’s “first female president” and while that’s drawing a long bow, it was something discussed in 2024 when Joe Biden’s (b 1942; US president 2021-2025) descent into senility was a topic of interest.  The roles played by of Dr Grayson, Lord Moran (Charles Wilson, 1882-1977, personal physician to prime minister Winston Churchill) and Ross McIntire (1889–1959; personal physician to Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, US president 1933-1945)) remain controversial and reflect the sometimes conflicting duality of responsibility a physician has (1) to their patient and (2) their patient’s position as head of government.

Lindsay Lohan themed pillows are available.

“Pillow dictionary” was a synonym of “sleeping dictionary” (a sexual partner who also serves as a native informant or language teacher for an outsider).  It was thus something of a euphemism for a tutor in a foreign language who, as is implied, gives “tuition in bed”; the term said (as might be expected) to be used more commonly used by men of women than vice versa.  Those who practice hypnopaedic techniques use a different kind of dictionary.  Hypnopedia (or hypnopædia) was a form of “sleep-learning (or sleep-teaching) and was an attempt to convey information to a sleeping person, typically by playing a sound recording to them while they sleep.  Because the role of sleep in memory consolidation had come to be understood, the hypothesis of hypnopedia was not unreasonable but it has been wholly discredited.

The “pillow fight” (a form of domestic mock-combat fought using pillows as weapons) is presumably a most ancient practice but the first known reference is from 1837.  Pillows being much associated with beds, in idiomatic use, the pillow naturally features in phrases associated with sex.  The slang “pillow talk” (relaxed, intimate conversation between a couple in bed) is doubtlessly more ancient still but the term may not have been used prior to 1939 and it now carries the implication of some indiscrete disclosure, often in the context of politics or espionage).  A “pillow word” was a calque of the Japanese 枕詞 (makurakotoba) and described the use in Waka (和歌) (Japanese poem) of a poetic device in which a certain introductory phrase is commonly used to allude to something else.

Jeremy Thorpe arriving at Minehead Magistrates Court, 4 December 1978, for the committal proceedings against him and three others on charges of conspiring to murder former male model Norman Scott.  Ultimately Mr Thorpe was acquitted of all charges.  The car is a Rover 3500S.  3500S was the original designation of the 3500s sold during the model's abortive foray into the US market but elsewhere was used to designate the version offered with a four-speed manual transmission (1971-1977), the original introduced in 1968 exclusively in automatic form.

A “pillow queen” was a woman concerned only with her own gratification during sex and interestingly, the equivalent creature among lesbians was apparently more often a “pillow princess”, both classified as “takers” rather than “givers”, the synonyms in the vernacular including “stone”, “rock”, “slate”, “cold fish”, “dead fish” and “starfish”.  The more evocative phrase “pillow-biter” seems first to have entered general use after it was used by Norman Scott (b 1940) when giving evidence in the 1979 trial of Jeremy Thorpe (1929–2014; leader of the UK Liberal Party 1967-1976), the witness describing the way he handled his unwilling participation as the alleged victim of Mr Thorpe committing upon him what in some jurisdictions used to be called “the abominable crime of buggery”: “I just bit the pillow, I tried not to scream because I was frightened of waking Mrs Thorpe.”  A pillow-biter is thus (in certain circles of the LGBTQQIAAOP communities) a “gay man who engages in passive anal sex”; a “bottom”, as opposed to Mr Thorpe who allegedly was a “top”.

Pillowbook describes a journal-type book kept to record sexual dreams and escapades, most intended only for the eyes of the writer.  It was a specific form of a quite commonplace book which appears to have originated in Japan as a compilation of notes & jottings, those periodic or occasional writings that might go into an extended diary.  The most famous example (and among the earliest extant) was the The Pillow Book (枕草子) (Makura no Sōshi) (Notes of the Pillow), a volume of observations and musings recorded by Sei Shōnagon (清少納言), circa 966–circa 1020, a lady of the court to Fujiwara no Teishi (藤原 定子) 977–1001 (known also as Sadako), an empress consort of the Japanese Emperor Ichijō (一条天皇) (Ichijō-tennō), 980–1011; 66^th emperor of Japan, 986-1011; the last entries in the book were made in the year 1002.  According to Japanese legend, the origin of the pillow book lies in a bundle of unused notebooks being brought to the empress who began musing on what should be done with them.  The lady-in-waiting suggested she should have them and make them into a pillow (which meant putting them into the drawers of “a wooden pillow” (a part of the Japanese sleeping apparatus).  Subsequently, she filled the notebooks with random facts, lists and discursive jottings and from this tradition came the traditional Japanese genre zuihitsu (随筆) (occasional writings) which exists still, describing a form of literature consisting of loosely connected personal essays and fragmentary ideas typically influenced by the author's surroundings and daily interactions with them.

1972 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight Regency brochure.

“Loose pillow” upholstery had been in furniture for a while, implemented usually as detachable cushions designed to be removed for cleaning but it was Oldsmobile which first used the concept for automobiles.  Since the mid 1960s “luxury” versions (as opposed to mere “deluxe” editions which often included just a bundle of options anyway available on a “standard” car at a discount compared with ordering them individually) had begun to appear and this would evolve into what came to be called “the great Brougham era”.  That term seems to have been invented by Curbside Classic, a curated website which is a gallimaufry of interesting content, built around the theme of once-familiar and often everyday vehicles which are now a rare sight until discovered by Curbside Classic’s contributors (who self-style as "curbivores"), parked next to some curb.  These are the often the machines neglected by automotive historians and collectors who prefer things which are fast, lovely and rare.  According to Curbside Classic, the “great brougham era” began in 1965 with the release of the LTD option for the mass-market Ford Galaxie and that approach was nothing new because even the Galaxie name had in 1959 been coined for a "luxury" version of the Fairlane 500, a trick the US industry had been using for some time.

1972 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight Regency brochure.  When the tufted, pillowed option was chosen in red velour, it was known casually as "mid-priced bordello chic".

Once, Detroit’s most elaborate interiors had been restricted to the top-of the range models (Cadillac, Lincoln & Imperial) but when Oldsmobile in introduced the “Regency” option for their Ninety-Eight range, it was quite a jump in middle-class opulence and it must have been galling for Cadillac: Oldsmobile, two notches down the GM pecking list from Cadillac had in one stroke out-done Cadillac’s interiors with not just tufted velour upholstery but the novelty also of the welcoming loose pillow style.  Cadillac had nothing like it but scrambled to respond, offering in 1973 the d'Elegance package, a US$750 option which included pillow-style velour seating as well as a more plush carpeting and bundled a few of the otherwise optional features.

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman rear compartment in blue velour with optional pillows.  The pillows (which many would have described as "cushions") were also available on Talismans trimmed in leather.  The world should have more leather pillows but, unfortunately, while "Cadillac pillows" are available, they come only in fabric.  The so-called "holy grail" among Talisman collectors is a 1974 model in blue leather which was listed as a factory option but no such machine has ever been sighted and Cadillac's production records don't provide a color breakdown.  It's thought likely none were ever built.

However, all the d'Elegance bling did was match what others were doing and there was still the corporate memory of the Cadillac mystique, a hankering for the time when Cadillac had been the “standard of the world”, a reputation built in the 1930s on basic engineering such as almost unique sixteen cylinder engines and maintained a generation later with cars such as the Eldorado Brougham, times when the name stood for something truly impressive.  By 1974 the world had changed and such extravagances were no longer possible but what could still be done was to add more gingerbread and for 1974, Cadillac announced the Talisman package.  Much more expensive than the d'Elegance and consequently more exclusive, the Talisman included an extended centre console, the front section housing an illumined writing tablet, the rear a storage compartment.  This had been done before but never with this opulence although it had the effect of reducing the huge car, a size which historically been a six-seater, into something strictly for four.  The interior was available in four colors in "Medici" crushed velour at US$1800 or in two shades in leather at US$2450 at a time when the Chevrolet Vega, GM’s entry-level automobile of the era cost US$2087.  The Talisman additionally gained matching deep-pile interior carpeting and floor-mats, a fully padded elk grain vinyl roof, exterior badge identifications, a stand-up, full-color wreath and crest hood ornament and unique wheel-covers.  For those who needed more, for an additional US$85, a matching pillow and robe was available although the robe unfortunately wasn't cut in leather.  Optioned with the leather package, a 1974 Cadillac Talisman cost about US$13,200, matching what the company charged for the even bigger Fleetwood Seventy-Five limousines.  The additional gingerbread wasn’t all that expensive to produce; what Cadillac was selling was exclusivity and the market responded, 1898 Talismans coming off the production line that year, all sold at a most impressive profit.  Most prized today are the relative handful trimmed in leather, the urban legend being all were in medium saddle with none in the dark blue which was listed on the option list.  If any were sold with the blue leather, none appear now to exist and Cadillac’s records don’t record the breakdown.

1974 Imperial LeBaron four-door hardtop (left) in chestnut leather (though not actually “fine Corinthian leather” which was exclusive to the Cordoba (1975-1983)), Imperial's advertising copy noted of the brochure’s photograph: “...while the passenger restraint system with starter interlock is not shown, it is standard on all Imperials.”  The marketing types didn't like seat-belts messing up their photos.  Fashions change and the 1997 Buick Park Avenue (right) was the last of the "pillowed cars".

The loose pillow style certainly caught on although the name was a little misleading because the pillows were loose only in the sense of moving a little to accommodate the frames sitting on them and were not removable.  In the showroom they looked good and attracted many buyers but were noted also for the propensity to trap crumbs, small coins and the other detritus of life in the many folds, tufts and crevasses.  The fad lasted for more than a generation and Detroit’s last fling of the pillow was the 1997 Buick Park Avenue.

Beret

Beret (pronounced buh-rey)

A soft, visor-less cap, made usually of a soft wool material or felt, styled with a close-fitting headband and a wide, round top, often with a tab at the center.

1827: From the French béret (round, flat, woolen cap), from the dialectal form béarn, from the Occitan (Gascon) & Old Provençal berret (cap), from the Medieval Latin birrettum (a flat woollen cap that was worn by peasants), a diminutive of the Late Latin birrus (a large hooded cloak), a word perhaps of Gaulish origin but the ultimate root probably was the Proto-Celtic birros (short) and related to the Welsh byr and the Middle Irish berr.  The similar clerical variation is called a biretta and in Spanish, the spelling is boina.  Some military units are associated with the color of their berets (green berets; blue berets et al).  Beret is a noun; the noun plural is berets,

A rendering of the famous photograph of Che Guevara (1928–1967) at the La Coubre memorial service by Alberto Korda (1928-2001), 5 March 1960.

Long culturally associated with France, it may vary in popularity as a fashion piece but it’s never gone away, examples found by archaeologists in bronze age tombs and berets are common in art since Antiquity, notably especially in European sculpture from the twelfth century.  The floppiness certainly varied, apparently in something close to a direct relationship with size, suggesting all were made, as they appeared, from felt or some similar material with the same properties.  Felt was actually one of the oldest forms of processed cloth, a serendipitous creation by the shepherds who, for warmth and comfort, filled their shoes with tufts of wool; as they walked and worked, they sweated and felt was made.  Berets were adopted first by Basque peasants, then royalty, then the military and then artists but in the twentieth century, picked up an anti-establishment association, influenced by French existentialists and the famous photograph of Che Guevara.

Lindsay Lohan in beret, promotional image for Saturday Night Live, episode 37-16, March 2012.

The military, the counterculture and the fashionistas have shared the once humble cap since.  One aspect of it however proved as vulnerable as any object of mass-manufacture to the arithmetic of unit-labour costs and world trade.  In France, early in the post-war years, there had been fifteen beret factories in the district of Oloron-Sainte-Marie in the Pyrénées where most French berets were made yet by the turn of the century there was but one and it catered for only for the upper reaches of the market, catering for those few who simply didn’t wear clothes made east of Suez and Laulhère is the last remaining historic beret-maker still operating in France.  Dating from 1840 when the Laulhère family opened its first factory, such was the struggle to survive the national textile industry crisis as well as the erosion of its market by low-priced products of dubious quality that in 2013 the decision was taken by Laulhère finally to end production.  However, just as Charles de Gaulle (1890-1970; President of France 1959-1969) had une certain idée de la France, upon hearing the news of the closure, the industry decided there was une certaine idée de la mode française and a rescue package was organized by the Gascon based Cargo Group and its sister company, Blancq-Olibet.  In a press release issued almost immediately after the new broke, Cargo Group confirmed they had acted because the beret was “…such an important part of our history and patrimoine (cultural heritage).  Clearly, the beret is as important to the French as the baguette.  Cargo’s business model was simultaneously to use Laulhère’s expertise and skilled workforce to introduce new, more modern lines but maintain the availability of the traditional styles and it appears to have been successful, the classic berets still on sale.  It’s one of those dependable industry staples which can every year be promoted by a label, a magazine or a stylist as one of the trends to watch in the next season.  Unlike something like the polka-dot which tends to be cyclical with sometimes a decade between spikes, the classic, timeless beret is always there, running the gamut from revolutionary chic to French-girl accessory, something able to be worn in all four seasons and the ultimate mix & match fall-back; stripes, spots and vivid or dark solids all available.

Bridget Bardot (b 1934) in beret.

The beret certainly has a long history, floppy head coverings appearing in archaeological record of the Early Bronze Age (circa 3300-2000 BC) and they have remained a feature in European clothing ever since.  At least partially, this was technological determinism in action: felt was the material constantly used and, being non-woven, it is one of the easiest materials to produce without complex machinery or skills.  Felt is made by matting and pressing wet natural fibres (classically wool) and its is famously versatile and durable, peasants favouring it for the linings of jackets, footwear and of course hats, as valued for its warmth as its capacity to resist moisture.  By the seventeenth century, black felt hats (less a fashion choice than it simply being the most simple colour to produce) were virtually an item or uniform among the working class, farmers and artisans although it wasn’t until 1827 the French coined béret, from the Medieval Latin birretum (a flat woollen cap that was worn by peasants).

Bridget Bardot and Andre Bourvil (1917-1970) in Le Trou Normand (Crazy for Love, 1952); it was her first feature film.

This being pre-EEC (European Economic Community (1957), the predecessor of the European Union (1993)) Europe, the beret of course became a political statement and as tensions grew in the mid-nineteenth century between France & Spain, the fashion lines were drawn: French berets were blue and Spanish red although in a gesture which might have pleased the Marxists, the working class everywhere continue to wear black although they were drawn by the price rather than international solidarity (and that too vindicates Marxist theory).  However, it’s from the early twentieth century that historians of fashion trace the ascent of the black beret as an essentially classless chic accessory which could be worn by men & women alike although such are the memories of Bridget Bardot (b 1934 and Catherine Deneuve (b 1943) that about the only men remembered for their berets are the revolutionaries, Che Guevara, the Black Panthers and such.  One political aspect of the beret definitely is a myth: it’s not true the Nazis banned the hat during the occupation of France (1940-1944).  The origin of that tale seems to lie in the publication in the 1970s of a number of propaganda suggestions by the SOE (the Special Operations Executive, the UK governments department of “dirty tricks”), one of which was to spread in France the story the Germans were going to “ban the beret”.  There’s no evidence the plan was ever used although the SOE were active in the disinformation business.

Camisole

Camisole (pronounced kam-uh-sohl)

(1) A short garment worn underneath a sheer bodice to conceal the underwear; also called cami (pronounced kam-ee).

(2) A woman's dressing jacket or short negligée.

(3) A sleeved jacket or jersey once worn by men (now obsolete but occasionally revived as a catwalk novelty).

(4) As camisole de force, a straitjacket with long sleeves (mostly historic references).

1816: From the French and the Old Occitan (also called Old Provençal) camisola, the construct being camis(a) + -ola; the Late Latin camīsa (shirt) was also the source of chemise and the Latin suffix -ola was added to a noun to form a (sometimes pejorative) diminutive of that noun; a variant was the Late Latin camisia (shirt or nightgown).  The thread was well-known in romance languages, the Old Portuguese camisa (shirt) was from the Late Latin camisia (shirt), from Transalpine Gaulish (of Germanic origin) from the Proto-Germanic hamiþiją (clothes, shirt, skirt), from the primitive Indo-European ḱam- (cover, clothes).  The modern use meaning a “sleeveless undergarment for women” dates from circa 1900 but for most of the late nineteen the century it generally meant "straitjacket” (a restraint for lunatics). Camisole is a noun & verb and camisoled is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is camisoles.

Camisole de force: The straitjacket

Crooked Hillary Clinton in Camisole de force (digitally altered photo).

Although ad-hoc wearable physical restraints had existed long before, the camisole de force (straitjacket) was invented circa 1772 by Irish doctor David MacBride (1726-1778), the more romantic story of it being a creation of a Monsieur Guilleret, a tapestry maker at Bicêtre Hospital, apparently a myth.  The basic concept endures to this day although they are now less used, having largely been supplanted by camisoles chimiques (or neuroleptics (a class of psychotropic drugs used to treat psychosis)).  The only fundamental change in design is that modern camisoles de force are made with sleeves, the early types restraining the arms directly under the fabric were found to be most uncomfortable.

Camisole de force on the catwalk: Straitjacket chic by Gucci and others.

Catwalks were once a place where fashion existed for fashion's sake and while there could be social or political implications in what was worn, the messaging usually had to be some sort of overt threat to the establishment for much of a protest to be raised.  However, we live now in more sensitive times and designers have to be aware of factors as diverse as religion, ethnicity, skin color, sexual orientation, age, body mass index (BMI) and the seemingly all-encompassing "cultural appropriation".  Gucci recently had to withdraw from sale a jumper (US$890, Stg£715) after critics found it too reminiscent of blackface minstrels, the connection being the built-in half-balaclava with knitted plump red lips.  That fixed, the fashion house was then accused of cultural appropriation because one of their headpieces (US$790, Stg£635) too closely resembled a Sikh turban.   To clarify the extent of the sin, the US-based Sikh Coalition issued a statement: "The Sikh turban is not just a fashion accessory, but it's also a sacred religious article of faith."

Madness (an now unfashionable word banned in polite company; the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) recommending "mental disorder" or "psychiatric disorder") may also be on fashion's banned list after Ayesha Tan-Jones (b 1993, who is non-binary and uses they/them pronouns) staged a non-oral, verbal protest while on the catwalk (they might prefer the less exploitative "runway") in the Gucci show at Milan Fashion Week 2019.  Tan-Jones and other models were dressed in white jumpsuits for the show (and it can't be long before even the use of white is declared "problematic"), some of which used the motif of the straitjacket.  On their hands, Tan-Jones had written the words "Mental health is not fashion", clearly not accepting Gucci's rationale the designs were meant to represent "how through fashion, power is exercised over life, to eliminate self-expression".  That has some linguistic tradition because women have in the past not infrequently described demands to be fashionable as "a straitjacket" but Tan-Jones presumably would prefer the notion remain a simile rather than a publicity stunt.

Ayesha Tan-Jones on the catwalk, Milan Fashion Week, September 2019. 

After the show, Tan-Jones issued their own statement, writing "Straitjackets are a symbol of a cruel time in medicine when mental illness was not understood, and people's rights and liberties were taken away from them, while they were abused and tortured in the institution.  It is in bad taste for Gucci to use the imagery of straitjackets and outfits alluding to mental patients, while being rolled out on a conveyor belt as if a piece of factory meat."  That was followed up with another post which added they, along with some of the other models in the show, were donating to mental health charities a portion (% not mentioned) of the modeling fees paid by Gucci.  "Many of the other Gucci models who were in the show felt just as strongly as I did about this depiction of straitjackets, and without their support I would not have had the courage to walk out and peacefully protest" they said.  In response, the fashion house didn't address the substantive issued raised but did confirm straitjacket chic was just "...a statement for the fashion show and will not be sold", adding the line was intended as "...an antidote to the colourful designs in the rest of the Spring/Summer 2020 show".

Lindsay Lohan in camisole.

Chicane

Chicane (pronounced shi-keyn or chi-keyn)

(1) In bridge, a hand without trumps.

(2) In motor sport, one bend or a short section of sharp bends formed either by the design of the track or by barriers placed on the circuit.

(3) To quibble over; cavil at (now rare, probably extinct).

(4) A less common word for chicanery (deception; trickery); to use chicanery, tricks or subterfuge (rare).

1665-1675: A borrowing from the French chicane, from chicaner (to quibble (of obscure origin)), from the Middle French chicaner, from the Middle Low German schicken & schikken (to arrange), ultimately from the Proto-Germanic skikkijaną, origin of modern French chic.  The word has been used in English in various senses, including as an "act of chicanery” (the art of gaining advantage by using evasions or cheating tricks) from the 1670s.  The now most familiar sense, "obstacles on a roadway" didn’t emerge until 1955 (quickly spreading to motor-racing circuits) although it had been a technical term in bridge design since the 1880s.  All the English forms are from the archaic verb chicane (to trick), first noted in the 1660s, from the sixteenth century French chicane (trickery) from chicaner (to pettifog, to quibble).  Chicane, chicanery & chicaner are nouns, chicanerous is an adjective and chicaned & chicaning are verbs; the noun plural is chicanes.

Chicanery & low skullduggery: The film Mean Girls (2004) was based on Rosalind Wiseman's (b 1969) book Queen Bees and Wannabes: Helping Your Daughter Survive Cliques, Gossip, Boyfriends, and Other Realities of Adolescence (2002) which explored the interaction of the shifting social cliques formed by school girls.

Of the chicanery of the FIA

The FIA (Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (International Automobile Federation)) has since 1904 been involved in the organisation and regulation of motor-racing.  The FIA used to be mostly harmless but in recent decades has degenerated into about the most dopey regulatory body in sport, making the men of World Rugby’s (the old International Rugby Board (IRB)) standing Laws Committee look like chaps of rare skill and talent.  For a long time the FIA have approved not at all of any interesting form of motor-racing, their response always to make things slower and more processional, a curious approach in a sport about speed.  Although most obsessed with publishing volumes of complex regulations which require the employment of FIA officials to administer, the FIA also has an almost fetishistic relationship with chicanes.  A chicane is essentially an obstruction which requires a racing car to slow to negotiate.  While curves, climbs and corners have always been part of just about any form of motor-racing, the FIA seems never convinced there are enough.  It’s suspected if the FIA had their way, there would be no straights on motor-racing circuits, just corners.

Le Mans, before and after.

Mulsanne Straight (Ligne Droite des Hunaudières in French) at Circuit de la Sarthe where the annual Twenty-Four Hours of Le Mans (24 Heures du Mans) is run was once 3.7 miles (6 km) in length.  It was one of the sport’s great institutions, the speeds attained a benchmark of progress in engineering and aerodynamics.

Year	Car	Config	CI	CM3	MPH	KM/H
1961	Maserati Tipo 63	V12	183	3.0	173.6	279.4
1962	Ferrari 330 TRI/LM	V12	244	4.0	182.9	294.3
1963	Ferrari 330 TRI/LM	V12	244	4.0	187.2	301.3
1964	Ferrari 330 P	V12	244	4.0	192.2	309.3
1965	Ford GT40 Mk1	V8	289	4.7	192.2	309.3
1966	Ford GT40 MkII	V8	427	7.0	201.5	324.3
1967	Ford GT40 MkIV	V8	427	7.0	212.6	342.1
1968	Porsche 908	F8	244	3.0	191.0	307.4
1969	Porsche 917 LH	F12	275	4.5	197.8	318.3
1970	Porsche 917 L	F12	275	4.5	205.2	330.2
1971	Porsche 917 K	F12	298	4.9	224.4	361.1
1972	Matra-Simca MS670	V12	183	3.0	205.8	331.2
1973	Ferrari 312 PB-73	F12	183	3.0	210.8	339.2
1974	Matra-Simca MS670C	F12	183	3.0	207.1	333.3
1975	Gulf-Mirage GR8	V8	183	3.0	193.4	311.2
1976	Renault-Alpine A442	V6	122	2.0	208.9	336.2
1977	Renault-Alpine A442	V6	122	2.0	218.2	351.2
1978	Renault-Alpine A442B	V6	122	2.0	227.5	366.1
1979	Porsche 936	F6	131	2.1	218.8	352.1
1980	WM P79	V6	165	2.7	217.6	350.2
1981	Porsche 936	F6	159	2.6	220.7	355.2
1982	Porsche 956	F6	159	2.6	220.1	354.2
1983	Porsche 956	F6	159	2.6	230.0	370.1
1984	WM P83B	V6	165	2.7	225.1	362.3
1985	Porsche 956B	F6	159	2.6	230.6	371.1
1986	Porsche 962C	F6	159	2.6	231.9	373.2
1987	WM P87	V6	165	2.7	236.2	380.1
1988	WM P88	V6	165	2.7	251.1	404.1
1989	Sauber Mercedes C9	V8	303	5.0	248.0	399.1
1990	Nissan R90CP	V8	214	3.5	226.9	365.2

These achievements impressed most but not the FIA which, for reasons of their own, decided to sabotage things, initially by reducing the maximum engine capacity in the premier class, firstly from seven litres to five and later to three.  When this didn’t prove sufficient to nobble the engineers, they insisted two chicanes be added to Mulsanne Straight.  They were installed in 1990 and proved effective, no car since has, in the race, come within 20 mph (32 km/h) of the marks set in the late 1980s and speeds in excess of 200 mph (320 km/h) are now rare.  The FIA has emasculated other circuits too; in 1987 a chicane was added to Conrod Straight at Mount Panorama, Bathurst in Australia.  Quite why the FIA remains involved in motor-racing isn’t clear when it’s apparent they'd be better suited to the administration of something like competitive basket-weaving.