Doily

Doily (pronounced doi-lee)

(1) A small ornamental mat, historically in embroidery or of lace (the style later emulated in plastic or paper), placed under plates, vases etc.  In addition to any decorative value, their function is to protect surfaces (such as timber) from spills and scratches.

(2) A small napkin, intended to be used for the dessert course (archaic).

(3) A visually similar circular piece of lace, worn as a head-covering by some Jewish & Christian women.

(4) A wool fabric (obsolete).

Circa 1714:  The small, decorative mats were named after the linen drapery on London’s Strand, run by the Doily family in the late seventeenth century.  They were doubtless one of many products offered in the shop (and probably a minor line) but for whatever reason they were the one which picked up the name and remain admired by some while dismissed by others as kitsch.  Doily is a noun (and historically an adjective); the noun plural is doilies.

Traditionally, most doilies were circular in shape and white or beige but many which were bleached white became beige or grey after repeated launderings.  Hotels and cafés often use the paper versions atop plates on which sandwiches, slices of cake and such are served,  This isn't always ideal because paper chaff (from stamping the holes) sometimes remains partially attached (al la the "hanging chads" made infamous in the Florida vote-count during the 2000 US presidential election), only to become detached and end up in the food.      

The alternative spellings were (and in some cases still are) doiley, doilie, doyly, or doyley, sometimes used deliberately as trade-names.  Various sources claim the family name of those running the eponymous London linen drapery was Doily or Doyly but there’s evidence to suggest it really was Doily, one example from Eustace Budgell (1686–1737), an English politician & writer who was a cousin of Joseph Addison (1672–1719), poet, playwright, essayist and fellow parliamentarian, remembered as the co-founder of The Spectator (1711-1712) magazine.  Budgell wrote dozens of pieces for the magazine (unrelated to the current The Spectator published since 1828 which borrowed the name) and in 1712 one (capitalized as originally printed) recorded:

“The famous Doily is still in everyone’s Memory, who raised a Fortune by finding out Materials for such Stuffs as might at once be cheap and genteel”.

That was a reference to the summer-weight woolen clothing which was much favored at the time because it was comfortable, inexpensive and stylish, a combination of virtues which sometimes still eludes manufacturers of many products.  Doily was attached as an adjective to the distinctive garments in the 1780s as “doily suit” & “doily stuffs” and it was only in 1711 the term was picked-up for the small ornamental napkins used at formal dinners when dessert was served.  The “doily-napkins” were literally sold as such (there were many others but the term became generic) and were available in a variety of forms, some quite elaborate and because these resembled the small mats the shop also sold, they came to lend their name to the style, regardless of whether or not purchased from Mr Doily’s shop.  The doilies in their familiar modern form seem first to have been so described in 1714 although it may be they’d been on sale for many years. 

Doilyed-up: Lindsay Lohan in doily-themed top over pink bikini, Mykonos, Greece, August 2014.

Addison is remembered for many reasons, one of which was his once widely performed play Cato (1712) which, based on the final days of Marcus Porcius Cato Uticensis (known variously in history as “Cato the Younger” & “Cato of Utica”), a conservative Roman senator in the late Republic who died by his own hand, explored issues such as the conflict between individual liberty and the powers of the state.  The work suited the zeitgeist of pre-revolution America and many of its lines became phrases the revolutionaries would make famous in the War of Independence (1775-1783).  Cato enjoyed a macabre coda when Budgell, beset with problems, took his own life by throwing himself into the Thames, his suicide note reading: “What Cato did, and Addison approved, cannot be wrong.”

Because plates come in different shapes, so do doilies and there’s no inherent limitation in design although at some point, a construction ceases to be a doily and becomes a tablecloth.

Visually, doilies are strikingly similar to the head-coverings used in a number of Jewish traditions which some Christian women wear in accordance with scriptural dictate:

1 Corinthians 11:1-13: King James Version (KJV 1611)

1 Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ.

2 Now I praise you, brethren, that ye remember me in all things, and keep the ordinances, as I delivered them to you.

3 But I would have you know, that the head of every man is Christ; and the head of the woman is the man; and the head of Christ is God.

4 Every man praying or prophesying, having his head covered, dishonoureth his head.

5 But every woman that prayeth or prophesieth with her head uncovered dishonoureth her head: for that is even all one as if she were shaven.

6 For if the woman be not covered, let her also be shorn: but if it be a shame for a woman to be shorn or shaven, let her be covered.

7 For a man indeed ought not to cover his head, forasmuch as he is the image and glory of God: but the woman is the glory of the man.

8 For the man is not of the woman: but the woman of the man.

9 Neither was the man created for the woman; but the woman for the man.

10 For this cause ought the woman to have power on her head because of the angels.

11 Nevertheless neither is the man without the woman, neither the woman without the man, in the Lord.

12 For as the woman is of the man, even so is the man also by the woman; but all things of God.

13 Judge in yourselves: is it comely that a woman pray unto God uncovered?

It’s not one of biblical passages much approved by feminists and nor do they like 1 Corinthians 14:34–35: As in all the churches of the saints, women should be silent in the churches.  For they are not permitted to speak, but should be subordinate, as the law also says.  If there is anything they desire to know, let them ask their husbands at home.  For it is shameful for a woman to speak in church.

Designer colors are also available and because doilies are a popular thing with hobbyists, the available spectrum is close to limitless and some are variegated.

The origin of the surname Doily was Anglo-Norman, from d'Œuilly (Ouilly), the name of several places in Calvados in the Normandy region, from Old French oeil (eye) and Doiley, Doilie, Doyly & Doyley were all Englishized forms of d'Ouilly and its French variants.  In England, apart from the noted draper, the best known was Richard D'Oyly Carte (1844–1901), the theatrical impresario who for years produced the collaborative works of WS Gilbert (1836-1911) & composer Arthur Sullivan (1842-1900) which came to be known as “Savoy operas”, the name derived from Carte’s Savoy Theatre in which many were first performed.  The D’Oyly part of his name was a forename (he was christened Richard D’Oyly Carte) which he used because his father, Richard Carte (1808-1891), was already well-known in the theatrical business and “Dick Carte” presumably wasn’t thought appropriate but “D’Oyly Carte” anyway became cockney rhyming slang for “fart” and in informal use it was later joined by “doily dyke” a synonym of “lipstick lesbian”, the alliterative terms used to contrast a feminine lesbian with those not (described variously as "bull dykes", "butch lesbians", "heavy-duty lesbians" etc).  Except within certain sub-sets of the LGBTQQIAAOP community, both are now proscribed as microaggressions.  The rhyming slang may still be used.

"Japanese car doilies" (more correctly antimacassars & side-curtains) in Toyota Century V12s.

Apparently as culturally obligatory in Tokyo taxis as white gloves used to be for the drivers (though many still follow the tradition), the inevitably white partial seat covers are often referred to as “Japanese seat doilies” but technically, when used to protect the surfaces of chairs, they are antimacassars, the construct being anti- (from the Ancient Greek ἀντι- (anti-) (against, hostile to, contrasting with the norm, opposite of, reverse (also "like, reminiscent of")) +‎ macassar (an oil from the ylang ylang tree and once used to style the hair, the original sources of which were the jungles of the Dutch East Indies (modern-day Indonesia), the product shipped from the port of Macassar.

Fifty years of “continuity with change”: 1967 Toyota Century V8 (left) and 2017 Toyota Century V12 (right).

Produced over three generations (1967-1996; 1997-2017 & since 2018), the Toyota Century is the company’s flagship in the Japanese domestic market (JDM).  Although the Lexus marque was invented to rectify the perception of a “prestige deficit” in the RoW (rest of the world), models from the range were introduced in the home market only in 2005 and the Century has maintained its position at the top of the Toyota tree.  The first generation used a number of Toyota V8 engines which grew in capacity to reach an untypically large (for the JDM) 4.0 litres (245 cubic inch) but the most admired were the 1997-2017 cars (a few hundred of 9500-odd built exported) which used a 5.0 litre (305 cubic inch) V12 unique to the Century.  For political reasons, the factory under-rated the power output of the V12 but it was anyway designed and tuned for smoothness and silence, achieving both to an extent few have matched.  Like the memorable “suicide door” Lincolns of the 1960s, the Century’s external appearance changed little and although there were updates, it needed a trained eye to tell one from another and the 2023 cars still maintain a distinct resemblance to the 1967 original although for various reasons, since 2018 there’s been a reversion to eight-cylinder engines, a 5.0 litre version of the Lexus V8 fitted, augmented with electric motors.  Offered with a choice of leather or cloth interior trim, “Japanese seat doilies” are regularly seen in the Century.

2006 Toyota Century Royal (left) and the 2019 Toyota Century four-door cabriolet built for the Japanese Imperial Household (right).  

The Japanese Imperial Household in 2006 requested Toyota provide a fleet of cars for the royal family and four limousines and one hearse were constructed.  Based on the second generation Century (G50), the range was known as the Century Royal and received the special designation G51.  Following traditional English coach-building practice, the rear compartment was trimmed in a wool cloth while the front used leather and an unusual touch was the fitting of internal granite steps.  The factory released a number of details about the construction but were predictably vague about the “security measures” noting only they were an "integral" part of the design and it’s believed these included Kevlar & metal internal skins (as protection from gunfire or explosive devices) plus a multi-laminate, bullet-proof glass.  Another Century was added to the royal mews in 2019, this time a one-off four-door cabriolet parade car (both Toyota and the palace preferred "convertible").  Although of late heads of state have tended to avoid open-top motoring, while there’s a long Japanese tradition of assassinating politicians, during the last few hundred years emperors have been safe (the rumors about the death in 1912 dismissed by most historians) so the palace presumably thought this a calculated risk.  All the same, it’s doubtful a prime-minister will be invited to sit alongside while percolating through city streets, their faith in Japanese marksmanship unlikely to be as high as their belief His Majesty won't be the target.  It’s believed the ceremonial fleet of the royal mews is now made exclusively by Toyota, ending the use of foreign manufactured cars such as the Mercedes-Benz 770Ks (W07, 1930-1938) and a Rolls-Royce Corniche (1990), the latter the previous open-top parade vehicle.  When in use, the royal cars do not display number plates but are instead adorned with a gold-plated, stylized chrysanthemum, the symbol an allusion to the Chrysanthemum Throne (皇位, kōi (imperial seat)), the throne of the Emperor of Japan.  As far as is known, the cars in the royal mews are not fitted with “Japanese seat doilies”.

Peculiar

Peculiar (pronounced pi-kyool-yer)

(1) Something thought strange, queer, odd, eccentric, bizarre.

(2) Something uncommon or unusual.

(3) Distinctive in nature or character from others.

(4) Belonging characteristically to something.

(5) Belonging exclusively to some person, group, or thing.

(6) In astronomy, designating a star or galaxy with special properties that deviates from others of its spectral type or galaxy class.

(7) A property or privilege belonging exclusively or characteristically to a person.

(8) In the Church of England, a particular parish or church that is exempted from the jurisdiction of the ordinary or bishop in whose diocese it lies and is governed by another.

(9) In printing and typesetting, special characters not generally included in standard type fonts, as phonetic symbols, mathematical symbols etc (such as ±§¿).  Also called arbitraries.

1400-1450: From the late Middle English, from the Old French peculiaire and directly from the Latin pecūliāris (as one's own property), from pecūlium (private property (literally "property in cattle") a derivative of pecū (flock, farm animals) from pecus (cattle) (in Antiquity, the ownership of cattle was an important form of wealth).  The meaning “unusual” dates from circa 1600, a development of the earlier idiom “distinguished or special”.  The meaning "unusual, uncommon; odd" emerged by circa 1600, an evolution from the earlier "distinguished, special, particular, select" which was in use by at least the 1580s.  The euphemistic phrase "peculiar institution" (slavery; "peculiar" used here in the sense of "exclusive to the "slave states") dates from the 1830s when it was used in speeches by Southern politician John C Calhoun (1782-1850) and it was a standard part of the US political lexicon until abolition.  In ecclesiastical administration, peculiar was used in the sense of "distinct from the auspices of the diocese in which it's located".  Peculiar is a noun & adjective, peculiarize is a verb, peculiarity is a noun and peculiarly is an adverb; the noun plural is peculiars.

Photographers will use the natural environment to produce peculiar effects which can be striking: This is Lindsay Lohan straked by sunlight & shadow from a photo session by Ellen Von Unwerth (b 1954) for Vogue Italia, August 2010.  The caption “Ho fatto terribili sbagli dai quali però ho imparato molto.  Probabilmente per questo sono ancora viva” translates from the Italian as “I've made terrible mistakes, but I've learned a lot from them.  That's probably why I'm still alive.”

In the Church of England, a peculiar is an ecclesiastical district, parish, chapel or church which operates outside the jurisdiction of the bishop and archdeacon of the diocese in which they are situated. Most are Royal Peculiars subject to the direct jurisdiction of the monarch but some are those under another archbishop, bishop or dean.  The arrangement originated in Anglo-Saxon times and developed as a result of the relationship between the Norman and Plantagenet Kings and the English Church. King Henry VIII (1491–1547; King of England (and Ireland after 1541) 1509-1547) retained Royal Peculiars following the Reformation and the Ecclesiastical Licences Act (1533), as confirmed by the Act of Supremacy (1559), transferred to the sovereign the jurisdiction which previously been exercised by the pope.  Surprisingly, most peculiars survived the Reformation but, with the exception of Royal Peculiars, almost all were abolished during the nineteenth century by various acts of parliament.  Mostly harmless among Anglicans, the concept existed also in the Roman-Catholic Church where it caused a few difficulties, usually because of bolshie nuns in convents answerable to Rome and not the local bishop.  The bishops, used to obedience, even if grudging, enjoyed this not at all.

One archaic-sounding peculiarity in the sometimes intersecting world of geopolitics and diplomatic conventions is that on the Chrysanthemum Throne sits an emperor yet there is no Japanese empire.  Actually, despite the institution having a history stretching back millennia, no empires remain extant and some of the more recent (such as the Central African Empire (1976-1979)) have been dubious constructions.  Despite that, the Japanese head of state remains an emperor which seems strange but the reasons the title has endured are historical, linguistic & diplomatic.  The Japanese sovereign’s native title is 天皇 (Tennō (literally “Heavenly Sovereign” and best understood in the oft-used twentieth century phrase “Son of Heaven”).  When, in the mid 1800s, the Western powers first began their engagement with Japan, the diplomatic protocol specialists soon worked out there was in their languages no exact term which exactly encapsulated Tennō and because “king” historically was lower in status than “emperor”, that couldn’t be used because, the Japanese court regarding itself as equal to (in reality probably “superior to”) the ruling house in China, it would have implied a loss of face.  So, on the basis of the precedent of the Chinese 皇帝 (huángdì (Emperor), Tennō entered English (and other European languages) translated as “emperor”.  This solved most potential problems by placing the Japanese sovereign on the same level as the Chinese Emperor & Russian Tsar.

Cars of the Chrysanthemum Throne: Emperor Akihito (b 1933; Emperor of Japan 1989-2019) waving while leaving Tokyo's Imperial Palace in 2006 Toyota Century (left) and the 2019 Toyota Century four-door parade cabriolet (right).  Although in the West, Toyota in 1989 created the Lexus brand for the upper middle class (and hopefully above), the royal household has for years been supplied with Toyotas, some of them with bespoke coachwork and interior appointments although mechanical components come from the Toyota/Lexus parts bin.  The four-door cabriolet replaced a 1990 Rolls-Royce Corniche DHC (drophead coupé) which, having only two doors made less easy an elegant ingress or egress.

As things turned out, the linguistic pragmatism turned out to be predictive because during the Meiji period (1868-1912), Japan emerged as a modern imperial power, with colonies in Taiwan, Korea and other places.  After World War II (1939-1945), the empire was dissolved but the imperial institution was retained, a fudge the Allied powers tacitly had conceded as an alternative to insisting on the “unconditional surrender” the Potsdam Declaration (26 July, 1945) had demanded.  Tennō thus remained the head of state’s title and in English it has continued to be rendered as “Emperor”, a nod more to historical continuity than diplomatic courtesy.  In a practical sense, this represented no obvious challenge because being styled “The Emperor” was geographically vague, unlike the king in the UK who obviously ceased to be called “Emperor of India” after the Raj was dissolved with the granting of Indian independence in 1947.  The peculiar anomaly of an emperor without an empire remains peculiar to Japan.

Peculiar has a range of meanings.  One is the sense of something “uniquely peculiar to” meaning an attribute or something else shared with no other and sometimes things one thought peculiar to one thing or another are proved not so unique.  Saturn’s lovely rings were once thought peculiar to that planet but exploration and advances in observational technology meant that by the late twentieth century it could be revealed Jupiter, Uranus & Neptune all had ring systems, albeit more modest than those of Saturn but they were there.  Non-realistic art has often for its impact depended on a depiction of the peculiar: blue trees, flying dogs and green people once all enough to shock.  This too can change.  Once, a painting of a black swan would have seemed peculiar because, as the Roman saying went rara avis in terris nigroque simillima cygno (a bird as rare upon the earth as a black swan).  The accepted fact was that all swans were white.  However, late in the seventeenth century, Dutch explorers visiting what is now the coast of Western Australia became the first Europeans to see black swans and event subsequently picked up in philosophy as the “black swan moment”, referencing the implications of an accepted orthodoxy of impossibility being disproven, later developed into the “black swan logical fallacy” which became a term used when identifying falsification.

However, the two meanings can co-exist in the one sentence such as: (1) “Fortunately, the most peculiar of the styling motifs Plymouth used on the 1961 range remained peculiar to that single season” or (2) “On the basis of comments from experts in the linguistics community, Lindsay Lohan's peculiar new accent seems peculiar to her.”  In each case the first instance was used in the sense of “strange or weird” while the second suggested “uniqueness”.  Because in sentence construction, unless done for deliberate effect, there's some reluctance to repeat what may be called “noticeable words” (ie those which “stick out” because they’re rare or in some way unusual), writers can be tempted by the sin of what Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) called “elegant variation”.  Although willing to concede inelegance had its place as a literary or dramatic device (rather as a soprano with a lovely voice sometimes has to sing an aria which demands she sounds “ugly”), Henry Fowler preferred all sentences to be elegant.  Elegance however was a product and not a process, and he cautioned “young writers” (those older presumably written off as beyond redemption) against following what had become established as a “misleading rules of thumb”: Never to use the same word twice in a sentence or within 20 lines or other limit.”  His view was that if unavoidable, repetition, elegantly done was preferable to the obviously contrived used of synonyms such as (1) monarch, king, sovereign, ruler or (2) women, ladies, females, the variants there just to comply with a non-existent rule.  Predictably, the law was singled out as repeat offender, the use of “suits, actions & cases appearing in the one sentence to describe the same thing pointlessly clumsy in what was merely a list in which a repeated use of “cases” would had added clarity although that quality is not one always valued by lawyers.   

Peculiar in the sense of something bizarre: 1961 Plymouth Fury Convertible.  It must have seemed a good idea at the time and never has there been anything to suggest the stylists were under the influence of stimulants stronger than caffeine or nicotine.

Sometimes something thought peculiar can be described as “funny-peculiar” to distinguish it from something disturbing: peculiarities can be thought of as perversions.  In 1906, an embittered and vengeful Friedrich von Holstein (1837–1909; between 1876-1906, an éminence grise in the foreign office of the German Empire) sent a letter to the diplomat Prince “Phili” Phillip of Eulenburg (1847–1921), the man he blamed for ending of his long and influential career:

“My dear Phili – you needn’t take this beginning as a compliment since nowadays to call a man ‘Phili” means – well, nothing very flattering… I am now free to handle you as one handles such a contemptible person with your peculiarities.”

From this incendiary note ensued a series of legal proceedings exploring the allegations of “unnatural conduct” (homosexual activity) levelled against Prince Phillip, proceedings which involved a roll-call of characters, many with motives which went beyond their strict legal duty and a few with their own agendas.  The matter of Phili’s “peculiarities” was of real political (and potentially constitutional) significance, not merely because homosexuality was punishable under the criminal code (although the statute was rarely enforced) but because the prince had for decades been the closest friend of the German Emperor, Kaiser Wilhelm II (1859–1941; German Emperor & King of Prussia 1888-1918).  To this day, the exact nature of the relationship between the two remains uncertain.

Quota

Quota (pronounced kwoh-tuh)

(1) The share or proportional part of a total that is required from, or is due or belongs to a particular district, state, person, group etc.

(2) A proportional part or share of a fixed total amount or quantity.

(3) The number or percentage of persons of a specified kind permitted (enrol in an institution, join a club, immigrate to a country, items to be imported etc).

1660–1670: From the Medieval Latin, a clipping of the Latin quota pars ((a percentage of yield owed to the authority as a form of taxation (in the New Latin, a quota, a proportional part or share; the share or proportion assigned to each in a division), from quotus ((which?; what number?; how many?, how few?)), from quat (how many?; as many as; how much?), from the Proto-Italic kwot, from the primitive Indo-European kwóti, the adverb from kwos & kwís; it was cognate with the Ancient Greek πόσος (pósos) and the Sanskrit कति (kati).  In English, until 1921 the only known uses of “quota” appear to be in the context of the Latin form, use spiking in the years after World War I (1914-1918) when “import quotas” were a quick and simply form of regulating the newly resumed international trade.  Quota is a noun, the noun plural is quotas.

Google ngram: 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 of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI 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.

Being something imposed by those in authority, quotas attract work-arounds and imaginative techniques of avoidance & evasion.  The terms which emerged included (1) quota-hopping (the registration of a business, vehicle, vessel etc in another jurisdiction in order to benefit from its quota), (2) quota quickie (historically, a class of low-cost films commissioned to satisfy the quota requirements of the UK’s Cinematograph Films Act (1927), a protectionist scheme imposed to stimulate the moribund local industry.  The system widely was rorted and achieved little before being repealed by in the Films Act (1960) although modern historians of film have a fondness for the quota quickies which are a recognizable genre of cultural significance with a certain period charm, (3) quota refugee (a refugee, relocated by the office of the UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees) to a country other the one in which they sought asylum in, in accord with relevant certain UN quotas).

South Park's Eric Cartman (left) and Token (now Tolkien) Black (right).

The writers of the animated TV series South Park (1997) (made with the technique DCAS (digital cutout animation style), a computerized implementation of the original CAS (cutout animation style) in which physical paper or cardboard objects were (by hand) moved (still images later joined or the hands edited-out if filmed); the digital process deliberately emulates the jerky, 2D (two-dimensional) effect of the original CAS) had their usual fun with the idea of a DEI (diversity, equity, inclusion) quota as “tokenism” with the creation of the character Token Black (ie the “token black character” among the substantially white ensemble).  However, in 2022, some 300 episodes into the series, the character was retconned to become “Tolkien Black”, the story-line being he was named after JRR Tolkien (1892–1973), author of the children’s fantasy stories The Hobbit (1937) & The Lord of the Rings trilogy (1954-1955).  Retonning (the full form being “retroactive continuity” is a literary device (widely (and sometimes carelessly) used in many forms of pop culture) in which previously-established facts in a fictional are in some way changed (to the point even of eradication or contradiction).  This is done for many reasons which can be artistic, a reaction to changing public attitudes, administrative convenience or mere commercial advantage.  What South Park’s producers did was comprehensively retrospective in that the back-catalogue was also updated, extending even to the sub-titles, something like the “unpersoning” processes under Comrade Joseph Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) or the painstaking “correcting” of the historic record undertaken by Winston Smith in George Orwell’s (1903-1950) Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949) .  Undertaken during the high-point of the BLM (Black Lives Matter) movement, the change did attract comment and most seemed to regard it as an attempt to remove a possible trigger for protest but there was also the argument there may have been concern the use of the given name “Token” might be able to be interpreted as a comment on the sometimes inventive spellings used by African-American parents.  While the use of “Token” as a comment on “white racism” was acceptable, an allusion to the racial stereotyping implicit in the spelling would be classified as at least a microaggression and probably white racism in action.

Gracious Quotes have aggregated Lindsay Lohan’s top ten quotes.

The English word quote (pronounced kwoht) was related to quota by a connection with the Latin quot.  It is used variously: (1) to repeat or use (a passage, phrase etc.) from a book, speech or such, (2) to enclose (words) within quotation marks or (3) to state a price.  It dated from the mid-fourteenth century and was from the Middle English coten & quoten (to mark a text with chapter numbers or marginal references), from the Old French coter, from the Medieval Latin quotāre (to divide into chapters and verses), from the Latin quot (how many) and related to quis (who).  The use evolved from the sense of “to give as a reference, to cite as an authority” to by the late seventeenth meaning “to copy out exact words”.  The use in commerce (“to state the price of a commodity or service” dates from the 1860s and was a revival of the etymological meaning from the Latin, the noun in this context in use by at least 1885.

In Australian politics, there have long been “informal” quotas.  Although Roman Catholics have in recent years infiltrated the Liberal Party (in numbers which suggest a “take-over” can’t be far off), there was a time when their presence in the party was rare and Sir Neil O'Sullivan (1900–1968) who between 1949-1958 sat in several cabinets under Sir Robert Menzies (1894–1978; prime-minister of Australia 1939-1941 & 1949-1966), noted wryly that as the ministry’s “designated Roman Catholic”, he: “wore the badge of his whole race.”  That was of course an “unofficial” (though for years well-enforced) quota but the concept appears to this day to persist, including in the ALP (Australian Labor Party) which, long past it’s “White Australia” days, is now more sensitive than some to DEI.  However, the subtleties of reconciling the ALP’s intricate factional arrangements with the need simultaneously to maintain (again unofficial) quotas preserving the delicate business of identity politics seem to have occasional unexpected consequences.  In the first cabinet of Anthony Albanese (b 1963; prime-minister of Australia since 2022), there was one “designated Jew” (Mark Alfred Dreyfus (b 1956).  Mark Dreyfus’s middle name is “Alfred” which is of course striking but there is no known genealogical connection between and the Alfred Dreyfus (1859–1935), the French Jewish army officer at the centre of the infamous Dreyfus affair (1894-1906).  The surname Dreyfus is not uncommon among European Jews and exists most frequently in families of Alsatian origin although the Australian’s father was a Jewish refugee from Nazi Germany.  Having apparently outlived his ethnic usefulness, Dreyfus fell victim to factional axe and was dumped from the ministry, some conspiracy theorists pondering whether the ALP might have liked the “optics” of expelling a Jew while the party’s reaction to the war in Gaza was being criticized by Muslim commentators.

Smiles all round.  Official photograph of the new ALP ministry, Canberra, Australia, June 2022. 

The cabinet also had one “designated Muslim” (Edham Nurredin “Ed” Husic (b 1970)), notable for being both the first Muslim elected to federal parliament and thus the first to serve in a ministry.  That had an obviously pleasing multi-cultural symmetry but for a number of reasons the ALP achieved a remarkably successful result in the 2025 election and that complicated things because radically it changed the balance in the numbers between the party’s right-wing, the relativities between the New South Wales (NSW) and Victorian factions significantly distorted relative to their presence in the ministry.  While the ALP is often (correctly) described as “tribal”, it’s really an aggregation of tribes, split between the right, left and some notionally non-aligned members, those alliances overlaid by each individual’s dependence on their relevant state or territory branch.  The system always existed but after the 1960s became institutionalized and it’s now difficult to imagine the ALP working without the formalized (each with its own letterhead) factional framework for without it the results would be unpredictable; as all those who claimed the Lebanese state would be a better place were the influence of the Hezbollah to be eliminated or at least diminished are about to discover, such changes can make things worse.

However, the 2025 election delivered the ALP a substantial majority but what was of interest to the political junkies was that the breakdown in numbers made it obvious the NSW right-wing was over-represented in the ministry, compared to the Victorian right.  What that meant was that someone from NSW had to be sacrificed and that turned out to be Mr Husic, replaced as the cabinet’s designated Muslim by Dr Anne Aly from the Western Australia’s Labor Left.  Culturally, to many that aspect seemed culturally insensitive.  To be replaced as designated Muslim might by Mr Husic have been accepted as just a typical ALP factional power play (a reasonable view given it was the faction which put him in the ministry in the first place) had he been replaced by a man but to be replaced by a Muslim woman must have been a humiliation and one wonders if the factional power-brokers have done their “cultural awareness training”, something the party has been anxious to impose on the rest of the country.  Mr Husic’s demise to the less remunerative back-bench is said to have been engineered by Deputy Prime Minister Richard Marles (b 1967) of the Victorian Right Faction and his role wasn’t ignored when Mr Husic was interviewed on national television, informing the country: “I think when people look at a deputy prime minister, they expect to see a statesman, not a factional assassin.”  Given the conduct & character of some previous holders of the office, it’s not clear why Mr Husic would believe Australians would think this but, in the circumstances, his bitterness was understandable.  Somewhat optimistically, Mr Husic added: “There will be a lot of questions put to Richard about his role.  And that's something that he will have to answer and account for.”  In an act of kindness, the interviewer didn’t trouble to tell his interlocutor: (1) Those aware of Mr Marles’ role in such matters don’t need it explained and (2) those not aware don’t care.

Richard Marles (right) assessing Ed Husic’s (left) interscapular region.

When Mr Marles was interviewed, he was asked if he thought he had “blood on his hands”, the same question which more than forty years earlier had been put to Bob Hawke (1929–2019; Prime Minister of Australia 1983-1991) who had just (on the eve of a general election) assumed the ALP leadership after the “factional assassins” had pole-axed the hapless Bill Hayden (1933–2023; ALP leader 1977-1983) after the latter’s earnest but ineffectual half decade as leader of Her Majesty’s loyal opposition.  Mr Hawke, not then fully house-trained by the pre-modern ALP machine, didn’t react well but to Mr Marles it seemed water of a duck’s back and he responded: “I don't accept that, these are collective processes... they are obviously difficult processes.  But, at the end of the day we need to go through the process of choosing a ministry in the context of there being a lot of talented people who can perform the role.”  Unfortunately, Mr Marles declined to discuss the secret factional manoeuvring which led to Mr Husic being sacrificed, the speculation including Dr Ally being thought better value because she could be not only cabinet’s designated woman but also boost the female numbers in the body, a matter of some sensitivity given how many women had joined the ALP caucus, many of them unexpectedly winning electorates to which they’d gain pre-selection only because the factional power-brokers considered them unwinnable.

Still, to be fair to Mr Marles, his anodyne non-answers were a master-class in composition and delivery: “There are so many people who would be able to admirably perform the role of ministers who are not ministers.  What I would say is I'm really confident about the ministry that has been chosen and the way in which it's going to perform on behalf of the Australian people.  But in the same breath, I'd also very much acknowledge the contribution that Ed Husic has made and for that matter, that Mark Dreyfus has made.  Both have made a huge contribution to this country in the time that they have served as ministers. I am grateful for that.”  Whether or not he believed his gratitude would be appreciated, Mr Marles was emphatic about his faction maintaining its Masonic-like cloak of secrecy, concluding his answer by saying: “I'm not about to go into the detail of how those processes unfold.  I've not spoken about those processes in the past obviously and I'm not about to talk about them now.”  It’s a shame politicians don’t think their parties should be as “transparent” the standard they often attempt to impose on others because Mr Marles discussing the plotting & scheming of factional machinations would be more interesting than most of what gets recited at his press conferences.

Although the most publicized barbs exchanged by politicians are inter-party, they tend to be derivative, predictable or scripted and much more fun are the spur-of-the-moment intra-party insults.  Presumably, intra-faction stuff might be juicier still but the leaks from that juicer are better sealed which is a shame because the ALP has a solid history in such things. 

Bill Hayden not having forgotten the part played in his earlier axing as party leader by Barrie Unsworth (b 1934; Premier of NSW 1986-1988) observed of him: “…were you the sort person who liked the simple pleasures in life, such as tearing the wings off butterflies, then Barrie Unsworth was the man for you.”  Hayden had not escape critiquing either, the man who deposed him (Bob Hawke) describing him in the run up to the coup as “A lying cunt with a limited future.”  Another ALP leader (Gough Whitlam (1916–2014; prime minister of Australia 1972-1975)) had a way with words, complaining to Charlie Jones (1917-2003): “You’re the transport minister, but every time you open your mouth, things go into reverse.”  Nor did Whitlam restrict his invective to individuals, once complaining of some of his colleagues: “I can only say we've just got rid of the '36 faceless men' stigma to be faced with the 12 witless men.”  The twelve were members of the ALP’s federal executive who in 1966 were poised to engineer Whitlam’s removal as deputy leader of the opposition and would have, had he not out- maneuvered them.

Sydney Daily Telegraph 22 March 1963 (left) and Liberal Party campaign pamphlet for 1963 federal election (right).

Dating from 1963, the phrase “36 faceless men” (one of whom was the token woman, the ALP having quotas even then) described the members of the ALP’s federal conference which, at the time, wrote the party platform, handing to the politicians to execute.  The term came to public attention when a photograph appeared on a newspaper’s front page showing Whitlam and Arthur Calwell (1896-1973; ALP leader 1960-1967) standing outside the hotel where the 36 were meeting, waiting to be invited in to be told what their policies were to be.  The conservative government used to great effect the claim the ALP was ruled by “36 faceless men”.  In the 2010s, there was a revival when there were several defenestrations of prime-ministers & premiers by factional operators who did their stuff, mostly in secret, through back channel deals and political thuggery.  In an untypically brief & succinct address, Dr Kevin Rudd (b 1957; Prime-Minister of Australia 2007-2010 & 2013) at the time summed up his feelings for his disloyal colleagues: “In recent days, Minister Crean [Simon Crean (1949–2023; ALP leader 2001-2003)] and a number of other faceless men have publicly attacked my integrity and therefore my fitness to serve as a minister in the government.... I deeply believe that if the Australian Labor Party, a party of which I have been a proud member for more than 30 years, is to have the best future for our nation, then it must change fundamentally its culture and to end the power of faceless men. Australia must be governed by the people, not by the factions.”  Otherwise mostly forgotten, Simon Crean and his followers are remembered as “Simon and the Creanites”, a coining by Peter Costello (b 1957; Treasurer of Australia, 1996-2007) who re-purposed “Creanites” from an earlier use by Paul Keating (b 1944; Prime Minister of Australia 1991-1996).

Sunroof

Sunroof (pronounced suhn-roof)

(1) A section of an automobile roof (sometimes translucent and historically called a moonroof) which can be slid or lifted open.

(2) In obstetrics, a slang term used by surgeons to describe the Caesarean section.

1952: A compound word, the construct being sun + roof.  Sun was from the Middle English sonne & sunne, from the Old English sunne, from the Proto-West Germanic sunnā, from the Proto-Germanic sunnǭ, from the primitive Indo-European shwen-, oblique of sóhw (sun).  The other forms from the Germanic included the Saterland Frisian Sunne, the West Frisian sinne, the German Low German Sünn, the Dutch zon, the German Sonne and the Icelandic sunna.  The forms which emerged without Germanic influence included the Welsh huan, the Sanskrit स्वर् (svar) and the Avestan xᵛə̄ṇg.  The related forms were sol, Sol, Surya and Helios.  Roof was from the Middle English rof, from the Old English hrōf (roof, ceiling; top, summit; heaven, sky), from the Proto-Germanic hrōfą (roof).  Throughout the English-speaking world, roofs is now the standard plural form of roof.  Rooves does have some history but has long been thought archaic and the idea there would be something to be gained from maintaining rooves as the plural to avoid confusion with roof’s the possessive never received much support.  Despite all that, rooves does seem to appear more than might be expected, presumably because there’s much more tolerance extended to the irregular plural hooves but the lexicographers are unimpressed and insist the model to follow is poof (an onomatopoeia describing a very small explosion, accompanied usually by a puff of smoke), more than one poof correctly being “poofs”.  In use, a poof was understood as a small event but that's obviously a spectrum and some poofs would have been larger than others so it would have been a matter of judgement when something ceased to be a “big poof” and was classed an explosion proper.  Sunroof is a noun (sometimes hyphenated); the noun plural is sunroofs.

1973 Lincoln Continental Mark IV with moonroof.

Sunroofs existed long before 1952 but that was the year the word seems first to have been adopted by manufacturers in Detroit.  The early sunroofs were folding fabric but metal units, increasingly electrically operated, were more prevalent by the early 1970s.  Ford, in 1973, introduced the word moonroof (which was used also as moon roof & moon-roof) to describe the sliding pane of one-way glass mounted in the roof panel over the passenger compartment of the Lincoln Continental Mark IV (1972-1976).  Moonroof soon came to describe any translucent roof panel, fixed or sliding though the term faded from use and all such things tend now to be thought sunroofs.

Open (left) and shut (centre) case: 1976 Lincoln Continental Mark IV (right) with Moonroof and "opera windows".

According to Ford in 1973, a “sunroof” was an opening in the roof with a sliding hatch made from a non-translucent material (metal or vinyl) while a “moonroof” included a hatch made from a transparent or semi-transparent substance (typically then glass).  The advantage the moonroof offered was additional natural light could be enjoyed even if the weather (rain, temperature etc) precluded opening the hatch.  A secondary, internal, sliding hatch (really an extension of the roof lining) enabled the sun to be blocked out if desired and in that configuration the cabin’s ambiance would be the same whether equipped with sunroof, moonroof or no sliding mechanism of any kind.  Advances in materials mean many of what now commonly are called “sunroofs” are (by Ford’s 1973 definition) really moonroofs but use of the latter term is now rare.

Lindsay Lohan standing through a sunroof: Promotional photo-shoot for Herbie Fully Loaded (2005).

Unlike many manufacturers, for many years Volkswagen maintained specific “Sunroof” models in the Beetle (Type 1) range.  When in 1945 the British military occupation forces assumed control of the Volkswagen factory and commenced production of civilian models (those made since 1938 delivered almost exclusively to the German armed forces or Nazi Party functionaries), one of the first organizational changes was to replace Herr Professor Ferdinand Porsche’s (1875–1951) internal type designations with a new set and these included the 115 (Standard Beetle Sunroof Sedan (LHD (left-hand drive)), 116 (Standard Beetle Sunroof Sedan (RHD (right-hand drive)), 117 (Export Deluxe Beetle Sunroof Sedan (LHD) & Export Deluxe Beetle Sunroof Sedan (RHD).  The original sunroof was a folding, fabric apparatus and this remained in use until 1963, a steel, sliding (manually hand-cranked) unit was fitted after the release of the 1964 range.  The Beetle used in the original film (The Love Bug (1968)) was a 1963 Sunroof Beetle; at the time they were readily available at low cost but by 2004-2005 when Herbie: Fully Loaded was in production, they were less numerous and some of those used in the filming were actually 1961 models modified (to the extent required in movies) for purposes of continuity.  Interestingly, the one which appears in most scenes appears to be a 1964 model which implies the folding sunroof was at some point added, not difficult because the kits have long been available.

Caesarean section post-operative scar: C-section scar revision is now a commonly performed procedure.

Manufacturers in the 1970s allocated resources to refine the sunroof because, at the time, the industry’s assumption was the implications of the US NHTSA's (National Highway Traffic Safety Administration) FMVSS (Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standards) 208 (roll-over protection, published 1970) fully would be realized, outlawing both convertibles and hardtops (certainly the four-door versions).  FMVSS 208 was slated to take effect in late 1975 (when production began of passenger vehicles for the 1976 season) with FMVSS 216 (roof-crush standards) added in 1971 and applying to 1974-onwards models.  There was a “transitional” exemption for convertibles but it ran only until August 1977 (a date agreed with the industry because by then Detroit’s existing convertible lines were scheduled to have reached their EoL (end of life)) at which point the roll-over and roof-crush standards universally would be applied to passenger vehicles meaning the only way a “convertible” could registered for use on public roads was if it was some interpretation of the “targa” concept (Porsche 911, Chevrolet Corvette etc), included what was, in effect a roll-cage (Triumph Stag) or (then more speculatively), some sort of device which in the event of a roll-over would automatically be activated to afford occupants the mandated level of protection and Mercedes-Benz later would include such a device on the R129 SL roadster (1998-2001).  Although in 1988 there were not yet “pop-ups” on the internet to annoy us, quickly the press dubbed the R129’s innovative safety feature a “pop-up roll bar”, the factory called the apparatus automatischer Überrollbügel (automatic rollover bar).  Activated by a control unit that triggered an electromagnet to release a stored spring tension, the bar was designed fully to deploy in less than a half-second if sensors detected an impending rollover although the safety-conscious could at any time raise it by pressing one of the R129’s many buttons.  This was a time when the corporate tag-line “Engineered like no other car” was still a reasonable piece of “mere puffery”.

Alternative approaches (partial toplessness): 1973 Triumph Stag in Magenta over Black (left) and 1972 Porsche 911S Targa in Black over Black (right).  The lovely but flawed Stag (1970-1977) actually needed its built-in "roll bar" for structural rigidity because it's underpinnings substantially were unchanged from the Triumph 2000 sedan (1963-1977) on which it was based.  While some of the colors British Leyland offered in the 1970s were ghastly, Triumph's Magenta was quite fetching and looked good also on the TR6 roadster (1968-1976).

Despite the myths which grew to surround the temporary extinction of convertibles from Detroit’s production lines, at the time, the industry was at best indifferent about their demise and happily would have offered immediately to kill the breed as a trade-off for a relaxation or abandonment of other looming safety standards.  As motoring conditions changed and the cost of installing air-conditioning fell, convertible sales had since the mid-1960s been in decline and the availability of the style had been pruned from many lines.  Because of the additional engineering required (strengthening the platform, elaborate folding roofs with electric motors), keeping them in the range was justifiable only if volumes were high and it was obvious to all the trend was downwards, thus the industry being sanguine about the species loss.  That attitude didn’t however extend to a number of British and European manufacturers which had since the early post-war years found the US market a place both receptive and lucrative for their roadsters and cabriolets; for some, their presence in the US was sustained only by drop-top sales.  By the 1970s, the very existence of the charming (if antiquated) MG & Triumph roadsters was predicated upon US sales.

High tech approach (prophylactic toplessness): Mercedes-Benz advertising for the R129 roadster (in the factory's Sicherheitsorange (safety orange) used for test vehicles).  The play on words used the German wunderbar (“wonderful” and pronounced vuhn-dah-baah) in a context so an English speaking audience would construct the word as “wonder bar”; it made for better advertising copy than the heading: Automatischer Überrollbügel.  It had been the spectre of US legislation which accounted for Mercedes-Benz not including a cabriolet when the S-Class (W116) was released in 1972, leaving the SL (R107; 1971-1989) roadster as the company’s only open car and it wasn’t until 1990 a four-seat cabriolet returned with the debut of the A124. 

Chrysler was already in the courts to attempt to have a number of the upcoming regulations (focusing on those for which compliance would be most costly, particularly barrier crash and passive safety requirements) so instead of filing their own suit, a consortium of foreign manufacturers (including British Leyland & Fiat) sought to “append themselves” to the case, lodging a petition seeking judicial review of roll-over and roof-crush standards, arguing that in their present form (ie FMVSS 208 & 216), their application unfairly would render unlawful the convertible category (on which the profitability of their US operation depended).  A federal appeals court late in 1972 agreed and referred the matter back to NHTSA for revision, ordering the agency to ensure the standard “…does not in fact serve to eliminate convertibles and sports cars from the United States new car market.”  The court’s edit was the basis for the NHTSA making convertibles permanently exempt from roll-over & roof crush regulations.  That ensured the foreign roadsters & cabriolets lived on but although the ruling would have enabled Detroit to remain in the market, it regarded the segment as one in apparently terminal decline and had no interest in allocating resources to develop new models, happily letting existing lines expire.

The “last American convertible” ceremony, Cadillac Clark Street Assembly Plant, Detroit, Michigan, 21 April 1976.

One potential “special case” may have been the Cadillac Eldorado which by 1975 was the only one of the few big US convertibles still available selling in reasonable numbers but the platform was in its final years and with no guarantee a version based on the new, smaller Eldorado (to debut in 1978) would enjoy similar success, General Motors (GM) decided it wasn’t worth the trouble but, sensing a “market opportunity”, promoted the 1976 model as the “Last American convertible”.  Sales spiked, some to buyers who purchased the things as investments, assuming in years to come they’d have a collectable and book a tidy profit on-selling to those who wanted a (no longer available) big drop-top.  Not only did GM use the phrase as a marketing hook; when the last of the 1976 run rolled off the Detroit production line on 21 April, the PR department, having recognized a photo opportunity, conducted a ceremony, complete with a “THE END OF AN ERA 1916-1976”) banner and a “LAST” Michigan license plate.  The final 200 Fleetwood Eldorado convertibles were “white on white on white”, identically finished in white with white soft-tops, white leather seat trim with red piping, white wheel covers, red carpeting & a red instrument panel; red and blue hood (bonnet) accent stripes marked the nation’s bicentennial year.

The “Last American Convertible” ceremony, Cadillac Clark Street Assembly Plant, Detroit, Michigan, 21 April 1976.

Of course in 1984 a convertible returned to the Cadillac catalogue so some of those who had stashed away their 1976 models under wraps in climate controlled garages weren’t best pleased and litigation ensued, a class action filed against GM alleging the use of the (now clearly incorrect) phrase “Last American Convertible” had been “deceptive or misleading” in that it induced the plaintiffs to enter a contract which they’d not otherwise have undertaken.  The suit was dismissed on the basis of there being insufficient legal grounds to support the claim, the court ruling the phrase was a “non-actionable opinion” rather than a “factual claim”, supporting GM's contention it had been a creative expression rather than a strict statement of fact and thus did not fulfil the criteria for a “deceptive advertising” violation.  Additionally, the court found there was no actual harm caused to the class of plaintiffs as they failed to show they had suffered economic loss or that the advertisement had led them to make a purchase they would not otherwise have made.  That aspect of the judgment has since been criticized with dark hints it was one of those “what’s good for General Motors is good for the country” moments but the documentary evidence did suggest GM at the time genuinely believed the statement to be true and no action was possible against the government on several grounds, including the doctrines of remoteness and unforeseeability.

Ronald Reagan (1911-2004, US president 1981-1989). in riding boots & spurs with 1938 LaSalle Series 50 Convertible Coupe (one of 819 produced that year), Warner Brothers Studios, Burbank California, 1941.  

LaSalle was the lower-priced (although marketed more as "sporty") "companion marque" to Cadillac and a survivor of GM's (Great Depression-induced) 1931 cull of brand-names, the last LaSalle produced in 1940.  Mr Regan remained fond of Cadillacs and when president was instrumental is shifting the White House's presidential fleet to them from Lincolns.  Although doubtlessly Mr Reagan had fond memories of top-down motoring in sunny California (climate change not yet making things too hot, too often for them to be enjoyed in summer) and was a champion (for better and worse) of de-regulation, it's an urban myth he lobbied to ensure convertibles weren't banned in the US.  

Following Lindsay Lohan's example: President Xi standing through a sunroof, reviewing military parade in Hongqi L5 state limousine, Beijing, 2019.

The highlight of the ceremonies marking the 70^th anniversary of the founding of the People's Republic of China (PRC) was the military parade, held in Beijing on 1 October 2019.  Claimed to be the largest military parade and mass pageant in China's 4,000-odd year history (and the last mass gathering in China prior to the outbreak in Wuhan of became the COVID-19 pandemic), the formations were reviewed by the ruling Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) General Secretary Xi Jinping (b 1953; paramount leader of the PRC since 2012).  The assembled crowd was said without exception to be “enthusiastic and happy” and the general secretary's conspicuously well-cut Mao suit was a nice nostalgic touch.

Two generals of the Belarus army take the salute standing, in Honggi L5 Parade Convertibles, Minsk, Belarus, June 2017.

Independence Day in Belarus is celebrated annually on 3 June and there is always a significant military component.  Other than the PRC, Belarus is the only known operator of the Honqqi and the four-door convertible parade cars were apparently a "gift" (as opposed to foreign aid) from the Chinese government but the aspect of this photograph which attracted some comment was whether the hats worn by generals in Belarus were bigger than the famously imposing headwear of the army of the DPRK (Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (North Korea)); analysts of military millinery appeared to conclude the dimensions were similar.  Purists traditionally describe this style of coach-work as "four-door cabriolet" and it was "Cabriolet D" in the Daimler-Benz system but the "parade convertible" is a distinct breed and often includes features such as grab bars for those standing, microphones and loud-speakers so the “enthusiastic and happy” crowd miss not one word.   

Hongqi L5 state limousine.

The car carrying President Xi was the Hongqi L5, the state limousine of the PRC, the coachwork styling a deliberately retro homage to the Hongqi CA770, the last in the line (dating from 1958) of large cars built almost exclusively for use by the upper echelons of the CCP.  Most of the earlier cars were built on the large platforms US manufacturers used in the 1960s and were powered by a variety of US-sourced V8 engines but the L5 was wholly an indigenous product, built with both a 6.0 litre (365 cubic inch) V12 and 4.0 litre (245 cubic inch) V8 although neither configuration is intended for high-performance.  Interestingly, although Hongqi L5 have produced a version of the L5 with four-door convertible coachwork as a formal parade car and they have been used both in the PRC and in Belarus, the general secretary conducted his review in a closed vehicle with a sunroof.

US President Richard Nixon (1913-1994, US president 1969-1974) with Anwar Sadat (1918–1981; President of Egypt 1970-1981) in a 1967 Cadillac convertible, Alexandria, Egypt, June 1974.  On that day, the motorcade was 180-strong and unlike the reception his appearance in the US now induced, the Egyptian crowd really did seem genuinely enthusiastic and happy.  Within two months, in disgrace because of his part in the Watergate Affair cover-up, Nixon would resign.

The CCP didn’t comment on the choice of a car with a sunroof and it may have been made on technical grounds, the provision of a microphone array presumably easier with the roof available as a mounting point and given the motorcade travelled a higher speed than a traditional parade, it would also have provided a more stable platform for the general secretary.  It’s not thought there was any concern about security, Xi Jinping (for a variety of reasons) safer in his capital than many leaders although heads of state and government became notably more reticent about travelling in open-topped vehicles after John Kennedy (1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) was assassinated in 1963.  Some, perhaps encouraged by Richard Nixon being greeted by cheering crowds in 1974 when driven through the streets of Alexandria (a potent reminder of how things have changed) in a Cadillac convertible, persisted but after the attempt on the life of John Paul II (1920–2005; pope 1978-2005) in 1981, there’s been a trend to roofs all the way, sometimes molded in translucent materials of increasing chemical complexity to afford some protection from assassins.

Military parade marking the 70^th anniversary of the founding of the PRC, Beijing, China, 1 October 2019.  Great set-piece military parades like those conducted by the PRC and DPRK (recalling the spectacles staged by both Nazi Germany (1933-1945) and the Soviet Union (1922-1991) are now packaged for television and distribution on streaming platforms and it may be Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) was hoping the "Grand Military Parade" he scheduled in 2025 for his 79^th birthday (ostensibly to celebrate 250 years since the formation of the US Army) would display the same impressive precision in chorography.     

Covering all possibilities during the 24 hour cycle.  US advertisement (1974) for the Renault 17 Gordini Coupe Convertible, the Gordini tag adopted as a "re-brand" of the top-of-the-range R17 (1971-1979).  Gordini was a French sports car producer and tuning house, absorbed by Renault in 1968, the name from time-to-time used for high-performance variants of various Renault models.

Renault over the decades made the occasional foray into the tempting US market but all ended badly in one way or another, their products, whatever their sometimes real virtues, tending not to be suited to US driving habits and conditions.  Sunroofs had long been popular in Europe and, noting (1) what was assumed to be the demise of the convertible and (2) Lincoln's coining of "moon roof", Renault decided Americans deserved a sunroof, moonroof & starroof, all in one.  Actually, they got even more because there was also a removable, fibreglass hardtop for the winter months, Renault correctly concluding there would be little demand for a rainroof.  Physically large as it had to be, unlike a targa top, the 17's panel was intended (like other hardtops) to be stored in a garage until the warmer months.  One quirk of the R17's nomenclature was in Italy, in deference to the national heptadecaphobia, the car was sold as the R177 but the Italians showed little more interest than the Americans.

Porsche, sunroofs, weight distribution and centres of gravity 

Porsche 917K, Le Mans, 1970.

Porsche in the early 1970s enjoyed great success in sports car racing with their extraordinary 917 but greatly innovation and speed disturb the clipboard-carriers at the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (the FIA; the International Automobile Federation) which is international sport's dopiest regulatory body.  Inclined instinctively to ban anything interesting, the FIA outlawed the 917 in sports car racing so Porsche turned its glance to the Can-Am (Canadian-American Challenge Cup) for unlimited displacement (Group 7) sports cars, then dominated by the McLarens powered by big-displacement Chevrolet V8s.  Unable to enlarge the 917's Flat-12 to match the power of the V8s and finding their prototype Flat-16 too bulky, Porsche resorted to forced aspiration and created what came to be known as the "TurboPanzer", a 917 which in qualifying trim took to the tracks with some 1,500 horsepower (HP).  There's since been nothing quite like it and for two years it dominated the Can-Am until the first oil shock in 1973 put an end to the fun.  However, the lessons learned about turbocharging the factory would soon put to good use.

The widow-maker: 1979 Porsche 930 Turbo (RoW (rest of the world (ie Non-NA (North American) market) model) in the “so 1980s” Guards Red over black leather with “Sunroof Delete” option.

Although an RoW car, this one has been "federalized" for registration in the US including the then required sealed-beam headlights, fitted inside the "sugar-scoop" housings.  Curiously, although the term “sunroof delete option” is often applied to the relative few 930s with solid metal roofs, there was at the time no such 930 option code and, the sunroof being listed as “standard equipment” on 930s, if a customer requested one not be fitted, what the factory did was not include option 9474 (electric sunroof) on the build sheet.  Later the companion option codes 650 (Sunroof) and 652 (Delete Sunroof) became part of the list for all models.  Rare though it may be in some Porsches, for some the “sunroof delete” thing is surprisingly desirable and in the aftermarket, it's possible to purchase “sunroof delete” panels which convert a sunroof-equipped car into one with a solid metal roof.  They are bought usually by those converting road-going cars for track use, the removal of the 29 lb-odd (13 kg) assembly not only saving weight but also lowering the centre of gravity.

1982 Porsche 930 "Sunroof Coupé" in Grand Prix White over black leather.

Introduced in 1975, the 911 Turbo (930 the internal designation) had been intended purely as a homologation exercise (al la the earlier 911 RS Carrera) so the engine could be used in competition but so popular did it prove it was added to the list as a regular production model and one has been a permanent part of the catalogue almost continuously since.  The additional power and its sometimes sudden arrival meant the early versions were famously twitchy at the limit (and such was the power those limits were easily reached if not long explored), gaining the machine the nickname “widow-maker”.  There was plenty of advice available for drivers, the most useful probably the instruction not to use the same technique when cornering as one might in a front-engined car and a caution that even if one had had a Volkswagen Beetle while a student, that experience might not be enough to prepare one for a Porsche Turbo.  When stresses are extreme, the physics mean the location of small amounts of weight become subject to a multiplier-effect and the advice was those wishing to explore a 930's limits of adhesion should get one with the rare “sunroof delete” option, the lack of the additional weight up there slightly lowering the centre of gravity.  However, even that precaution may only have delayed the inevitable and possibly made the consequences worse, one travelling a little faster before the tail-heavy beast misbehaved.

Still, among the cult of the 911, it’s devotees of the 930 who seem to feel most obliged to defend a configuration which, even in 1938 when the first Volkswagen Beetle (then called KdF-Wagen, borrowing the Kraft durch Freude (Strength through Joy) slogan of the Deutsche Arbeitsfront (DAF, the German Labour Front)) was displayed when Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) laid the foundation stone of what would become the Wolfsburg plant, was hardly state of the art.  More than one 930 cultist has claimed the “unusual” behaviour “in some circumstances” has little to do with the physics of rearward mass but is a product of drivers inexperienced in handling the implications of the “tight LSD” (limited slip differential).  According to the most uncompromising of the 930 cognoscenti, it's all a matter of practice: in turns, one should start slowly, gradually increasing speed as one’s technique improves.

Porsche 911 Carrera S, Pacific Coast Highway in Santa Monica, Los Angeles, June 2012.

Although it seems improbable, when in 2012 Lindsay Lohan crashed a sunroof-equipped Porsche 911 Carrera, it's not impossible the unfortunate event may have been related to the slight change in the car's centre of gravity when fitted with a sunroof.  She anyway had some bad luck when driving black German cars but clearly Ms Lohan should avoid Porsches with sunroofs.

The interaction of the weight of a 911’s roof (and thus the centre of gravity) and the rearward bias of the weight distribution was not a thing of urban myth or computer simulations.  In the February 1972 edition of the US magazine Car and Driver (C&D), a comparison test was run of the three flavours of the revised 911 (911T, 911E & 911S), using one of each of the available bodies: coupé, targa & sunroof coupé, the latter with the most additional weight in the roof.  What the testers noted in the targa & sunroof-equipped 911s was a greater tendency to twitchiness in corners, something no doubt exacerbated in the sunroof coupé because the sliding panel’s electric motor was installed in the engine bay.  C&D’s conclusion was: “If handling is your goal, it's best to stick with the plain coupe.”  

The Porsche 911 E series and the Ölklappe affair

1971 Porsche 911S

The flap for the oil filler cap behind the passenger-side door (US market model and thus left-hand drive (LHD)) was unique to the E Series.  The factory confirmed this car was built in July 1971, despite many references to E series production beginning in August.  By convention, this is a “1972 Porsche”, following the US practice whereby a "model year generally began the previous fall (autumn), usually in September.  That's why models introduced the following spring got dubbed YYYY-½, thus the 1964 Ford Mustangs being "1964-½" cars because the range debuted in April that year.

Although in C&D's 1972 comparison test there was much focus on the rearward weight bias, the three 911s supplied actually had a slightly less tail-heavy weight distribution than either that season's predecessor or successor.  Porsche in 1971 began the build of its E series update (produced between July 1971-July 1972 and generally known as the “1972 models”) of the then almost decade-old 911 and in addition to the increase in the flat-six’s displacement from 2.2 litres (134 cubic inch) to 2.3 (143) (although always referred to as the “2.4”), there were a myriad of changes, some in response to US safety & emissions legislation while others were part of normal product development.

One of latter was the placing of the hinged-flap over the oil filler cap behind the right side door, something necessitated by the dry sump oil tank having been re-located from behind the right rear wheel to in front, one of a number of design changes undertaken to shift the weight distribution forward and improve the handling of the rear-engined machine’s inherently tail-heavy configuration.  In Germany, the addition was known variously as Ölklappe, Oil Klapper or Vierte Tür (fourth door, the fuel filler flap being the third).  Weight reduction (then becoming difficult in the increasingly strict regulatory environment), especially at the rear, was also a design imperative and the early-build E series cars were fitted with an aluminum engine lid and license-plate panel although these components were soon switched to steel because of production difficulties and durability concerns.

Where the troubles began:  The fuel filler flap on the left-front fender (left) and the oil filler flap on the right-rear (right).  Apparently, not even the “◀ Oil” sticker in red was sufficient warning.   History blames gas station attendants for getting the two confused but, "history being written by the winners", MRDA may apply and it's likely some owners also pumped gas through the wrong spout.

For the E series 911s, Porsche recommended the use of a multigrade mineral oil (SAE 20W-50 or SAE 15W-40, depending on climate) but were aware those using their vehicles in competition sometimes used a high-viscosity SAE 50 monograde.  With the car’s 10 litre (10.6 US quarts, 8.8 Imperial quarts) oil tank, the fluid’s weight would be between 8.5-9.1 kg (18.7-20.0 lb) and the physics of motion meant that the more rearward the placement of that mass, the greater the effect on the 911’s handling characteristics.  It was thus a useful contribution to what would prove a decades-long quest to tame the behaviour of what, in the early versions, was a car regarded (not wholly unfairly) as handling like “a very fast Volkswagen Beetle” and ultimately the engineers succeeded, it being only at the speeds which should be restricted to race tracks the 911s of the 2020s sometimes reveal the implications of being rear-engined.

VDO instruments in 1971 Porsche 911S.  In home market cars, the oil pressure gauge (to the left of the centrally mounted tachometer) was labelled DRUCK.

However, when in August 1972 the revised F series entered production, the oil tank was back behind the rear wheel and the filler under the engine lid, the retrogressive move taken because there had been instances of gas (petrol) station attendants (they really used to exist) assuming the oil filler flap was the access point for the gas cap and, to be fair, it was in a location used for gas on many front-engined cars (a majority of the passenger-car fleet in most markets where Porsche had a presence).  Quite how often this happened isn’t known but it must have been frequent enough for the story to become part of the 911 legend and the consequences could have been severe and rectification expensive.  The factory paid much attention to oil and also ensured drivers could monitor the status of the critical fluid; all air-cooled 911s ran hot and the more highly tuned the model (in 1971-1972 the 911T, E & S in increasing potency), the hotter they got.  As well as being a lubricant, engine oil functions also as a coolant and the VDO instrumentation included gauges for oil level, oil temperature, and oil pressure; for all three to appear in a road car was unusual but being air-cooled and thus with no conventional fluid coolant, the oil's dynamics were most important, engineers noting it's as accurate to speak of such machines being "oil-cooled".