Vogue

Vogue (pronounced vohg)

(1) Something in fashion at a particular time or in a particular place.

(2) An expression of popular currency, acceptance, or favor.

(3) A highly stylized modern dance that evolved out of the Harlem ballroom scene in the 1960s, the name influenced by the fashion magazine; one who practiced the dance was a voguer who was voguing.

(4) In Polari, a cigarette or to light a cigarette (often in the expression “vogue me up”).

(5) The world's best known women's fashion magazine, the first issue in 1892 and now published by Condé Nast.

1565–1575: From the Middle English vogue (height of popularity or accepted fashion), from the Middle French vogue (fashion, success (literally, “wave or course of success”)), from the Old French vogue (a rowing), from voguer (to row, sway, set sail), from the Old Saxon wegan (to move) & wogōn (to sway, rock), a variant of wagōn (to float, fluctuate), from the Proto-Germanic wagōną (to sway, fluctuate) and the Proto-Germanic wēgaz (water in motion), wagōną (to sway, fluctuate), wēgaz (water in motion) & weganą (to move, carry, weigh), from the primitive Indo-European weǵh- (to move, go, transport (and an influence on the English way).  The forms were akin to the Old Saxon wegan (to move), the Old High German wegan (to move), the Old English wegan (to move, carry, weigh), the Old Norse vaga (to sway, fluctuate), the Old English wagian (to sway, totter), the Proto-West Germanic wagōn, the German Woge (wave) and the Swedish våg.  A parallel development the Germanic forms was the Spanish boga (rowing) and the Old Italian voga (a rowing), from vogare (to row, sail), of unknown origin and the Italianate forms were probably some influence on the development of the verb.  Vogue, voguie & voguer are nouns (voguette an informal noun), voguing is a noun and adjective, vogued is a verb and vogueing & voguish are adjectives; the noun plural is vogues.  The noun voguie is a special use and is a synonym of fashionista ((1) one who creates or promotes high fashion (designers, editors, models, influencers etc) or (2) one who dresses according to the trends of fashion, or one who closely follows those trends).

All etymologists seem to concur the modern meaning is from the notion of being "borne along on the waves of fashion" and colloquially the generalized sense of "fashion, reputation" is probably from the same Germanic source.  The phrase “in vogue” (having a prominent place in popular fashion) was recorded as long ago as 1643.  The fashion magazine (now owned by Condé Nast) began publication in 1892 and young devotees of its advice (they are legion) are voguettes.  In linguistics, vogue words are those words & phrases which become suddenly (although not always neologisms) popular and fade from use or becoming clichéd or hackneyed forms (wardrobe malfunction; awesome; problematic; at this point in time; acid test; in this space; parameters; paradigm etc).  Because it’s so nuanced, vogue has no universal synonym but words which tend to the same meaning (and can in some circumstances be synonymous) include latest, mod, now, rage, chic, craze, currency, custom, fad, favor, mode, popularity, practice, prevalence, style, stylishness, thing, trend & usage.

Lindsay Lohan cover, Vogue (Spanish edition), August 2009.

In Regional English, "vogue" could mean "fog or mist" and in Cornwall, the hamlet of Vogue in the parish of St Day gained its name from the Medieval Cornish vogue (a word for a medieval smelting furnace (ie "blowing house", the places generating much smoke)); civilization contributing to the increase in atmospheric concentrations of greenhouse gasses is nothing new.  Clearly better acquainted with trademark law than geography, in early 2022 counsel for Condé Nast sent a C&D (cease and desist letter) to the inn-keeper of the village’s The Star Inn at Vogue pub, demanding the place change its name to avoid any public perception of a connection between the two businesses.  The owners of the venerable pub declined the request (cheekily suggesting they might send their own C&D to Vogue demanding the publication find a new name on the basis of usurpation (an old tort heard before the Court of Chivalry).  Condé Nast subsequently apologized, citing insufficient investigation by their staff, a framed copy of their letter hung on the pub's wall.  Honor apparently satisfied on both sides, the two Vogues resumed the peaceful co-existence which had prevailed since 1892. 

1981 Range Rover In Vogue from the first run with the standard stylized steel wheels (left) and a later 1981 In Vogue with the three-spoke aluminum units.

Much of the 1970s was spent in what to many felt like a recession, even if there were only some periods in some places during which the technical definition was fulfilled and the novel phenomenon of stagflation did disguise some of the effects.  Less affected than most (of course) were the rich who had discovered a new status-symbol, the Range Rover which, introduced in 1970 had legitimized (though there were earlier ventures) the idea of the "luxury" four-wheel-drive (4WD) segment although the interior of the original was very basic (the floor-coverings rubber mats rather than carpets on the assumption that, as with the even more utilitarian Land Rovers, there would be a need to "hose out" the mud accumulated from a day's HSF (huntin', shootin' & fishin')), the car’s reputation built more on it's then unique blend of competence on, and off-road.  So good was the Range Rover in both roles that owners, used to being cosseted in leather and walnut, wanted something closer to that to which they were accustomed and dealers received enquiries about an up-market version.

Lindsay Lohan at the opening of the Ninety years of Vogue covers exhibition, Crillon Hotel, Paris, 2009.

That had been Rover’s original intention.  The plan had been to release a basic version powered by four cylinder engines and a luxury edition with a V8 but by 1970 time and development funds had run out so the car was released with the V8 power-train and the more spartan interior although it was quickly apparent few owners took advantage of being able to hose out the mud.  Indeed, so skewed was the buyer profile to urban profiles it's likely the only time many ventured off the pavement was to find a good spot in the car parks of polo fields.  In something which must now seem remarkable, although already perceived as a "prestige" vehicle, for the first decade-odd, the Range Rover was not available with either air-conditioning or an automatic transmission.  However, if the rich were riding out the decade well, British Leyland (which owned Rover) was not and it lacked the capital to devote to the project.  Others took advantage of what proved a profitable niche and those with the money (or spending OPM (other people's money) could choose from a variety of limited-production and bespoke offerings including LWB (long-wheelbase) models, four-door conversions, six wheelers and even open-topped versions from a variety of coach-builders such as Wood & Pickett and low-volume manufacturers like Switzerland’s Monteverdi which anticipated the factory by a number of years with their four-door coachwork.

Rendez-vous à Biarritz, Vogue magazine, March 1981.  The eight page advertising supplement was for Lancôme and Jaeger fashion collections, the Wood & Pickett-trimmed Range Rover a "backdrop" which would prove a serendipitous piece of product placement. 

British Leyland was soon subject to one of the many re-organizations which would seek (without success) to make it a healthy corporation and one consequence was increased autonomy for the division making Range Rovers.  No longer compelled to subsidize less profitable arms of the business, attention was turned to the matter of a luxury model, demand for which clearly existed.  To test market reaction, in late 1980, the factory collaborated with Wood & Pickett to design a specially-equipped two-door model as a proof-of-concept exercise to gauge market reaction.  The prototype (HAC 414W) was lent to Vogue magazine, a crafty choice given the demographic profile of the readership and the by then well-known extent of women’s own purchasing power and influence on that of their husbands.  Vogue took the prototype to Biarritz to be the photographic backdrop for the images taken for the magazine’s co-promotion of the 1981 Lancôme and Jaeger fashion collections, published in an eight-page advertising spread entitled Rendez-vous à Biarritz in the March 1981 edition.  The response was remarkable and while Lancôme and Jaeger’s launch attracted polite attention, Vogue’s mailbox (which then received letters in envelopes with postage stamps) was overwhelmingly filled with enquiries about the blinged-up Range-Rover (although "bling" was a linguistic generation away from use).

Vogue's Range Rover In Vogue (HAC 414W) in Biarritz, 1981, all nuts on board or otherwise attached.  The model name was a play on words, Range Rovers very much "in vogue" and this particular version substantially the one "in Vogue".

Rover had expected demand to be strong and the reaction to the Vogue spread justified their decision to prepare for a production run even before publication and the Range Rover In Vogue went on sale early in 1981, the limited-edition run all closely replicating the photo-shoot car except for the special aluminum wheels which were not yet in volume production.  Amusingly, the triple-spoke wheels (similar to the design Ford had used on the 1979 (Fox) Mustang) had been a problem in Biarritz, the factory supplying the wrong lug nuts which had a tendency to fall off, meaning the staff travelling with the car had to check prior to each shoot to ensure five were present on each wheel which would appear in the picture.  Not until later in the year would the wheels be ready so the In Vogue’s went to market with the standard stylized steel units, meaning the brochures had to be pulped and reprinted with new photographs and some small print: "Alloy wheels, as featured on the vehicle used by Vogue magazine will be available at extra cost through Unipart dealers later in 1981".  British Leyland's record-keeping was at the time as chaotic as much of its administration so it remains unclear how many were built.  The factory said the run would be 1,000, all in right hand drive (RHD) but many left hand drive (LHD) examples exist and it’s thought demand from the continent was such another small batch was built although this has never been confirmed.  The In Vogue’s exclusive features were:

Light blue metallic paint (the model-exclusive Vogue Blue) with wide body stripes in two shades of grey (not black as on the prototype).
High compression (9.35:1) version of the V8 (to provide more torque).
Higher high-gear ratio (0.996:1) in the transfer box (to reduce engine speed and thus noise in highway driving).
Air conditioning
Varnished walnut door cappings.
Armrest between the front seats.
Map pockets on the back of the front seats (the rationale for not including the folding picnic tables so beloved by English coach-builders being the design of the Range Rover's rear tailgate had made it the "de-facto picnic table".
Fully carpeted luggage compartment.
Carpeted spare wheel cover and tool-kit curtain.
Picnic hamper.
Stainless steel tailgate cap.
Black wheel hub caps.

The "fitted picnic hamper".

Condé Nast would later describe the In Vogue’s custom picnic hamper as the car’s "pièce de résistance". which might have amused Rover's engineers who would have put some effort into stuff they'd have thought "substantive".  Now usually written in English as "piece de resistance" (masterpiece; the most memorable accomplishment of one’s career or lifetime; one's magnum opus (great work)), the French phrase pièce de résistance (literally the "piece which has staying power") seems first to have appeared in English in Richard Cumberland (1732–1811) novel Arundel (1789).  One can see the writer's point.  Although the walnut, additional torque and certainly the air conditioning would have been selling points, like nothing else, the picnic hamper would have delighted the target market.

Demand for the In Vogue far exceeded supply and additional production runs quickly were scheduled.  In response to customer demand, the most frequently made request was acceded to, the second series available with Chrysler's robust TorqueFlite automatic transmission, introduced at the same time as the debut of a four-door version, another popular enquiry while the three-spoke wheels became standard equipment and equipment levels continued to rise, rear-head restraints fitted along with a much enhanced sound-system.  In what was perhaps a nod to the wisdom of the magazine's editors, although a cooler replaced the hamper for the second run, for the third, buyers received both cooler and hamper.  The third series, launched in conjunction with the Daks autumn fashion collection at Simpson's of Piccadilly, included a digital radio, the convenience of central locking and the almost unnoticed addition of front mud flaps so clearly there was an understanding that despite the Range Rover's well deserved reputation as a "Chelsea taxi", the things did sometimes see the mud and ladies didn't like the stuff getting on their dresses as they alighted.  In 1984, as "Vogue", it became the regular production top-of-the-range model and for many years served in this role although, for licencing reasons, when sole in the US it was called the "Country").  For both companies, the In Vogue and subsequent Vogues turned out to be the perfect symbiosis.

Art and Engineering

Vogue, January 1925, cover art by Georges Lepape.

From the start, Vogue (the magazine) was of course about frocks, shoes and such but its influence extended over the years to fields as diverse as interior decorating and industrial design.  The work of Georges Lepape (1887-1971) has long been strangely neglected in the history of art deco but he was a fine practitioner whose reputation probably suffered because his compositions habitually were regarded as derivative or imitative which seems unfair given there are many who are more highly regarded despite being hardly original.  His cover art for Vogue’s edition of 1 January 1925 juxtaposed one of French artist Sonia Delaunay’s (1885–1979) "simultaneous" pattern dresses and a Voisin roadster decorated with an art deco motif.

1927 Voisin C14 Lumineuse.

One collector in 2015 was so taken with Pepape’s image that when refurbishing his 1927 Voisin C14 Lumineuse (literally “light”, an allusion to the Voisin’s greenhouse-inspired design which allowed natural light to fill the interior), he commissioned Dutch artist Bernadette Ramaekers to hand-paint a geometric triangular pattern in sympathy with that on the Vogue cover in 1925.  Ms Ramaekers took six months to complete the project and when sold at auction in London in 2022, it realized Stg£202,500.  There are few designers as deserving of such a tribute as French aviation pioneer Gabriel Voisin (1880–1973) who made military aircraft during the First World War (1914-1918) and, under the name Avions Voisin, produced a remarkable range of automobiles between 1919-1939, encapsulating thus the whole inter-war period and much of the art deco era.  Because his designs were visually so captivating, much attention has always been devoted to his lines, curves and shapes but the underlying engineering was also interesting although some of his signature touches, like the (briefly in vogue) sleeve valve engine, proved a mirage.

Voisin's extraordinary visions:  1934 C27 Aérosport (left), 1934-1935 Voisin C25 Aérodynes (centre) & 1931 C20 Mylord Demi Berline (right).

Also a cul-de-sac was his straight-12 engine.  Slow-running straight-12 (there is even a straight-14 which displaces 25,340 litres (1,546,000 cubic inches) and produces 107,290 hp (80,080 kW)) engines are known at sea where they’re used in (very) big ships but on the road (apart from some less than successful military vehicles), only Voisin and Packard ever attempted them, the former making two, the latter, one.  Voisin’s concept was simple enough; it was two straight-6s joined together, end-on-end, the same idea many had used to make things like V12s (2 x V6s) straight-8s (2 x straight-4s) H16s (two flat-8s, one atop another) and even V24s (2 x V12s) but the sheer length of a straight-12 in a car presented unique problems in packaging and the management of the torsional vibrations induced by the elongated crankshaft.  Straight-12s were built for use in aircraft (Bristol's Type 25 Braemar II in 1919 using four of them!) where the attraction was the aerodynamic advantage conferred by the small frontal area but as engine speeds increased in the 1920s, so did the extent of the problem of crankshaft flex and the concept was never revived.

1934 Voisin C15 Saloit Roadster (left) and the one-off Packard straight-12, scrapped when the decision was taken not to proceed to production (right).

The length of the straight-12 meant an extraordinary amount of the vehicle’s length had to be devoted to housing just the engine and that resulted in a high number for what designers call the dash-to-axle ratio.  That was one of the many reasons the straight-12 never came into vogue and indeed was one of the factors which doomed the straight-8, a configuration which at least had some redeeming features.  Voisin must however have liked the appearance of the long hood (bonnet) because the striking C15 Saloit Roadster (which could have accommodated a straight-12) was powered by a straight-4, a sleeve valve Knight of 2500 cm³ (153 cubic inch).  The performance doubtlessly didn’t live up to the looks but so sensuous were those looks that many would forgive the lethargy.  The concept of a short engine in a lengthy compartment was revived by Detroit in the 1960s & 1970s, many of the truly gargantuan full-sized sedans and coupes built with elongated front & rear structures.  At the back, the cavernous trunks (boots) often could swallow four sets of gold clubs which would have had some appeal to the target market but much of the space under the hood was unused.  While large enough to accommodate a V16, the US industry hadn't made those since the last of the Cadillac V16s left the line in 1940 after a ten-year run.  While one of the reasons the V8 had supplanted the straight-8 was its relatively compact length, that virtue wasn't needed by the late 1950s when, in all directions, the sheet-metal grew well beyond what was required by the mechanical components, the additional size just for visual impact to enhance the perception of prestige and luxury in an era when bigger was better.  Dramatic though the look could be (witness the 1969 Pontiac Grand Prix), the packaging efficiency was shockingly wasteful.

The Dart which never was

Using one of his signature outdoor settings, Norman Parkinson (1913-1990) photographed model Suzanne Kinnear (b 1935) adorning a Daimler SP250, wearing a Kashmoor coat and Otto Lucas beret with jewels by Cartier.

The image appeared on the cover (left) of Vogue's UK edition in November 1959, the original's (right) color being "enhanced" in the Vogue pre-production editing tradition (women thinner, cars shinier).  The "wide" whitewall tyres were a thing at the time, even on sports cars and were a popular option on US market Jaguar E-Types (there (unofficially) called XK-E or XKE) in the early 1960s.  The car on the Vogue cover was XHP 438, built on prototype chassis 100002 at Compton Verney in 1959; it's the oldest surviving SP250, the other two prototypes (chassis 100000 & 100001 from 1958) dismantled when testing was completed.  XHP 438 was the factory's press demonstrator and was used in road tests by Motor and Autocar magazines before being re-furbished (motoring journalists subjecting the press fleet to a brief but hard life) and sold.  Uniquely, when XPH 438 was first registered in England, it was as a "Daimler Dart".

More Issues Than Vogue sweatshirt from Impressions.

There was however an issue with the "Dart" name.  The SP250 was first shown to the public at the 1959 New York Motor Show and there the problems began.  Aware the little sports car was quite a departure from the luxurious but rather staid line-up Daimler had for years offered, the company had chosen the pleasingly alliterative “Dart” as its name, hoping it would convey the sense of something agile and fast.  Unfortunately, Chrysler’s lawyers were faster still, objecting that they had already registered Dart as the name for a full-sized Dodge so Daimler needed a new name and quickly; the big Dodge would never be confused with the little Daimler but the lawyers insisted.  Imagination apparently exhausted, Daimler’s management reverted to the engineering project name and thus the car became the SP250 which was innocuous enough even for Chrysler's attorneys and it could have been worse.  Dodge had submitted their Dart proposal to Chrysler for approval and while the car found favor, the name did not and the marketing department was told to conduct research and come up with something the public would like.  From this the marketing types gleaned that “Dodge Zipp” would be popular and to be fair, dart and zip(p) do imply much the same thing but ultimately the original was preferred and Darts remained in Dodge’s lineup until 1976, for most of that time one of the corporation's best-selling and most profitable lines.  Cynically, the name was between 2012-2016 revived for an unsuccessful and unlamented FWD (front-wheel-drive) compact sedan.

Anagoge

Anagoge (pronounced an-uh-goh-jee)

(1) The spiritual or mystical interpretation of a word or passage beyond the literal, allegorical or moral sense (especially in Biblical criticism); A form of allegorical interpretation of Scripture that seeks hidden meanings regarding the future life.

(2) A spiritual interpretation or application of words (following the tradition with the Scriptures.

(3) In psychology, deriving from, pertaining to, or reflecting the moral or idealistic striving of the unconscious.

(4) The mystical interpretation or hidden sense of words.

1350-1400: From the Middle English anagoge, from the Late Latin anagōgē, from the Medieval Latin anagōgia & anagogicus from the Ancient Greek ἀναγωγή (anagōgḗ) (elevation; an uplifting; spiritual or mystical enlightenment), the construct being an- (up) + agōgḗ (feminine of agōgós) (leading), from anagein (to lead up, lift up), the construct being ana- (up) + agein (to lead, put in motion) from the primitive Indo-European root ag- (to drive, draw out or forth, move).  In theology, the adjective anagogical was from the early sixteenth century the more commonly used form, explaining the ways in which passages from Scripture had a “secondary, spiritual sense”.  The idea of a “spiritual, hidden, allegorical or mystical meaning” spread to literature and other fields where it operates as a special form of allegorical interpretation.  The alternative spelling is anagogy.  Anagoge is a noun, anagogic & anagogical are adjectives and anagogically is an adverb; the noun plural is anagoges.

Portrait of Percy Bysshe Shelley at the Baths of Caracalla, depicted writing Prometheus Unbound, oil on canvas, painted posthumously Joseph Severn (1793–1879), Rome, Italy, 1845.

In literary analysis, there does seem a fondness for classifying methods into groups of fours.  Thomas Love Peacock (1785–1866) was an English novelist and poet but despite a background in literature and little else, through family connections he was in 1819 appointed an administrator in the East India Company (which “sort of” ran British India in the years before the Raj).  It was an example of the tradition of “amateurism” much admired by the British establishment, something which didn’t survive the harsher economic realities of the late twentieth century although some still affect the style.  Despite being untrained in such matters, his career with the company was long and successful so he must have had a flair for the business although his duties were not so onerous as to preclude him from continuing to write both original compositions and works of literary analysis.  In 1820 he published Four Ages of Poetry which was regarded as a “provocative” and although a serious critique, the tone was whimsical, poetry classified into four periods: iron, gold, silver & brass.  His friend Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822) understood the satire but seems to have been appalled anyone would treat his art with such flippancy, quickly penning the retaliatory essay Defence of Poetry although the text was unfinished and remained unpublished until 1840, almost two decades after his death.  It’s remembered now for its final sentence: “Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.”  With that, the few thousand souls on the planet who buy (and presumably read) poetry collections might concur but for the many more who can’t tell the difference between a masterpiece and trite doggerel, it may sound either a conceit or a threat.

Peacock not treating poets and their oeuvre which what they believed was due reverence left a mark and while Shelly died before he could finish his reply, more than a century later the English poet & academic literary I.A. Richards (1893–1979) in Science and Poetry (1926) still was moved to defend the poetic turf.  Although approvingly quoting the words of English poet (and what would now be called a “social commentator”) Matthew Arnold (1822–1888): “The future of poetry is immense, because in poetry, where it is worthy of its high destinies, our race, as time goes on, will find an ever surer and surer stay.  There is not a creed which is not shaken, not an accredited dogma which is not shown to be questionable, not a received tradition which does not threaten to dissolve.  Our religion has materialized itself in the fact, in the supposed fact; it has attached its emotion to the fact, and now the fact is failing it.  But for poetry the idea is everything.”, he nevertheless admitted “Extraordinary claims have often been made for poetry…”  Tellingly too, he acknowledged those claims elicited from many “astonishment” and the “more representative modern view” of the future of poetry would be that it’s “nil”.  Modern readers could decide for themselves whether that was as bleak as Peacock’s conclusion: “A poet in our times is a semi-barbarian in a civilized community.  He lives in the days that are past... In whatever degree poetry is cultivated, it must necessarily be to the neglect of some branch of useful study and it is a lamentable thing to see minds, capable of better things, tunning to seed in the spacious indolence of these empty aimless mockeries of intellectual exertion.”  Take that poets.

Peacock's second novel was the Regency-era three volume novel Melincourt (1817).  It was an ambitious work which explored issues as diverse as slavery, aspects of democracy and potential for currency destabilization inherent in the issue of paper money.  Another theme was the matter of differentiating between human beings and other animals, a central character being Sir Oran Haut-ton, an exquisitely mannered, musically gifted orangutan standing for election to the House of Commons.  The idea was thus of “an animal mimicking humanity” and the troubled English mathematician Dr Alan Turing (1912–1954) read Melincourt in 1948, some twelve months before he published a paper which included his “imitation game” (which came to be called the “Turing test”).  Turing was interested in “a machine mimicking humanity” and what the test involved was a subject reading the transcript of a natural-language conversation between a human and a machine, the object being to guess which interlocutor was the machine.  The test was for decades an element in AI (artificial intelligence) research and work on “natural language” computer interfaces but the field became a bit of a minefield because it was so littered with words like “feelings”, learning”, “thinking” and “consciousness”, the implications of which saw many a tangent followed.  Of course, by the 2020s the allegation bots like ChatGPT and character.ai have been suggesting their interlocutors commit suicide means it may be assumed that, at least for some subjects, the machine may have assumed a convincing human-like demeanour.  The next great step will be in the matter of thinking, feelings and consciousness when bio-computers are ready to be tested.  Bio-computers are speculative hybrids which combine what digital hardware is good at (storage, retrieval, computation etc) with a biological unit emulating a brain (good at thinking, imagining and, maybe, attaining self-awareness and thus consciousness).

Westminster Bridge And Abbey (1813), oil on canvas by William Daniell (1769–1837).

There’s more than one way to read Richards and it may be tacitly he accepted poetry had become something which would be enjoyed by an elite while others could spend their lives in ignorance of its charms, citing the sonnet Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 by William Wordsworth (1770–1850) as an experience for “the right kind of reader”.  So there it is: those who don’t enjoy poetry are the “wrong” kind of reader so to help the “right kind of reader”, Richards also came up with a foursome.  In Practical Criticism (1929) he listed the “four different meanings in a poem”: (1) the sense (what actually is said, (2) feeling (the writer's emotional attitude to what they have written), (3) tone (the writer's attitude towards their reader and (4) intention (the writer's purpose, the effect they seek to achieve).

A vision from Dante's Inferno: The Fifth Circle (1587) by Stradanus (1523-1605)), depicting Virgil and Dante on the River Styx in the fifth circle of Hell where the wrathful are for eternity condemned to splash around on the surface, fighting each other.  Helping the pair cross is the infernal ferryman Phlegyas.  Stradanus was one of the many names under which the Flemish artist Jan van der Straet painted, the others including Giovanni della Strada, Johannes della Strada, Giovanni Stradano, Johannes Stradano, Giovanni Stradanus, Johannes Stradanus, Jan van Straeten & Jan van Straten.

In literary theory, anagoge is one the classic “four levels of meaning” and while there is no consensus about the origins of the four, it’s clear there was an awareness of them manifest in the Middle Ages.  It was Dante (Dante Alighieri (circa 1265–1321)) in his Epistola a Cangrande (Epistle XIII to Cangrande della Scala (described usually as Epistle to Cangrande)) who most clearly explained the operation of the four.  Written in Latin sometime before 1343, the epistle was the author’s letter to his patron Cangrande della Scala (1291–1329), an Italian aristocrat and scion of the family which ruled Verona between 1308-1387; it was a kind of executive summary of the Divina Commedia (Divine Comedy (circa 1310-1321)) and an exposition of its structure.  Dante suggested the work could be analysed in four ways which he distinguished as (1) the literal or historical meaning, (2) the moral meaning, and (3) the allegorical meaning and (4) the anagogical.

Among scholars of Dante the epistle is controversial, not for the content but the matter of authenticity, not all agreeing it was the author who wrote the text, the academic factions dividing thus: (1) Dante wrote it all, (2) Dante wrote none of it and (3) Dante wrote the dedication to his patron but the rest of the text is from the hand of another and it’s left open whether that content reflected the thoughts of Dante as expressed to the mysterious scribe or it was wholly the creation of the “forger”.  Even AI (artificial intelligence) tools have been used (a textual analysis of the epistle, Divine Comedy and other material verified to have been written by Dante) and while the process produced a “probability index”, the findings seemed not to shift factional alignments.  Dante’s authorship is of course interesting but the historical significance of the “four levels of meaning” concept endures in literary theory regardless of the source.

First edition of The Pilgrim's Progress (1678) by John Bunyan (1628–1688).

So the critics agreed the anagogical meaning of a text was its spiritual, hidden, or mystical meaning so anagoge (or anagogy) was a special form of allegorical interpretation.  Whether it should be thought a subset or fork of allegory did in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries trouble some who argued the anagogue was a wholly separate layer of meaning if the subject was biblical or otherwise religious but merely a type of allegorical interpretation if applied to something secular; that’s a debate unlikely to be staged now.  However, given the apparent overlap between anagogical and allegorical, just which should be used may seem baffling, especially if the work to which the concept is being applied has a religious flavor.  There is in the Bible much allegory (something which seems sometimes lost on the latter-day literalists among the US Republican Party’s religious right-wing) but only some can be said truly to be anagogic and although the distinction can at the margins become blurred, that’s true also of other devotional literature.  The distinction is more easily observed of less abstract constructions such John Bunyan in The Pilgrim's Progress calling his protagonist “Christian”, the choice not merely a name but symbolic of the Christian soul’s journey to salvation, hinted at by the book’s full title being The Pilgrim's Progress from This World, to That Which Is to Come.  For something to be judged anagogical, the text needs to look beyond the literal and moral senses to its ultimate, transcendent, or eschatological significance, illustrated by applying the four-fold technique (literal, moral, allegorical & anagogical) to the biblical description of Jerusalem which deconstructs as: (1) Literal (the actual physical city in history), (2) Allegorical (the Church), (3) Moral (the soul striving to find a path to God and (4) Anagogical (the heavenly Jerusalem, the final destiny of those humanity who kept the faith).  The point of the anagoge was thus one of ultimate destiny or divine fulfilment: heaven, salvation, forgiveness and eternal life.

That does not however mean the anagogical is of necessity teleological.  Teleology was from the New Latin teleologia a construct from the Ancient Greek τέλος (télos) (purpose; end, goal, result) genitive τέλεος (téleos) (end; entire, perfect, complete) + λόγος (lógos) (word, speech, discourse).  In philosophy, it was the study of final causes; the doctrine that final causes exist; the belief that certain phenomena are best explained in terms of purpose rather than cause (a moral theory that maintains that the rightness or wrongness of actions solely depends on their consequences is called a teleological theory).  The implications which could be found in that attracted those in fields as diverse as botany & zoology (interested in the idea purpose is a part of or is apparent in nature) and creationists (anxious to find evidence of design or purpose in nature and especially prevalent in the cult of ID (intelligent design), a doctrine which hold there is evidence of purpose or design in the universe and especially that this provides proof of the existence of a designer (ie how to refer to God without using the “G-word”)).  Rationalists (and even some who were somewhere on the nihilism spectrum) accepted the way the phrase was used in philosophy & biology but thought the rest weird.  It was fine to accept Aristotle’s (384-322 BC) point the eye exists for the purpose of allowing creatures to see or that it’s reasonable to build a theory like utilitarianism which judges actions by the outcomes or goals achieved but to suggest what is life of earth is an end, purpose, or goal which can be explained only as the work of a “creator” was ultimately just “making stuff up”.  So to reductionists (1) the allegorical was “means something else”, (2) the anagogical was “points upward to our ultimate spiritual destiny” and (3) the teleological was “explained by its end or purpose”.

Anagoge (pronounced an-uh-goh-jee) should not be confused with Anna Gogo (pronounced an-uh-goh-goh, left), a chartered engineer at Red Earth Engineering or Anna Go-Go (pronounced an-uh-goh-goh, right), persona of the proprietor of Anna's Go-Go Academy (a go-go dancing school).  Ms Go-Go is also a self-described “crazy cat lady” and the author of Cat Lady Manifesto (2024); she is believed to be high on J.D. Vance’s (b 1984; US vice president since 2025) enemies list.  Note the armchair's doilies, a cat lady favorite.

Anna & Gogomobil TS 250.

There is also Anna's Gogo which is "Anna explaining the Goggomobil TS 250 Coupé” (in Russian).  The TS 250 was a version of the Goggomobil two-door sedan, one of the many “microcars” that emerged in post-war Europe.  First displayed in 1954 by Bavaria-based Hans Glas GmbH of Dingolfing, the Goggomobil T 250 sedan was about as conventional in appearance as microcars got and its configuration (RWD (rear-wheel-drive) with a rear-mounted 245 cm³, air-cooled parallel twin engine) was not unusual, the economy of production made possible by adapting for four (sometime three) wheeled use mechanical components from motor-cycles.  Although rising prosperity, increased average road-speeds and safety concerns ultimately doomed the sector (in its original form although it survived in an urban niche and there’s been something of a modern revival), more than 200,000 of the little sedans (some with displacements a large as 392 cm³ which can be thought of (loosely) as the “muscle car” or “big block” version) manufactured, production finally ending in 1969.

Glas publictity shot for 1955 Gogomobil T 250 (left) and 1957 Googlemobile TS 250 Coupé (right).

The TS coupé appeared three years after the sedan and used the formula which for more than a century has proved profitable for the industry: Take the platform of a prosaic, mass-market car and drape atop a “more stylish and sporty” body, sometimes with (a little) more power and always a higher price.  The approach was in 1964 exemplified by the original Ford Mustang but the TS 250 was unusual in that to achieve the desired style, the coupé was actually longer than the sedan (3,035 mm (119.5 inches) vs 2,900 mm (114.2 inches) but describing the accommodation as “2+2” was more accurate to modern eyes than the “full four-seater” claim attached to the sedan although, in the era, it wasn’t unusual for families of five or more to be crammed inside.  Like the sedans, the coupés were offered in “muscle car spec” and on the Autobahns, if given long enough and without too many aboard, over 100 km/h (60 mph) was possible.

1959 Gogomobil Dart.

The platform also provided the underpinnings for the quirkiest of the breed, the Goggomobil Dart a fibreglass-bodied “microcar roadster” developed in Australia, with what seems now a remarkable 700-odd sold between 1959 to 1961.  Even when using the “big 392” (not to be confused with the 392 cubic inch (6.4 litre) Chrysler Hemi V8 which in the US had just ended production), it wasn’t “fast” but, weighing only 345 kg (761 lb), with a small frontal area and what was at the time industry-leading aerodynamic efficiency, it was lively enough in urban use and, on short circuits, some even appeared in competition.  The slippery lines however, while adding a little to top speed, hadn't benefited from wind-tunnel testing to ensure downforce was sufficient for high speed stability and even at around the 70 mph (110 km/h) the specially tuned versions could reach on race tracks, the drivers reported "front-end lift" and unpredictable directional stability.  All things considered, it was probably just as well the factory stopped at 392 cm³.  

Gogo Anime.

GogoAnime is an online streaming site for anime and related TV content (the distinction between the genres escapes most but it's well-established so must be real) which maintains a large library of anime content “ranging from classic titles to the latest releases” and for international audiences offers both “dubbed” (voice in various languages) and “subbed” (on-screen sub-titles in various languages) versions although there's a sub-set of “hard-core” aficionados for whom that will mean little because they know the best way to watch anime is with the sound muted.  Reviewers of GogoAnime praise its “intuitive and user-friendly interface” which makes streaming an effortless experience and it does appear the more disturbing anime content (much of which is available on physical media “off the shelf” in Japanese convenience stores) isn’t hosted.  The lawfulness of GogoAnime offering “free streaming” of commercially released product seems murky so gogo-scrapers should probably stream while they still can.

Although long in the toolbox of theologians & Biblical scholars, anagogical analysis became an element for critics of poetry and, as the post-modernists taught us, everything is text so it can be applied to anything.  One case-study popular in teaching was George Orwell’s (1903-1950) Animal Farm (1945) and that’s because there’s a interesting C&C (compare & contrast) exercise in working out the anagoge first in Orwell’s original book and then in the film versions distributed in post-war Europe, the fun in that being the film rights were purchased by the US CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) which prevailed upon the makers to alter the ending so the capitalist class didn’t look so bad.  By conventional four-way analysis, Animal Farm traditionally is broken down as (1) Literal meaning: A tale of the revolt of the animals against their human overlords, and the outcome of that revolt, (2) Moral meaning: Power tends to corrupt'; (c) Allegorical meaning: Major=comrade Lenin; Napoleon=comrade Stalin; Snowball=Comrade Trotsky; Jones=corrupt capitalist owners of the means of production & distribution.

The Canyons, Cinema Poster.

Although theologians and literary critics alike prefer to apply their analytical skills to material densely packed with obscure meanings and passages impenetrable to most, their techniques yield results with just about any text, even something as deliberately flat and affectless like The Canyons (Paul Schrader’s (b 1946) film of 2013 with a screenplay by Bret Easton Ellis (b 1964)) one intriguing aspect of which was naming a central character “Christian” although unlike Bunyan’s (1628–1688) worthy protagonist seeking salvation in The Pilgrim's Progress, Ellis’s creation was an opportunistic, nihilistic, manipulative sociopath.  The author seems never to have discussed any link between the two Christians, one on a path to salvation, the other mid-descent into a life of drugs, sex, and violence.  It may be it was just too mischievously tempting to borrow the name of one of Christendom’s exemplars of redemption and use it for so figure so totally amoral and certainly it was a fit with the writer’s bleak view of Hollywood.  Structurally, the parallels were striking, Bunyan’s Christian trekking from the City of Destruction to Celestial City whereas Ellis has his character not seeking salvation but remaining in Hollywood on his own path of destruction, affecting both those around him and ultimately him too.  In interviews, Ellis said he chose the name after reading the E. L. James (b 1963) novel Fifty Shades of Grey (2011) in which Christian Grey was a central character and The Canyons does share more contemporary cultural touch-points with the novel than with Bunyan’s work.

A Lindsay Lohan GIF from The Canyons.

(1) Literal or Historical Meaning (a trust-fund movie producer exercises control over his girlfriend while being entangled in transactional and destructive relationships with others in a decadent Hollywood; (2) Moral Meaning: Christian’s controlling, voyeuristic cruelty and his girlfriend’s compromises illustrate the corrosion of moral agency induced by narcissism and a superficial, consumerist culture); (3) Allegorical Meaning (The Canyons is built as a microcosm of what Hollywood is imagined to be, Christian representing the ruthless producer; Tara the girlfriend as the powerless talent unable to escape from a web of exploitation and other characters as collateral damage.  The shuttered cinemas in inter-cut shots serve as allegory for the death of cinema, replaced by shallow, formulaic “product”; the film ultimately less about the two-dimensional characters than the descent of a culture to a moral wasteland and (4) Anagogical Meaning (The film is an eschatology of cultural decay; art corrupted by money, leaving something alive but spiritually dead, something which some choose to map onto late-stage capitalism sustained by atomized, voyeuristic consumption with human life cast adrift from moral responsibility or even its recognition).  Of course for moral theologians accustomed to dancing on the heads of pins, an anagogical viewing of The Canyons might allow one to see some hint of something redemptive and the more optimistic might imagine it as a kind of warning of what may be rather than what is, encouraging us to resist in the hope of transcendence.  That’s quite a hope for a place depicted as owing something to what’s found in Dante’s nine circles.

Hardtop, Hard Top & Hard-top

Hardtop & Hard Top or Hard-Top ( pronounced hahrd-top)

(1) In automotive design, as hardtop, a design in which no centre post (B-pillar) is used between the front and rear windows.

(2) As "hard top" or "hard top", a rigid, removable or retractable roof used on convertible cars (as distinct from the historically more common folding, soft-top).

(3) Mid twentieth-century US slang for an indoor cinema with a roof (as opposed to a drive-in).

1947-1949: A compound of US origin, hard + top.  Hard was from the Middle English hard, from the Old English heard, from the Proto-West Germanic hard(ī), from the Proto-Germanic harduz, from the primitive Indo-European kort-ús, from kret- (strong, powerful).  It was cognate with the German hart, the Swedish hård, the Ancient Greek κρατύς (kratús), the Sanskrit क्रतु (krátu) and the Avestan xratu.  Top was from the Middle English top & toppe, from the Old English top (top, highest part; summit; crest; tassel, tuft; (spinning) top, ball; a tuft or ball at the highest point of anything), from the Proto-Germanic tuppaz (braid, pigtail, end), from the primitive Indo-European dumb- (tail, rod, staff, penis).  It was cognate with the Scots tap (top), the North Frisian top, tap & tup (top), the Saterland Frisian Top (top), the West Frisian top (top), the Dutch top (top, summit, peak), the Low German Topp (top), the German Zopf (braid, pigtail, plait, top), the Swedish topp (top, peak, summit, tip) and the Icelandic toppur (top).

1970 Imperial LeBaron four-door hardtop (from Chrysler's so-called "fuselage" line).

Although the origins of the body-style can be traced to the early twentieth century, the hardtop, a two or four-door car without a central (B-pillar) post, became a recognizable model type in the late 1940s and, although never the biggest seller, was popular in the United States until the mid 1970s when down-sizing and safety legislation led to their extinction, the last being the full sized Chrysler lines of 1978.  European manufacturers too were drawn to the style and produced many coupes but only Mercedes-Benz and Facel Vega made four-door hardtops in any number, the former long maintaining several lines of hardtop coupés.

1965 Lincoln Continental four-door sedan (with centre (B) pillar).

The convention of use is that the fixed roofed vehicles without the centre (B)-pillars are called a hardtop whereas a removable or retractable roof for a convertible is either a hard top or, somewhat less commonly a hard-top.  The folding fabric roof is either a soft top or soft-top, both common forms; the word softtop probably doesn't exist although it has been used by manufacturers of this and that to describe various "tops" made of stuff not wholly solid.  In the mid-1990s, the decades-old idea of the folding metal roof was revived as an alternative to fabric.  The engineering was sound but some manufacturers have reverted to fabric, the advantages of solid materials outweighed by the drawbacks of weight, cost and complexity.  A solid, folding top is usually called a retractable roof or folding hard-top.

1957 Ford Fairlane Skyliner.

Designers had toyed with the idea of the solid retractable roof early in the twentieth century, and patents were applied for in the 1920s but the applications were allowed to lapse and it wouldn't be until 1932 one was granted in France, the first commercial release by Peugeot in 1934.  Other limited-production cars followed but it wasn't until 1957 one was sold in any volume, Ford's Fairlane Skyliner, using a system Ford developed but never used for the Continental Mark II (1956-1957) was an expensive top-of-the range model for two years.  It was expensive for a reason: the complexity of the electric system which raised and lowered the roof.  A marvel of what was still substantially the pre-electronic age, it used an array of motors, relays and switches, all connected with literally hundreds of feet of electrical cables in nine different colors.  Despite that, the system was reliable and could, if need be, be fixed by any competent auto-electrician who had the wiring schematic.  In its two-year run, nearly fifty-thousand were built.  The possibilities of nomenclature are interesting too.  With the hard top in place, the Skyliner becomes also a hardtop because there's no B pillar so it's a "hardtop" with a "hard-top", something only word-nerds note. 

2005 Mercedes-Benz SLK55 AMG with retractable metal roof.

After 1960, the concept was neglected, re-visited only by a handful of low-volume specialists or small production runs for the Japanese domestic market.  The car which more than any other turned the retractable roof into a mainstream product was the 1996 Mercedes-Benz SLK which began as a show car, the favorable response encouraging production.  Successful, over three generations, it was in the line-up for almost twenty-five years.

Roof-mounted hard-top hoist: Mercedes-Benz 560 SL (R107).

The Fairlane Skyliner's top was notable for another reason: size and weight.  On small roadsters, even when made from steel, taking off and putting on a hard-top could usually be done by someone of reasonable strength, the task made easier still if the thing instead was made from aluminum or fibreglass.  If large and heavy, it became impossible for one and difficult even for two; some of even the smaller hard-tops (such as the Triumph Stag and the R107 Mercedes SL roadster) were famous heavyweights.  Many owners used trolley or ceiling-mounted hoists, some even electric but not all had the space, either for the hardware or the detached roof.

1962 Pontiac Catalina convertible with Riveria "Esquire" Series 300 hard-top.  Note the fake landau irons.

No manufacturer attempted a retractable hard-top on the scale of the big Skyliner but at least one aftermarket supplier thought there might be demand for something large and detachable.  Riveria Inc, based in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, offered them between 1963-1964 for the big (then called full or standard-size) General Motors (GM) convertibles.  Such was GM’s production-line standardization, the entire range of models, spread over three years and five divisions (Chevrolet, Buick, Oldsmobile, Pontiac & Cadillac) and three years, could be covered by just three variations (in length) of hard-top.  Made from fibreglass with an external texture which emulated leather, weight was a reasonable 80 lb (30 kg) but the sheer size rendered them unmanageable for many and not all had storage for such a bulky item, the growth of the American automobile meaning garages accommodative but a few years earlier were now cramped.    

1962 Chevrolet Impala SS (Super Sport) convertible with Riveria "Esquire" Series 100 hard-top.

Riveria offered their basic (100 series) hard-top in black or white, a more elaborately textured model (200 series) finished in gold or silver while the top of the range (300 series) used the same finishes but with simulated “landau” irons.  No modification was required to the car, the roof attaching to the standard convertible clamps, the soft-top remaining retracted.  Prices started at US$295 and the company seems to have attempted to interest GM's dealers in offering the hard-tops as a dealer-fitter accessory but corporate interest must have been as muted as buyer response, Riveria ceasing operations in 1964.

1935 MG NB Magnette “Faux Cabriolet” on Triple-M chassis (chassis number NA0801).  The body is believed the work of an unknown Irish coach-builder.

Lest it be thought Riveria adding fake landau bars to their fibreglass hard-tops was typical American vulgarity, across the Atlantic, their use as a decorative accouterment was not unknown.  Most of the 738 MG N-type Magnettes (1934-1936) were bodied as roadsters or DHCs (drop head coupé, a style understood in Europe as a cabriolet and in the US as a convertible) and while coach-builders like Carbodies and Allingham did a few with enclosed bodywork, chassis NA0801 is the only known “Faux Cabriolet” and it would be more rapid than many because the 1271 cm³ (78 cubic inch) SOHC (single overhead camshaft) straight-six has been fitted with a side-mounted Marshall 87 supercharger.  While the combination of that many cylinders and a small displacement sounds curious, the configuration was something of an English tradition and a product of (1) a taxation system based on cylinder bore and (2) the attractive economies of scale and production line rationalization of “adding two cylinders” to existing four-cylinder units to achieve greater, smoother power with the additional benefit of retaining the same tax-rate.  Even after the taxation system was changed, some small-capacity sixes were developed as out-growths of fours.  Despite the additional length of the engine block, many N-type Magnettes were among the few front-engined cars to include a “frunk” (a front trunk (boot)), a small storage compartment which sat between cowl (scuttle) and engine.

1935 MG NB Magnette “Faux Cabriolet”.

The scalloped shape of the front seats' squabs appeared also in the early (3.8 litre version; 1961-1964) Jaguar E-Types (1961-1974) but attractive as they were, few complained when they were replaced by a more prosaic but also more accommodating design.  The lengths of rope fitted just behind the door frames were for years these were known as “assist straps”, there to aid those exiting and while not needed by the young or still agile, were a help to many.  When implemented as a rigid fitting, they were known (unambiguously) as “grab handles” but in the US in the 1970s they were sometimes advertised as “Lavaliere straps”.  Lavaliere was a term from jewellery design which described a pendant (typically with a single stone) suspended from a necklace, the style named after Françoise-Louise de La Baume Le Blanc, Duchess of La Vallière and Vaujours (1644–1710) who was, between 1661-1667 (a reasonable run in such a profession), the mistress of Louis XIV (1638–1715; le Roi Soleil (the Sun King), King of France 1643-1715).  It’s said the adaptation of her name for the pendants was based on the frequency with which the accessories appeared in her many portraits.

Cadillac Hearse based on 1987 Cadillac Brougham (used in the Lindsay Lohan film Machete (2010), left), 1964 Alvis TE21 DHC (drophead coupé) by Park Ward (centre) and 1938 Mercedes-Benz 540K Cabriolet C by Sindelfingen (right).

The landau irons (which some coach-builders insist should be called “carriage bars”) on the rear side-panels emulate in style (though not function) those used on horse-drawn carriages and early automobiles (the last probably the Mercedes-Benz 300 (the “Adenauer”; W186 (1951-1957) & W189 (1957-1962)) Cabriolet D.  On those vehicles, the irons actually supported the folding mechanism but as a decorative device they proved useful those hearses not fitted with rear side-windows, existing to relieve the slab-sidedness of the expanse of flat metal.  That may have been the rationale of the MG’s Irish coach-builder (or his customer) and the bulk of the fabric on the soft-top of the Alvis TE21 (above, centre) illustrates why the visual effect on larger convertibles with no rear side-windows displeased some.

1967 Ford Thunderbird sedan: it’s a strange look without the vinyl roof and would be more bizarre still without fake landau irons.

When for 1967 Ford replaced the convertible version of the Thunderbird with a four-door model, it also appeared with fake landau irons.  On the two-door Thunderbirds they were just gorp (what bling used to be called in Detroit) but the sedan was built on a relatively short wheelbase combined with a large C-Pillar (for the desired “formal roofline”) so the only way to make the door opening wide enough to be functional was use the “suicide” (rear hinged) configuration and integrate some of the structure into the C-Pillar.  To disguise the trick (1) a vinyl roof was glued on (covering also the affected part of the door) and (2) the curve of the landau bars formed an extension of the trim-line (roof guttering).  As a visual device it worked, making the four-door Thunderbird (1967-1971) the only car ever improved by the addition of the otherwise ghastly vinyl roof although it works best in a black-on-black combination, further disguising things.

Publicity shot for 1961 Lincoln Continental four-door hardtop (pre-production prototype).

One of the anomalies in the history of the four-door hardtops was that Lincoln, in its classic 1960s Continental, offered a a four-door pillared sedan, a by then unique (in the US, Mercedes-Benz as late as 1962 still with one on the books) four-door convertible and, late in the run, a two-door hardtop but no four-door hardtop.  That seemed curious because the structural engineering required to produce a four door hardtop already existed in the convertible coachwork and both Ford & Mercury had several in their ranges, as did the many divisions of GM & Chrysler.  According to the authoritative Curbside Classic, the four-door hardtop was cancelled almost on the eve of the model's release, the factory’s records indicating either ten or eleven were built (which seem to have been pre-production vehicles rather than prototypes) and photographs survive, some of which even appeared in general-release brochures with a B-pillar air-brushed in.  It seems testing had revealed that at speed, the large expanse of metal in the roof was prone to distortion which, while barely perceptible, allowed some moisture intrusion through the window seals.  The only obvious solution was to use heavier gauge metal but that would have been expensive and delayed the model's release so, with some some uncertainty about the prospects of success for the brand, the decision was taken to prune the line-up.  While never the biggest sellers, the four-door hardtops had always attracted attention in showrooms but for that task, Lincoln anyway had something beyond the merely exclusive, they had the eye-catching four-door convertible.  So late was the decision taken not to proceed that Lincoln had already printed service bulletins, parts lists and other documents, detailing the four-door (pillared) sedan (Body Code 53A), four-door convertible (74A) & four-door hardtop (57C).  Curbside Classic revealed that of the 57C count, either six or seven were converted to sedans while the fate of the "missing four" remains a mystery, there being nothing to suggest any of the phantom four ever reached public hands.  Collectors chase rarities like these but they’ve not been seen in 65-odd years so it’s presumed all were scrapped once the decision was taken not to proceed with production.

An alternative explanation for the body-style not reaching production was provided by Mac's Motor City Garage which noted the intricate mechanisms fitted to the doors of the convertible, devised to replicate the way side-windows behave when a B-pillar is present.  What the body engineers did was craft a system in which the rear side glass seal slipped in behind the front glass, triggering an automatic “drop-down” which made the rear glass lower to the extent required when the door was opened.  The pre-production plan had been for all these motors and associated wiring to be fitted also to the four-door hardtop but the assumption is the accountants must have looked at the increased costs all this imposed and then compared the math with the sales projections, concluding the economics were wrong.  Because the body engineering had been done for the convertible, there was no structural necessity in the B-pillar used for the sedan (which is why it could be so impressively slender) but it did provide an effective seal between the front and rear side glass and much reduced wear on the weather-stripping.  So, according to Mac's Motor City Garage, the non-appearance of the planned hardtop was all about the cost savings achieved by not having to install the hardware in the doors.

1966 Lincoln Continental two-door hardtop.

The consensus among Lincoln gurus is the rationale for the decision was based wholly on cost.  While the Edsel's failure in the late 1950s is well storied, it’s often forgotten that nor were the huge Lincolns of that era a success and, with the Ford Motor Company suddenly being run by the MBA-type “wizz kids”, the Lincoln brand too was considered for the axe.  After Lincoln booked a cumulative loss of US$60 million (then a great deal of money although that number, like the Edsel's US$250 million in red ink, might have been overstated to take advantage of the tax rules related to write-offs), that idea was considered but Lincoln was given one last chance at redemption, using what was actually a prototype Ford Thunderbird; that was the car which emerged as the memorable 1961 Lincoln.  But given the lukewarm reception to the last range, to there was no certainty of success so it seems the decision was taken to restrict the range to the pillared sedan and the four-door convertible, a breakdown on the production costs of the prototype four-door hardtops proving they would be much more expensive to produce (it would have had to use the convertible's intricate side-window assemblies).

1976 Jaguar XJ 5.3C.  With the ugly vinyl removed, the lovely roof-line can be admired.  Although long habitually referred to as a "coupé", the factory called them the "XJ Two-Door Saloon", reserving the former designation for the E-Type (1961-1974) and XJ-S (later XJS) (1975-1996).

Coincidently, over a decade later, Jaguar in the UK faced a similar problem when developing the two-door hardtop version (1975-1977) of their XJ saloon (1968-1992).  It was a troubled time for the UK industry and although first displayed in 1973, it wasn't until 1975 the first were delivered.  One problem revealed in testing was the roof tended slightly to flex and while not a structural issue, because regulations had compelled the removal of lead from automotive paint, the movement in the metal could cause the now less flexible paint to craze and, under-capitalized, Jaguar (by then part of the doomed British Leyland conglomerate) didn't have the funds to undertake a costly re-design so the Q&D (quick & dirty) solution was to glue on a vinyl roof.  It marred the look but saved the car and modern paint can now cope so a number of owners have taken the opportunity to restore their XJC to the appearance the designers intended.  There are those who claim the “crazing paint” tale is just an urban myth and the awful stuff was glued on as a deliberate aesthetic choice because the look was then inexplicably popular (one of many lapses of good taste in the 1970s) but it's well-documented history.  Other problems (the dubious window sealing and the inadequate door hinges, the latter carried over from the four-door range which used shorter, lighter doors) were never fixed.  It's an accident of history that in 1960 when the fate of the Lincoln four-door hardtop was being pondered, vinyl roofs (although they had been seen) were a few years away from entering the mainstream so presumably the engineers never contemplated gluing one on to try to "fix the flex" although, given the economic imperatives, perhaps even that wouldn't have allowed it to escape the axe.

End of the line: 1967 Lincoln Continental four-door convertible.

It did work, sales volumes after a slow start in 1961 growing to a level Lincoln had not enjoyed in years, comfortably out-selling Imperial even if never a challenge to Cadillac.  The four-door convertible's most famous owner was Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; US president 1963-1969) who would use it to drive visitors around his Texas ranch (often with can of Pearl beer in hand according to LBJ folklore).  While never a big seller (21,347 made over seven years and it achieved fewer than 4,000 sales even in its best year), it was the most publicized of the line and to this day remains a staple in film & television productions needing verisimilitude of the era.  The convertible was discontinued after 1967 when 2276 were built, the two-door hardtop introduced the year before out-selling it five to one.  The market had spoken; it would be the last convertible Lincoln ever produced and it's now a collectable, LBJ's 1964 model in 2024 selling at auction for US$200,000 and fully restored examples without a celebrity connection regularly trade at well into five figures, illustrating the magic of the coach-work.

John Cashman (aka "The Lincoln Guru") is acknowledged as the world's foremost authority on the 1961-1967 Lincoln Continental Convertibles.  Here, in a video provided when LBJ's car (in Arctic White (Code M) over Beige Leather (Trim 74))  was sold on the Bring-a-Trailer on-line auction site, he explains the electrical & mechanical intricacies of the machinery which handles the folding top and side windows.  The soft-top is a marvel of analogue-era mechanical engineering.

Chrysler New Yorker Town & Country wagons: 1960 (left) and 1961 (right).  In 1960 there were 671 nine-passenger New Yorker Town & Country wagons, production increasing the next year to 760.

There were even four-door hardtop station wagons (which the Europeans would probably classify as “five door”) and curiously it was the usually dowdy AMC (American Motors Corporation) which in 1956 released the first, the impressively named Rambler Custom Cross Country Hardtop Wagon which in 1957 even gained a V8 engine.  For 1958, the niche body-style was moved to the bigger Ambassador series but it remained available only until 1960.  Buick, Oldsmobile and Mercury also flirted with four-door hardtop wagons all releasing models in 1957 but the GM (General Motors) were produced for only two seasons while the slow-selling Mercury lasted until 1960.

Image from 1960 Dodge brochure featuring the line's two wagons, the Dart (red) and the Polara (bronze).

In the era, the relationship in appearance between the car in the metal and the images in the advertising were something like what McDonalds and others do with their burgers: indicative but exaggerated.  In fairness to Chrysler, there were others in the industry who applied their artistic licence with much less restraint.

Not for the first or last time, Chrysler were late to a trend and with the quirky four-door hardtop wagon segment, the corporation managed to enter the market just as the rest of the industry had concluded it wasn’t worth the effort.  The 1960 Chryslers were the first to use unit-body (ie no separate chassis) construction and both the Windsor & New Yorker Town & Country wagons included the style and it remained in the catalogue until 1964, dropped when the new C-Body made its debut for 1965.  The companion marque Dodge had their premium Polara available as a hardtop wagon and it was available even with the photogenic Sonoramic cross-ram induction system.  After a hiatus in 1962, the style returned the next year in the Custom 880 series but as with the Chryslers, 1964 was the end of the line for the four-door hardtop wagon, not just for the corporation but the whole industry; there have been none since.

Deconstructing the oxymoronic  "pillared hardtop"

Ford public relations department's press release announcing the 1974 "pillared hardtop", September 1973 (left) and the frameless rear window on a 1977 Mercury Marquis four-door "pillared hardtop". 

So it would seem settled a hard-top is a convertible’s removable roof made with rigid materials like metal or fibreglass while a hardtop is a car with no central pillar between the forward and rear side glass.  That would be fine except that in the 1970s, Ford decided there were also “pillared hardtops”, introducing the description on a four-door range built on their full-sized (a breed now extinct) corporate platform shared between 1968-1978 by Ford and Mercury.  The rationale for the name was that to differentiate between the conventional sedan which used frames around the side windows and the pillared hardtops which used the frameless assemblies familiar from their use in the traditional hardtops.  When the pillared hardtops were released, as part of the effort to comply with pending rollover standards, the two door hardtop switched to being a coupé with thick B-pillars, behind which sat a tall “opera window”, another of those motifs the US manufacturers for years found irresistible.

1976 Cadillac Eldorado convertible, at the time: “the last American convertible”.  Unlike the convertibles, the US industry's four-door hardtops were never resurrected from the 1970s coachwork cull.  The styling of the original FWD Eldorado (1967) was one of the US industry's finest (as long as buyers resisted ordering the disfiguring vinyl roof) which no subsequent version matched, descending first to the baroque before in the 1980s becoming an absurd caricature.  In 1976, the lines of “the last American convertible” were almost restrained compared with the excesses of earlier in the decade.

The wheels in the picture are a minor footnote in the history of US manufacturing.  When GM’s “big” FWD (front wheel drive) coupes debuted (the Oldsmobile Toronado for 1966, the Eldorado the following season), although the styling of both was eye-catching, it was the engineering which intrigued many.  On paper, coupling 7.0 litre (429 cubic inch) (the Eldorado soon enlarged to 8.2 (500)) V8s with FWD sounded at least courageous but even in the early, more powerful, versions, GM managed remarkably well to tame the characteristics inherent in such a configuration and the transmission (which included a chain-drive!) proved as robust and the other heavy-duty Turbo-Hydramatics.  Unlike other ranges, the Toronado and Eldorado offered no options in wheel or wheel-cover design and because the buyer demographic was very different for those shopping for Mustangs, Corvettes and such, there was initially no interest from wheel manufactures in offering an alternative; being FWD, it would have required a different design for the mounting and with such a small potential market, none were tempted.  Later however, California’s Western Wheel Company adapted their “Cyclone Special” (a “turbine” style) and released it as the “Cyclone Eldorado”.  It wasn’t a big seller but the volumes must have been enough to justify continuation because Western also released a version for the 1979-1985 Eldorados although the two were not interchangeable, the bolt-circle 5 x 5" for the older, 5 x 4.75" for the newer.  The difference in the offset was corrected with a spacer while the wheels (Western casting #4056) were otherwise identical.  When Cadillac in the 1980s offered a factory fitted alloy wheel, that was the end of the line for Western's Cyclone Eldorado.

Open (left) and shut (centre) case: 1976 Lincoln Continental Mark IV (1972-1976, right) with Moonroof.

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 the latter term has faded from use.

1973 Lincoln Continental Mark IV with moonroof.

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 (left) and 1972 Porsche 911 Targa in silver (right).  The lovely but flawed Stag (1970-1977) actually needed its built-in roll cage for structural rigidity because it's underpinnings substantially were unchanged from the Triumph 2000 sedan (1963-1977) on which it was based.

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 (A-C) 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 uses the German wunderbar (“wonderful” and pronounced vuhn-dah-baah) with a placement and context so an English speaking audience would read 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, 1972-1980) was released, 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.  

Compliant and not with FMVSS 208 as drafted.  1978 Chevrolet Corvette Coupe with T-Top roof (left) and 1978 Chrysler New Yorker, the last of the four-door hardtops (right).  The indefinite extension of the "temporary exemption" of convertibles from FMVSS's roll-over standards created the curious anomaly that Chrysler could in theory have maintained a New Yorker convertible (had one existed) in production while being compelled to drop the four-door hardtop.  Market realities meant the federal court never had to resolve that one and no manufacturer sought an exemption for the latter.    

1966 Lincoln Continental Sedan (left) and 1974 Buick Century Luxus Colonnade Hardtop Sedan (right).  Luxus was from the Latin luxus (extravagance) and appeared in several Germanic languages where it conveyed the idea of "luxury".   

With "pillared hardtops", it was actually only the ostensibly oxymoronic nomenclature which was novel, Ford’s Lincoln Continentals combining side windows with frames which lowered into the doors and a B pillar; Lincoln called these a sedan, then the familiar appellation in the US for all four-door models with a centre pillar.  Curiously, in the 1960s another descriptive layer appeared (though usually not used by the manufacturers): “post”.  Thus where a range included two-door hardtops with no pillar a coupés with one, there was among some to adopt “coupé” and “post coupé” as a means of differentiation and this spread, the term “post sedan” also still seen today in the collector markets.  Other manufacturers in the 1970s also used the combination of frameless side glass and a B-pillar but Ford’s adoption of “pillar hardtop was unique; All such models in General Motors’ (GM) “Colonnade” lines were originally described variously as “colonnade hardtop sedans” (Buick) or “colonnade hardtops” (Chevrolet, Oldsmobile & Pontiac) and the nickname was borrowed from architecture where colonnade refers to “a series of regularly spaced columns supporting an entablature and often one side of a roof”.  For whatever reasons, the advertising copy changed over the years, Buick shifting to “hardtop sedan”, Chevrolet & Oldsmobile to “sedan” and Pontiac “colonnade hardtop sedan”.  Pontiac was the last to cling to the use of “colonnade”; by the late 1970s the novelty has passed and the consumer is usually attracted by something “new”.  Because the GM range of sedans had for uprights (A, B & C-pillars plus a divided rear glass), the allusion was to these as “columns”.  Ford though, was a little tricky.  Their B-pillars were designed in such as way that the thick portion was recessed and dark, the silver centrepiece thin and more obvious, so with the windows raised, the cars could be mistaken for a classic hardtop.  It was a cheap trick but it was also clever, in etymological terms a “fake hardtop” but before long, there was a bit of a vogue for “fake soft-tops” which seems indisputably worse.

1975 Imperial LeBaron (left) and 1978 Chrysler New Yorker.  The big Chryslers were the last of the four-door hardtops produced in the US.

The Americans didn’t actually invent the pillarless hardtop style and although coach-builders on both sides of the Atlantic had built a handful in both two and four door form, in the post-war years it was Detroit which with gusto took to the motif.  The other geo-centre of hardtops was the JDM (Japanese Domestic Market) which refers to vehicles produced (almost) exclusively for sale within Japan and rarely seen beyond except in diplomatic use, as private imports, or as part of the odd batch exported to special markets.  As an ecosystem, it exerts a special fascination for (1) those who study the Japanese industry and (2) those who gaze enviously on the desirable versions the RoW (rest of the world) was denied.  The range of high performance versions and variations in coachwork available in the JDM was wide and for those with a fondness for Japanese cars, the subject of cult-like veneration.  By the late 1970s, the handful of US four-door hardtops still on sale were hangovers from designs which dated from the late 1960s, behemoths anyway doomed by rising gas (petrol) prices and tightening emission controls; with the coming of 1979 (coincidently the year of the “second oil shock”) all were gone.  In the JDM however, the interest remained and endured into the 1990s.

1965 Chevrolet Corvair Corsa (two-door hardtop, left) and 1969 Mazda Luce Coupé (right).

The first Japanese cars to use the hardtop configuration were two-door coupés, the Toyota Corona the first in 1965 and Nissan and Mitsubishi soon followed.  One interesting thing during the era was the elegant Izuzu 117 Coupé (1968-1980), styled by the Italian Giorgetto Giugiaro (b 1938) which, with its slender B-pillar, anticipated Ford’s stylistic trick although there’s nothing to suggest this was ever part of the design brief.  Another of Giugiaro’s creations was the rare Mazda Luce Coupé (1968), a true hardtop which has the quirk of being Mazda’s only rotary-powered car to be configured with FWD.  Giugiaro’s lines were hardly original because essentially they duplicated (though few suggest "improved") those of the lovely second generation Chevrolet Corvair (1965-1969) and does illustrate what an outstanding compact the Corvair could have been if fitted with a conventional (front-engine / rear wheel drive (RWD)) drive-train.

1973 Nissan Cedric four-door Hardtop 2000 Custom Deluxe (KF230, left) and 1974 Toyota Crown Royal Saloon four-door Pillared Hardtop (2600 Series, right).

By 1972, Nissan released a version of the Laurel which was their first four-door although it was only the volume manufacturers for which the economics of scale of such things were attractive, the smaller players such as Honda and Subaru dabbling only with two-door models.  Toyota was the most smitten and by the late 1970s, there were hardtops in all the passenger car lines except the smallest and the exclusive Century, the company finding that for a relatively small investment, an increase in profit margins of over 10% was possible.  Toyota in 1974 also followed Ford’s example in using a “pillared hardtop” style for the up-market Crown, the exclusivity enhanced by a roofline lowered by 25 mm (1 inch); these days it’d be called a “four door coupé” (and etymologically that is correct, as Rover had already demonstrated with a "chop-top" which surprised many upon its release in 1962).  In the JDM, the last true four-door hardtops were built in the early 1990s but Subaru continued to offer the “pillared hardtop” style until 2010 and the extinction of the breed was most attributable to the shifting market preference for sports utility vehicles (SUV) and such.  In Australia, Mitsubishi between between 1996-2005 used frameless side-windows and a slim B-pillar on their Magna so it fitted the definition of a “pillar hardtop” although the term was never used in marketing, the term “hardtop” something Australians associated only with two-door coupés (Ford and Chrysler had actually the term as a model name in the 1960s & 1970s).  When the Magna was replaced by the doomed and dreary 380 (2005-2008), Mitsubishi reverted to window frames and chunky pillars.

Standard and Spezial coachwork on the Mercedes-Benz 300d (W189, 1957-1962).  The "standard" four-door hardtop was available throughout the run while the four-door Cabriolet D was offered (off and on) between 1958-1962 and the Spezials (landaulets, high-roofs etc), most of which were for state or diplomatic use, were made on a separate assembly line in 1960-1961.  The standard "greenhouse" (or glasshouse) cars are to the left, those with the high roof-line to the right.

Few European manufacturers attempted four-door hardtops and one of the handful was the 300d (W189, 1957-1962), a revised version of the W186 (300, 300b & 300c; 1951-1957) which came to be referred to as the "Adenauer" because several were used as state cars by Konrad Adenauer (1876–1967; chancellor of the FRG (West Germany) 1949-1963).  Although the coachwork never exactly embraced the lines of mid-century modernism, the integration of the lines of the 1950s with the pre-war motifs appealed to the target market (commerce, diplomacy and the old & rich) and on the platform the factory built various Spezials including long wheelbase "pullmans", landaulets, high-roof limousines and four-door cabriolets (Cabriolet D in the Daimler-Benz system).  The high roofline appeared sometimes on both the closed & open cars and even then, years before the assassination of John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963), the greenhouse sometimes featured “bullet-proof” glass.  As well as Chancellor Adenauer, the 300d is remembered also as the Popemobile (although not then labelled as such) of John XXIII (1881-1963; pope 1958-1963).

A tale of two rooflines: 1955 Chrysler C-300 (top left), 1970 Mercedes-Benz 280 SE 3.5 Coupé (top right), Rover 3.5 Coupé (bottom left) and Rover 3.5 Saloon (bottom right).

On sale only in 1955-1956, the restrained lines of Chrysler’s elegant “Forward Look” range didn’t last long in the US as extravagance overtook Detroit but the influence endured longer in Europe, both the Mercedes-Benz W111 (1961-1971) & W112 Coupes (1962-1967) and the Rover P5 (1958-1967) & P5B (1967-1973) interpreting the shape.  In the UK, Rover (a company with a history or adventurism in engineering which belies its staid image) tried to create a four-door hardtop as a more rakish version of their P5 sedan (3 Litre (P5, 1958-1957) & 3.5 Litre (P5B 1967-1973)) but were unable to perfect the sealing around the windows, something which later afflicted also the lovely two-door versions of the Jaguar & Daimler XJ.  Rover instead in 1962 released a pillared version of the P5 with a lowered roof-line and some different interior fittings and named the four-door the "Coupé" which puzzled those who had become used to "coupes" being two-door machines but etymologically, Rover was correct.

Pillars, stunted pillars & "pillarless"

1959 Lancia Appia Series III

Actually, although an accepted part of engineering jargon, to speak of the classic four-door hardtops as “pillarless” is, in the narrow technical sense, misleading because almost all used a truncated B-pillar, ending at the belt-line where the greenhouse begins.  The stunted device was required to provide a secure anchor point for the rear door's hinges (or latches for both if suicide doors were used) and in the case of the latter, being of frameless construction, without the upright, the doors would be able to be locked in place only at the sill, the physics of which presents a challenge because even in vehicles with high torsional rigidity, there will be movement.  The true pillarless design was successfully executed by some but those manufacturers used doors with sturdy window frames, permitting latch points at both sill and roof, Lancia offering the configuration on a number of sedans including the Ardea (1939-1953), Aurelia (1950-1958) & Appia (1953-1963).  The approach demanded a more intricate locking mechanism but the engineering was simple and on the Lancias it worked and was reliable, buyers enjoying the ease of ingress & egress.  It's sad the company's later attachment to front wheel drive (FWD) ultimately doomed Lancia because in every other aspect of engineering, few others were as adept at producing such fine small-displacement vehicles.

1961 Facel Vega II (a two door hardtop with the unusual "feature" of the rear side-glass being hinged from the C-pillar).

Less successful with doors was the Facel Vega Excellence, built in two series between 1958-1964.  Facel Vega was a French company which was a pioneer in what proved for almost two decades the interesting and lucrative business of the trans-Atlantic hybrid, the combination of stylish European coachwork with cheap, refined, powerful and reliable American engine-transmission combinations.  Like most in the genre, the bulk of Facel Vega’s production was big (by European standards) coupés (and the odd cabriolet) and they enjoyed much success, the company doomed only when it augmented the range with the Facellia, a smaller car.  Conceptually, adding the smaller coupés & cabriolets was a good idea because it was obvious the gap in the market existed but the mistake was to pander to the feelings of politicians and use a French designed & built engine which proved not only fragile but so fundamentally flawed rectification was impossible.  By the time the car had been re-engineered to use the famously durable Volvo B18 engine, the combination of the cost of the warranty claims and reputational damage meant bankruptcy was impending and in 1964 the company ceased operation.  The surviving “big” Facel Vegas, powered by a variety of big-block Chrysler V8s, are now highly collectable and priced accordingly.

1960 Facel Vega Excellence EX1

Compared with that debacle, the problem besetting the Excellence was less serious but was embarrassing and, like the Facellia's unreliable engine, couldn’t be fixed.  The Excellence was a four-door sedan, a configuration also offered by a handful of other trans-Atlantic players (including Iso, DeTomaso & Monteverdi) and although volumes were low, because the platforms were elongations of those used on their coupés, production & development costs were modest so with high prices, profits were good.  Facel Vega however attempted what no others dared: combine eye-catching suicide doors, frameless side glass and coachwork which was truly pillarless, necessitating latching & locking mechanisms in the sills.  With the doors open, it was a dramatic scene of lush leather and highly polished burl walnut (which was actually painted metal) and the intricate lock mechanism was precisely machined and worked well… on a test bench.  Unfortunately, on the road, the pillarless centre section was inclined slightly to flex when subject to lateral forces (such as those imposed when turning corners) and this could release the locks, springing the doors open.  Owners reported this happening while turning corners and it should be remembered (1) lateral force increases as speed rises and (2) this was the pre-seatbelt era.  There appear to be no confirmed reports of unfortunate souls being ejected by centrifugal force through an suddenly open door (the author Albert Camus (1913–1960) was killed when the Facel Vega HK500 two-door coupé in which he was a passenger hit a tree, an accident unrelated to doors) but clearly the risk was there.  Revisions to the mechanism improved the security but the problem was never completely solved; despite that the factory did offer a revised second series Excellence in 1961, abandoning the dog-leg style windscreen and toning down the fins, both of which had become passé but in three years only a handful were sold.  By the time the factory was shuttered in 1964, total Excellence production stood at 148 EX1s (Series One; 1958-1961) & 8 EX2s (Series Two; 1961-1964).

The Mercedes-Benz R230 SL: Lindsay Lohan going topless (in an automotive sense) in 2005 SL 65 AMG with folding roof lowered (left), Ms Lohan's SL 65 AMG (with folding roof erected) later when on sale (centre) & 2009 SL 65 AMG Black Series with fixed-roof (right).

At the time, uniquely in the SL lineage, the R230 (2001-2011) was available with both a retractable hard top and with a fixed roof but no soft-top was ever offered (the configuration continued in the R231 (2012-2020) while the R232 (since 2021) reverted to fabric).  Having no B pillar, most of the R230s were thus a hardtop with a hard-top but the SL 65 AMG Black Series (2008–2011, 400 of which were built, 175 for the US market, 225 for the RoW) used a fixed roof fabricated using a carbon fibre composite, something which contributed to the Black Series weighing some 250 kilograms (550 lb) less than the standard SL 65 AMG.  A production of 350 is sometimes quoted but those maintaining the registers insist the count was 400.  Of the road-going SLs built since 1954, the Black Series R230 was one of only three models sold without a retractable roof of some kind, the others being the original 300 SL Gullwing (W198, 1954-1957) and the “California coupé” option offered between 1967-1971 for the W113 (1963-1971) "Pagoda" roadster (and thus available only for the 250 SL (1966-1968) & 280 SL (1967-1971)).  The "California coupé" (a nickname from the market, the factory only ever using "SL Coupé") was simply an SL supplied with only the removable hard-top and no soft-top, a folding bench seat included which was really suitable only for small children.  The name California was chosen presumably because of the association of the place with sunshine and hence a place where one could be confident it was safe to go for a drive without the fear of unexpected rain.  Despite the name, the California coupé was available outside the US (a few even built in right-hand drive form) and although the North American market absorbed most of the production, a remarkable number seem to exist in Scandinavia.

A classic roadster, the C3 Chevrolet Corvette L88: Convertible with soft-top lowered (top left), convertible with hard-top in place (top right), convertible with soft-top erected (bottom left) and coupé (roof with two removable panels (T-top)) (bottom right).  The four vehicles in these images account for 2.040816% of the 196 C3 L88 Corvettes produced (80 in 1968; 116 in 1969) and the L88 count constitutes .000361% of total C3 production.