Exquisite

Exquisite (pronounced ek-skwi-zit or ik-skwiz-it)

(1) Of special beauty or charm, or rare and appealing excellence and often associated with objects or great delicacy; of rare excellence of production or execution, as works of art or workmanship; beautiful, delicate, discriminating, perfect.

(2) Extraordinarily fine or admirable; consummate.

(3) Intense; acute, or keen, as pleasure or pain; keenly or delicately sensitive or responsive; exceeding; extreme; in a bad or a good sense (eg as exquisite pleasure or exquisite pain).

(4) Recherché; far-fetched; abstruse (a now rare early meaning which to some extent survives in surrealist’s exercise “exquisite corpse”).

(5) Of particular refinement or elegance, as taste, manners, etc or persons.

(6) A man excessively concerned about clothes, grooming etc; a dandy or coxcomb.

(7) Ingeniously devised or thought out (obsolete).

(8) Carefully adjusted; precise; accurate; exact (now less common except as an adverb.

(9) Of delicate perception or close and accurate discrimination; not easy to satisfy; exact; fastidious (related to the sense of “exquisite judgment, taste, or discernment”.

1400–1450: From the Late Middle English exquisite (carefully selected), from the Latin exquīsītus (excellent; meticulous, chosen with care (and literally “carefully sought out”)), perfect passive participle of exquīrō (to seek out), originally the past participle of exquīrere (to ask about, examine) the construct being ex- + -quīrere, a combining form of quaerere (to seek). The construct of exquīrō was ex- +‎ quaerō (seek).  The ex- prefix was applied to words in Middle English borrowed from the Middle French and was derived from the Latin ex- (out of, from) and was from the primitive Indo-European eǵ- & eǵs-.  It was cognate with the Ancient Greek ἐξ (ex-, out of, from) from the Transalpine Gaulish ex- (out), the Old Irish ess- (out), the Old Church Slavonic изъ (izŭ) (out), the Russian из (iz) (from, out of).  Exquisite is a noun & adjective, exquisiteness & exquisitiveness are nouns and exquisitively & exquisitely are adverbs; the noun plural is exquisites.

1972 Lancia Fulvia 1600 HF Series II.  

Everything about the Lancia Fulvia (1965-1976) appeared exquisitely delicate but the little machine was tough and was for half-a-decade a dominant force in international rallying.  A Lancia legend is that when the hood was opened on one of the first to reach the US, a mechanic, brought up on a diet of hefty V8s, upon seeing the tiny, 1.2 litre (75 cubic inch) narrow-angle V4 is said to have remarked: “Don’t ask me, take it to a jeweler.”

The etymology of the Latin quaerō (seek) is mysterious.  It may be from the Proto-Italic kwaizeō, from the primitive Indo-European kweh (to acquire) so cognates may include the Ancient Greek πέπαμαι (pépamai) (to get, acquire), the Old Prussian quoi (I/you want) & quāits (desire), the Lithuanian kviẽsti (to invite) and possibly the Albanian kam (I have).  Some have suggested the source being the primitive Indo-European kwoys & kweys (to see) but there has been little support for this.  The authoritative Lexikon der indogermanischen Verben (Lexicon of the Indo-European Verbs (LIV)), the standard etymological dictionary of the Proto-Indo-European languages, suggests it’s a derivation of hzeys (to seek, ask), via the form koaiseo.  "Exquisite corpse" is a calque of the French cadavre exquis (literally “exquisite cadaver”).  Dating from 1925, it was coined by French surrealists to describe a method of loosely structured constructivism on the model of the parlour game consequences; fragments of text (or images) are created by different people according to pre-set rules, then joined together to create a complete text.  The name comes from the first instance in 1925: Le cadavre exquis boira le vin nouveau (The exquisite corpse will drink new wine).  Exquisite corpse is noted as a precursor to both post-modernism and deconstructionist techniques.

Although not infrequently it appears in the same sentence as the word “unique”, exquisite can be more nuanced, the comparative “more exquisite, the superlative most exquisite” and there has certainly been a change in the pattern of use.  In English, it originally was applied to any thing (good or bad, art or torture, diseases or good health), brought to a highly wrought condition, tending among the more puritanical to disapprobation.  The common modern meaning (of consummate and delightful excellence) dates from the late 1570s while the noun (a dandy, a foppish man) seems first to have been used in 1819.  One interesting variant which didn’t survive was exquisitous (not natural, but procured by art), appearing in dictionaries in the early eighteenth centuries but not since.  The pronunciation of exquisite has undergone a rapid change from ek-skwi-zit to ik-skwiz-it, the stress shifting to the second syllable.  The newer pronunciation attracted the inevitable criticism but is now the most common form on both sides of the Atlantic and use seems not differentiated by class. 

The exquisite wimp: Baldur Benedikt von Schirach

Exquisite is used almost exclusively as an adjective, applied typically to objects or performances but it’s also a noun, albeit one always rare.  As a noun it was used to describe men who inhabited that grey area of being well dressed, well coiffured, well mannered and somewhat effeminate without being obviously homosexual; it was a way of hinting at something without descending to the explicit.  PG Wodehouse (1881-1975) applied it thus in Sam the Sudden (1925) and historians Ann (1938-2021) & John Tusa (b 1936) in The Nuremberg Trial (1983) found no better noun to apply to former Hitler Youth Leader Baldur von Schirach, noting (as did his many enemies in the party) his feminine tastes in furnishings and propensity to pen poor poetry.  The companion word to describe a similar chap without of necessity the same hint of effeminacy is “aesthete”.  In The Anatomy of the Nuremberg Trials: A Personal Memoir (1992), Brigadier General Telford Taylor (1908–1998; lead US counsel at the Nuremberg Trial) wrote of him that: “at thirty-nine, was the youngest and, except perhaps for Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945) and Hans Fritzsche (1900–1953; Nazi propagandist), the weakest of the defendants.  If wimps had then been spoken of, Schirach would have been so styled.”

Nazi poetry circle on the terrace at the Berghof on the Obersalzberg.

Left to right: Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), Martin Bormann (1900–1945), Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945), and Baldur von Schirach (1907-1974; head of the Hitlerjugend (Hitler Youth) 1931-1940 & Gauleiter (district party leader) and Reichsstatthalter (Governor) of Vienna (1940-1945)), Berchtesgaden, Bavaria, Germany, 1936.  Of much, the other three were guilty as sin and would (at the last possible moment) commit suicide but von Schirach would survive to die in his bed at 67.  There seems no record to confirm if that bed was in a “a snow white bedroom with delicate lace curtains” as the rougher types in the Nazi Party had once derided him for having.

Airey Neave (1916–1979) was the British military lawyer who served the indictments on the defendants at Nuremberg and in On Trial at Nuremberg (1978) he recalled the experience, cell by cell.  His first impression of von Schirach was that his appearance was “…bi-sexual and soft with thé dansant eyes [thé dansant was a dance held while afternoon tea was served and in idiomatic use “thé dansant eyes” suggested the coquettish fluttering of the lashes a flirtatious young lady might deploy]”, adding “He looked a man who might be dangerous to small boys.  At a second glance, I imagined him beneath the palms at Cannes in co-respondent shoes.”  In this context, Neave used “co-respondent” in the sense of the man cited in divorce proceedings as the one who slept with the adulterous wife and a “co-respondent shoes (or car, suit, tie etc)” were distinguished by flashiness rather than quality.

Von Schirach went on trial before the IMT (International Military Tribunal) in the first Nuremberg trial (1945-1946), an event the author Rebecca West (1892–1983) attended in her capacity as a journalist and among her impressions she wrote of him, admitting she was at first “startled” because “…he was like a woman in a way not common among men who look like women.  It was as if a neat and mousy governess sat there, not pretty but with never a hair out of place, and always to be trusted never to intrude when there were visitors: as it might be Jane Eyre.”  Although indicted also under Count 1 (conspiracy to commit crimes against peace), for his role as head (1931-1940) of the Hitlerjugend (Hitler Youth), von Schirach was convicted only under Count 4 (crimes against humanity) for his part in deporting Viennese Jews to the death camps while Gauleiter and Reichsstatthalter of Vienna.  Cunningly, and not without ostentation, he admitted some guilt for his role in “corrupting German youth” although by that he meant the political indoctrination to which he subjected them, rather than conduct many in the Nazi party liked to hint he enjoyed with the boys under his command; however defined, it’s certain he corrupted more youth than Socrates (circa 470–399 BC).  Applying common law principles, the IMT found his actions as head of the Hitlerjugend didn’t reach the threshold of “conspiracy” and thus acquitted him on Count 1, his 20 year sentence handed down for his conduct in Vienna.  The preparation for the trial had been rushed and had subsequently discovered evidence against him been presented at the trial, doubtlessly and deservedly he’d have been hanged.  Had that sentence been imposed, whether like Göring he’d have followed Socrates and taken hemlock will never be known.

Exquisite: A style guide

Lindsay Lohan in a Gucci Porcelain Garden Print Silk Gown with an all-over Dutch toile in blue and white, high ruffled collar and bib, flared sleeves, pussy bow and a blue and red patent leather belt around a high waist, Savoy Hotel, London, June 2017.

The gown was said to have a recommended retail price (RRP) of Stg£4,040 (US$7300).  The occasion was the launch of the charitable organization One Family, dedicated to combating child trafficking.  While there was a fussiness about the detailing, the quality of the construction was obvious and successfully to use, at this scale, a pattern of this intricacy is not easy and demands a skilled eye.  On the move, it swished around nicely and although the whims of critics can be hard to predict, on the night, most seemed to like this and it was a perhaps welcome relief from the expanses of skin of the "naked dress" movement, then beginning to dominate red carpets.

Designers find inspiration where it's found: Four dinner plates from Wedgewood's Enoch "Countryside Blue" collection, circa 1967.

Within the one critique, the word exquisite can appear, used as a neutral descriptor (an expression of extent), a paean to beauty and even an ironic dismissal.  A gown for example can be “exquisitely detailed” but that doesn’t of necessity imply elegance although that would be the case of something said to be an “exquisite design”.  That said, most were drawn to the Lindsay Lohan's Gucci gown in some way, the references to Jane Austen (1775–1817) many (although historians of fashion might note Gucci’s creation as something evocative more of recent films made of Ms Austen's novels than anything representative of what was worn in her era) and the fabric’s patterning & restraint in the use of color produced a dreamily romantic look.

Birdcage

Birdcage (pronounced burd-keyj)

(1) A cage for confining birds (built traditionally with wire or wicker and used also as bird cage & bird-cage).

(2) Something that in form (at any scale) resembles (even vaguely) the construction of a birdcage.

(3) In aviation industry slang, the airspace over an airport and the aircraft there in flight.

(4) An area on a racecourse where horses parade before a race (“paddock” preferred in US use).

(5) In US slang, a used-car lot (now rare).

1480–1490: The construct was bird + cage.  Bird was a pre-900 form, from the Middle English byrd, from the Old English bridd & brid (which in the Northumbrian dialect was “bird”) (young bird, chick; feathered, warm-blooded vertebrate animal of the class Aves).  The Old English bird was an unusual collateral form of bridd and originally meant “young bird, nestling” whereas the typical Old English for bird was fugol, related to the noun fowl, of uncertain origin with no known cognates in any other Germanic language (speculated links to umlaut dismissed by etymologists).  Because birds are a creature doubtlessly noticed and in some form named by people since the early days of human evolution, it’s not surprising it believed variants in Middle English may go back to “an ancient period”.  From the early to mid-fourteenth century, “bird” increasingly supplanted “fowl” as the most common term.

Cage dates from 1175–1225 and was from the Middle English cage (and the earlier forms kage & gage), from the Old French cage (prison; retreat, hideout), from the Latin cavea (hollow place, enclosure for animals, coop, hive, stall, dungeon, spectators' seats in a theatre), the construct being cav(us) (hollow) + -ea, the feminine of -eus (the adjectival suffix); a doublet of cadge and related to jail.  The Latin cavea was the source also of the Italian gabbia (basket for fowls, coop).  The noun (box-like receptacle or enclosure, with open spaces, made of wires, reeds etc) typically described the barred-boxes used for confining domesticated birds or wild beasts was the first form and from circa 1300 was used in English to describe “a cage for prisoners, jail, prison, a cell”.  To “rattle someone's cage” is to upset or anger them, based on the reaction from imprisoned creatures (human & animal) to the noise made by shaking their cages.  The noun bird-cage (also birdcage) was in the late fifteenth century formed to describe a "portable enclosure for birds", as distinct from the static cages which came to be called aviaries.  The verb (to confine in a cage, to shut up or confine) dates from the 1570s and was derived from the noun.  The synonyms for the verb include crate, enclosure, jail, pen, coop up, corral, fold, mew, pinfold, pound, confine, enclose, envelop, hem, immure, impound, imprison, incarcerate, restrain & close-in.  Cage is a noun, verb and (occasional) adjective, caged & caging are verbs (used with object) and constructions include cage-less, cage-like, re-cage; the noun plural is cages.  Birdcage is a noun; the noun plural is birdcages.

The term gilded cage (often heard in the form “trapped in a gilded cage” describes a place (or situation) which superficially is attractive but is in some way constraining; a comfortable but confined situation.  The point of the “gilded cage” is the “effective confinement” is achieved not by the “cage” but by the unwillingness of the confined to relinquish the luxury of their “gilded lifestyle”; it’s thus a self-imposed “imprisonment”, certain comfort valued more than the uncertainties of freedom.  The term is thought to have been coined by the writers of the popular song A Bird in a Gilded Cage (1900).  History (some of it recent) is littered with examples of those “trapped in a gilded cage” and overwhelming they’re well-bred women, compelled for various reasons (dynastic, financial, political etc) to marry someone not of their choice.  A classic example of the adage “for everything you do there’s a price to be paid”, the best documented are the most miserable but the phenomenon is an illustration of the way what ultimately matters is not the situation in which one finds oneself but how one reacts.

Consuelo Vanderbilt (circa 1900), oil on canvas by Paul César Helleu (1859–1927).

Consuelo Vanderbilt (1877-1964) was the most illustrious of the American “dollar princesses” who crossed the Atlantic to marry increasingly impoverished members of the British aristocracy.  Unhappily (and tearfully), aged 18, she became Duchess of Marlborough, diligently and dutifully (for a while) fulfilling the role her father’s money had purchased.  The French painter Paul César Helleu was noted for his portraits of society women of the Belle Époque and, working on commission, he was not above flattery but there’s no doubt he captured the beauty of the slender Consuelo and they may have had had an affair, a diversion not uncommon among dollar princesses chaffing against the bars of their gilded cage.  While in the history texts most in gilded cages are there because they led tortured, unhappy lives, there were some who resolved to “make the best of things” and just try to enjoy the gild: taking the rough with the smooth as it were.  F Scott Fitzgerald (1896–1940) in The Great Gatsby (1925) described Daisy Buchanan as a “golden girl” who had opted for the security of marrying money and was thus consigned to life as a “beautiful little fool” in a “gilded cage of class and gender politics.”  There are worse ways to live and as George Bernard Shaw (GBS; 1856-1950) observed, while money may not buy happiness, surely it is better to be miserable and rich than miserable and poor.   

Lindsay Lohan in The Birdcage, Flemington Racecourse, Melbourne, Victoria, Spring Carnival Derby Day, 2 November, 2019.

The origin of the curious use of “birdcage” to describe the enclosed area where horses are saddled and walked before and after a race lies in an architectural analogy, the space enclosed traditionally by light iron railings, often decorative, painted white and closely spaced.  Spectators standing beyond the perimeter looked at the horses, much as one looks at birds inside an aviary; the metaphor thus “perspectival”.  In truth, the usually the circular or polygonal enclosure didn’t really resemble a large ornamental cage but the construction of the ironwork did recall the sides of a “birdcage” although obviously there was no need exactly to replicate the design, horses being unable, Pegasus-like, to “fly away”.  The term remains in common use in the UK, Australia and New Zealand where it had become part of the “social scene” of race days, the photographs published on society pages or Instagram often taken from “the birdcage”; at some tracks the spectator area has been remodelled for exactly that purpose with appropriate promotional backdrops.  In North America, used of “birdcage” in this context is rare, “paddock” the preferred term.

A similar linguistic adaptation was the “bullpen” (in baseball, an enclosed area for pitchers to practice in or “warm up”), the word possibly borrowed from rodeos where it literally was the (well-fenced) holding area for bulls.  In baseball, “bullpen” became a collective noun for pitchers and functioned as a synecdoche.  From the sport, it spread and came to be used figuratively to describe (1) “a place for someone or something to get prepared for some purpose” and (2) a military prison or its enclosing stockade.  Some decades after bullpen entered the vernacular of the sport, leagues were formed for women’s baseball and although in ranching the term “cowpen” (fenced area for holding cows) was well-known, baseball sensibly decided its nomenclature etymologically was detached from biological sex so assembled female pitchers also warmed-up in a bullpen and despite a recent trend towards gender-neutrality in sporting terminology, “bullpen” survived as fossilized baseball jargon.  Linguistically uncontroversial in the sport was “birdcage mask” which was the protective mask worn by catchers, the “birdcage element” referring to the thick wire structure protecting the face while still permitting adequate vision.

Lindsay Lohan (birdcage scene), Rumors (Official Music Video) from Speak (2004).

The origin of the use in baseball is contested although all seem to agree it came into use very early in the twentieth century.  One explanation is that by then it had become common for late-coming spectators to be cordoned off in a “standing room” area in “foul territory” (to the sides of the field where any ball hit was deemed “out of bounds”) and, noting the laggards were “herded like cattle”, “bullpen” was borrowed from the rodeo.  When those areas were re-purposed as the pitchers warm-up space, the designation stuck and the notion relief pitchers were once viewed “bullish” in temperament is thought one of baseball’s many myths.  An alternative theory is the use was at least influenced by the outfield fences at baseball grounds once often displaying advertisements for Bull Durham tobacco and in front of these relief pitchers would wait to be called into play and the use was thus associated with the billboards but for this there’s no documentary evidence. 

The Berghof, circa 1940.

By definition, a birdcage is of course “something in which one keeps one’s pet bird” but they can be also, certainly in their more elaborate forms, a decorative piece of furniture, a symbol of domesticity in the same way George Orwell (1903-1950) in Keep the Aspidistra Flying (1936) used the Aspidistra plant as an identifier of the middle-class though in fairness to the reputation of the perennial herbaceous plant, their popularity in English houses owed much to them being among the species most tolerant of the sometimes smoky atmosphere in an era when coal and wood burned on open fireplaces was a common form of heating.  They were thus an ideal house plant, being tolerant of neglect and suited to shade while their luxuriant growth meant they were effective oxygenators of air high in CO₂.  

Art Nouveau brass birdcage on conforming tripod stand.  The piece featured a domed tops, lift-out trays, swing perch and two small bird-seed feeders.

Tough, the Aspidistra wasn’t exactly “unkillable” but one really had to try and the plants thus were for generations something of a middle class fixture; it was in this sense Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945), in his (sometimes reliable) memoir Erinnerungen (Memories or Reminiscences) and published in English as Inside the Third Reich (1969) noted the birdcage in Adolf Hitler’s (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) country house, some years before it was enlarged in the sprawling complex centred on the Berghof:  “After Berchtesgaden came the steep mountain road full of potholes, until we arrived at Hitler's small, pleasant wooden house on Obersalzberg.  It had a wide overhanging roof and modest interior: a dining room, a small living room, and three bedrooms. The furniture was bogus old-German peasant style and gave the house a comfortable petit-bourgeois look.  A brass canary cage, a cactus, and a rubber plant intensified this impression. There were swastikas on knickknacks and pillows embroidered by admiring women, combined with, say, a rising sun or a vow of ‘eternal loyalty.’  Hitler commented to me with some embarrassment: ‘I know these are not beautiful things, but many of them are presents.  I shouldn't like to part with them.’”  Speer made no mention of a canary or any other bird sitting in the cage and nor is there a reference in contemporary accounts; that is in keeping with Hitler’s known views on how animals should be treated and while his attitudes to humanity proved reprehensible, those on wildlife were quite enlightened.

Art Deco birdcage.

Although there’s obviously some functional overlap, as well as birdcages, there are birdhouses, coops, aviaries, pigeon lofts.  A birdhouse is a “small house” for birds (and known also as a nest box).  Made usually of wood and mounted somewhere the residents will be protected from ground-dwelling predators, birdhouses are outdoor structures designed not to imprison wild birds but provide them a shelter where they can build nests.  A coop (in this context) is a place where birds are kept but while a birdcage is for a household pet, a coup is for productive (egg-laying and sometimes feathers or meat) birds and are enclosures built outside, partially enclosed (“chicken coops” the best known).  The word aviary has a wide vista and can be anything from a relatively small structure housing two or more birds to vast zoo-like areas in which there may be a mix of captive and wild creatures.  A pigeon loft (known also as a dovecote) is a specialized type of birdhouse, often placed on a building’s roof or other elevated spot in which domestic pigeons are bred and housed, usually for use in the sport of pigeon racing; the element “loft” tends to be used irrespective of the location of the structure.  A synonym was columbarium, from the Latin columbārium, the construct being columb(a) (pigeon) +‎ -ārium (place for) and because the sport became popular among the aristocracy of the Ancien Régime (circa 1500-1789) in France, the construction of columbaria because something of a contest (al la the “size race” in luxury yachts between today’s billionaires) and architects were engaged to design large, elaborate structures, sometimes emulating the style of the owner’s chateau.

Birdcaged: An airliner's dimmed cabin.

In the airline industry, “birdcaging” is a term which has come into vogue among passengers; it describes the request from cabin crew to close window blinds or (in aircraft configured with electronically dimmable windows) turn down the settings.  Apparently, if passengers don’t conform, the staff will enforce the onset of darkness.  Theories have circulated on the sites where disgruntled passengers complain about the antics of airlines (they are most active sites) with the most popular suggestion being it’s an attempt to keep the cabin’s environment “subdued”, encouraging “better behaviour”.  The airlines seem not to have commented and “birdcaging” is neither acknowledged industry jargon nor admitted to be any company’s policy.  Flight attendants have however taken to TikTok to subdue the debate, claiming airlines “encourage” the dimming to created “a comfortable environment for those who wish to sleep”.  Those keeping birds in cages will note the calming effect of placing a shroud over the wires, emulating night-time.  At least one flight attendant did concede: “I will say this does affect the calmness of the cabin, but that is not the reason we do this.”  From all this, bird-caged passengers will draw their own conclusions.

Coming maybe within a decade to economy class near you: A depiction of a  “windowless” airliner.

Whether windows will continue to be fitted to passenger aircraft isn’t clear because the manufacturers have been attempting to tempt decision-makers (Flexjet in 2025 signed a contract to buy 300 of Otto’s Phantom 3500 nine-seat executive jets) with windowless winged tubes, outside views (or anything else) emulated with shaped-screens which form part of the cabin lining.  The manufacturers say eliminating the windows will make airframes lighter, stronger and cheaper to produce.  It would also lower running costs and emissions because (1) even with flush-fitting fittings, there is some drag induced by the window frames and (2) the heat-soak from sunlight means more energy has to be expended to maintain cabin temperatures.  Additionally, without windows, passengers will be less exposed to radiation and although not many would fly frequently enough for the effect to be measured, it would benefit cabin crew.  Depending on what’s displayed on the screens, the experience could be surreal or hyper-realistic because HD (high-definition) cameras mounted in the fuselage enable the display (using seamless OLED (organic light-emitting diode) panels of a more expansive vista than is possible through a small window.  For now, although flight attendants would probably prefer passengers to be sedated upon taking their seats, bird-caging us will likely remain plan B.

C3 Chevrolet Corvette T-Top birdcage.

From its debut in 1953, the Chevrolet Corvette’s body has always been made from non-steel composite materials ranging from simple GRP (glass-reinforced plastic and better known as fiberglass) to materials of increasing complexity so rust has never afflicted the external panels but beneath all those curves and angels is much vulnerable ferrous metal including the frame and “birdcage”, the latter an object of veneration or despair, depending on its condition.  A crucial component in the overall strength and structure of some Corvettes, the birdcage was first integrated into the design when the C2 (1962-1967) was released and the same concept was used for the C3 (1968-1982): a reinforced frame surrounding the cabin, the nickname from the overall shape which vaguely recalled a birdcage.  Similar in outline to the “safety cell” for which Mercedes-Benz was in 1952 granted Patent 854157 (rigid passenger cell with front and rear crumple zones), the birdcage consisted of boxed steel channels with pillars running from the base of the windshield (A-pillars), along the rear of the cabin, and down to the frame kick-up behind the seats.  Although not really a complex piece of engineering, the fact that so integral to the car is the structure, for extensive repairs to be performed considerable disassembly is required and the cost of out-sourcing such a task often can exceed the value of the car; economics thus suggest it’s usually advisable to find a car with birdcage in sound condition, repairs often financially viable only if the car is rare (ie with a highly desirable specification or even a celebrity association).  A visual inspection is best left to experts because unless it has just emerged from a comprehensive restoration, the birdcages on all C2 & C3 Corvettes will have at least some light, surface rust but it can take an expert eye to tell the difference between that and rot which demands attention.  Fortunately, the Corvette community is vibrant with publications and on-line guides detailing the features & foibles of the structure.

Troubled birdcage: Rusted C3 windshield frame left-lower outer corner (left) and a replacement corner component (1968-1972) @ US$199.00 from Corvette Central.

On both the C2 & C3, there were two variants of the design, one for the coupe (T-top in the C3) and the one for the roadster (the last such C3 made in 1975) but all shared the susceptibility to rust, especially if used in areas with high salt-exposure (coastal regions or places where the stuff was spread on icy roads) and the part most often affected severely was the “Windshield Frame Lower Outer Corners”, replacement sections available and in two different versions for the C3, reflecting the design changes in the post 1973 cars.  However, while the birdcage's most afflicted components, the windshield frame’s outer corners are not unique and the hinge pillars & lock pillars (including the body mount at the bottom) also are notably rust-prone.

C4 Corvette structure diagram from Mobile Web-Cars.

To call what was used on the C4 Corvette (1984-1996) a “birdcage” was a bit of a gray area because although routinely so described, materially and structurally it was quite different from the classic template set by the C2 & C3.  What was carried over was welded steel structure surrounding the windshield frame, A-pillars, roof rails, B-pillars and rear window frame which created a defined passenger safety cell distinct from the outer composite body panels so it seems reasonable still to use the term but the C4 did not have a “stand-alone” frame onto which the body was mounted, the “birdcage” being an integral part of the frame.  There were a number of design imperatives which dictated the path chosen for the C4 and it was built with a uniframe in which front and rear frame sections were integrated, thereby providing greater rigidity so no longer was the “birdcage” a kind of bolted-on” internal scaffold but an inherent part of the whole.  The C4 was the last Corvette in which something recognizably “birdcagesque” would appear.

Chevrolet’s technical rendering of the C8’s structure.  In engineering, materials science and computing, much has advanced since 1962.

However, the structural integrity the birdcage in 1962 provided needed still to be achieved but the “brute-force” approach of the C2-C3-C4 era was replaced with more advanced techniques and by the time the mid-engined C8 was released in 2019, the platform structurally would have been unrecognizable to anyone familiar with the earlier generations.  The C8 is built around a core element (the so-called “backbone” or “spine”) which can be visualized as a large aluminum tunnel running down the centre of the car and from this the chassis gains its primary torsional stiffness; it was something like bringing the chassis of the 1962 Lotus Elan into the modern age.  The body panels are almost all non-structural and while there is (as is now universal) a reinforced “safety cell” around the cabin, this is protection of occupants in the event of an “impact incident” (better known as a “crash”).

The Birdcage: The Maserati Tipo 60/61 (chassis #2549, clothed & exposed).

Upon released in late 1962, the structure in the C2 Corvette gained the nickname “birdcage” because of the shape but before that, there was the Maserati “Birdcage”, the Tipo 60/61 (1959-1961) so dubbed because it departed from the typical approach of those building space fames in that instead of relatively few, thick tubes and sections, Maserati used many more but they were slender.  Observers were much taken with the apparent delicacy of the construction and although the engineers assured all the intricate latticework of some 200 chromoly steel tubes (welded often in triangulated form in the points of highest stress) was a design delivering both lightness and rigidity to match the more robust-looking creations.  Those admiring the intricacy were struck more by the resemblance to the thin wires of birdcages.  

Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR (W196S, upper) & 300 SL (W198, lower).

One of the reasons the Maserati’s skeleton looked so delicate was that the space-frame had become associated with Teutonic-flavored construction like that used by Mercedes-Benz for its 300 SL & 300 SLR.  Both shared the same method of construction but despite the names and the visual similarity between the two, there were few common components beyond the nuts, bolts & screws.  The 300 SL (W198; 1954-1963) was a road car while the SLR (W196S; 1955) was a lengthened version of the W196R Formula One Grand Prix car with a sexy body and an enlarged (though somewhat detuned) straight-eight engine; in the sport, it would be the last of the straight-8s.

Scale model of Maserati Typo 60/61 Birdcage by CMC.

The final and most remarkable Maserati birdcage was Tipo 63 Birdcage which featured a mid-mounted 3.0 litre V12.  The Tipo 60 & 61 used front-mounted four-cylinder engines in displacements of 2.0 & 2.9 litres and although there were problems which never wholly were solved (although the reliability did over time improved), the platform enjoyed some success because its forgiving nature lent it excellent handling characteristics and in long-distance events, the lack of power was somewhat offset by the modest fuel consumption and relative low tyre wear, time not spent in the pits as valuable as seconds shaved off lap-times.  Unlike some of its competitors, Maserati did not have the financial resources to “keep up with the times” and develop from scratch a mid-engined sports car so the factory took the approach familiar to many an American engineer and hot-rodder: put in a bigger engine.

1961 Maserati Birdcage Typo 63.  Although installing the V12 didn’t realize the hope-for success, the car will always have a place in the annals of “great moments in exhaust systems”.

Actually, the V12 wasn’t that much bigger than the largest of the four cylinder units used but, with a pedigree beginning with a brief (though unsuccessful) career in the Maserati 250F Grand Prix car, it certainly delivered more power.  Because it was a “relatively” simple matter of blending an existing engine and existing platform, the project quickly was accomplished and Maserati had a mid-engined car on the grid before anyone else and one which could top 305 km/h (190 mph) on long straights.  Unfortunately, placing the big lump of a V12 to the rear upset the Birdcage’s fine balance although one did place fourth in the 1961 Le Mans 24 Hours endurance classic (a place where a 190 mph top speed was unusually valuable), a result which proved to be the marque’s high-water mark in the famous event.

Solecism

Solecism (pronounced sol-uh-siz-uhm or soh-luh-siz-uhm)

(1) In language, a non-standard or ungrammatical usage.

(2) A breach of good manners or etiquette.

(3) Any error, impropriety, absurdity or inconsistency.

1570-1580: From the Latin soloecismus, from the Greek soloikismos, from soloikos (speaking incorrectly), the construct being Sólo(i) + -ic (from the Middle English -ik, from the Old French -ique, from the Latin -icus, from the primitive Indo-European -kos, formed with the i-stem suffix -i- and the adjectival suffix –kos.  The Ancient Greek form was -ικός (-ikós), the Sanskrit श (śa), क (ka) and the Old Church Slavonic -ъкъ (-ŭkŭ); doublet of –y; on noun stems, it carried the meaning “characteristic of, like, typical, pertaining to” and on adjectival stems, it acted emphatically) + -ism (ultimately from either the Ancient Greek -ισμός (-ismós), a suffix that forms abstract nouns of action, state, condition, doctrine; from stem of verbs in -ίζειν (-ízein) (from which English gained -ize), or from the related suffix Ancient Greek -ισμα (-isma), which more specifically expressed a finished act or thing done).  Solecism & solecist are nouns, solecistic & solecistical are adjectives and solecistically is an adverb; the noun plural is solecisms.

A solecism in sandals & socks, the look proscribed almost universally.

The meaning “gross grammatical error” or "any absurdity or incongruity" dates from the 1570s, a borrowing directly from the sixteenth century Middle French solécisme, from the Latin soloecismus (mistake in speaking or writing), which gained the word from the Greek soloikismos (to speak (Greek) incorrectly), from soloikos (an ungrammatical utterance), the literal translation of which was "speaking like the people of Sóloi, an Athenian colony in Cilicia (Mezitli in the modern-day Republic of Türkiye); there, the dialect spoken was a corrupt form of Attic Greek which Athenians condemned as barbarous.  The English, perhaps predictably, later extended the meaning to matters of etiquette, thus the sense of “awkward or rude in manners” and, by the late twentieth century, sins against fashion and good taste.

A solecism in blusher: Lindsay Lohan in court, Los Angeles October 2011.

The zombie-like look presumably wasn't intentional and it attracted some comment from professional make-up techs.  Speculation about how this happened ranged from the blusher being applied (1) in less than ideal lighting conditions, (2) in a car with only the rear-vision mirror available and (3) with bare fingers because a brush couldn't be found.  The consensus was the goal was a contoured blush look which, if applied with some delicacy, can accentuate the cheekbones but this was heavy handed and ended up as a smear across the cheeks.

Nicolás Maduro (b 1962; President of Venezuela 2013-2026, left) meeting with Grand Ayatollah Seyyed Ali Hosseini Khamenei (1939-2026; Supreme Leader of the Islamic Republic of Iran 1989-2026, right), the pair watched over by the official portrait of the Islamic Republic’s ever-unsmiling founder, Grand Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini (1900-1989; Supreme Leader, Islamic Republic of Iran, 1979-1989).  Ayatollah Khamenei seemed in 1989 an improbable choice as Supreme Leader because others were better credentialed but though cautious and uncharismatic, he was for almost four decades a great survivor in a troubled region but finally was killed by the sheer weight of US firepower and the effectiveness of its intelligence gathering (at least some of which is assumed to have come from within the Iranian regime).  What the death of the Supreme Leader reminded everyone was that bunkers have their limits so, just as recent events will have strengthened the ayatollahs' view that possession of an IND ( independent nuclear deterrent) is both wise and Godly, they'll also want deeper holes dug and more concrete poured.

The socks & sandals combo is not not solecistical if on the Supreme Leader's feet.  It’s true that for men the pairing of sandals with socks is probably more than a mere solecism and constitutes an actual crime against fashion but when one is (1) a grand ayatollah and (2) Supreme Leader, one sets the rules.  As a general principle, the Supreme Leader cannot make a fashion mistake because what the Supreme Leader does is the fashion.  Even if challenged (on a basis presumably not theological), the Supreme Leader could have cited the precedent of Grand Ayatollah Khomeini having been photographed with his feet in socks and sandals.  It's quite agreeable to live in a theocracy if one is the ruling theocrat.

The Supreme Leader meets three wise men of the Hamas.

In the Middle East, everything is of course political and that includes clothing.  Best known (and most contentious) is what is demanded of women (which can range from a minimalist (verging on symbolic) hijab to an enveloping burka) but also of interest are the feet, shoes being objects of great significance because what is done with them can be vested with political and social messaging.  This was in 2024 illustrated when the Supreme Leader met with Ismail Haniyeh (1962-2024; third chairman of the Hamas Political Bureau 2017-2024) and two members of his entourage; on a number of sites what attracted most interest was not the substantive matters discussed but the shoeless feet of the Hamas apparatchiks.  In the ensuing debate what was pondered was whether this was merely Iranian protocols being followed or whether any disrespect had been created or intended.  One theory was the Supreme Leader was wearing “indoor” sandals with his socks while the Hamas operatives, travelling only with “outdoor” shoes, removed them in deference to local practice.  The alternative conjecture was the threesome were compelled by their hosts to appear in socks in an attempt to “undermine their dignity” and diminish their status as leaders of the Palestinian resistance, the rationale for that argument being the Islamic Republic of Iran is regime of the Shia tradition (specifically the Twelver Shi'ism branch) of Islam while the Hamas substantially was Sunni.  The consensus was it was less a conspiracy than an unexceptional example of the custom of removing shoes when entering indoor spaces, customary in homes and places of prayer and widespread also in many Islamic countries.  After the event concluded, IRNA (Islamic Republic News Agency) reported that during the meeting the Supreme Leader had observed Iran: “…will not hesitate to support the Palestinian cause and the oppressed and resistant people of Gaza, praising the exemplary resilience of the Palestinian resistance forces and the people of Gaza.  The exemplary patience and steadfastness of the people of Gaza and the resistance forces during these six months, resulting from their strong faith, have prevented the Zionist enemy from achieving any of its strategic objectives in the Gaza war.”  Clearly, the “shoe incident” had not weakened Persian-Palestinian solidarity.

A young lady in Birkenstocks and socks.

Although it has long been an orthodoxy that for men not ayatollahs, wearing sandals over sock is a solecism, that rule does not apply to attractive young women (upon whom a different sub-set of rules is imposed) and for them, the fashionistas have declared the combo is now normcore (used in the attributive sense of describing a look which should be thought unremarkable).  There are still those who for any purpose reject the embrace of socks & sandals but, done well, matched with an over-sized blazer, Vogue calls the look “deconstructed business casual”.

Targa

Targa (pronounced ta-gah)

(1) A model name trade-marked by Porsche AG in 1966.

(2) In casual use, a generic description of cars with a removable roof panel between the windscreen and a truncated roof structure ahead of the rear window.

1966 (in the context of the Porsche): From the Targa Florio race in Sicily, first run in 1906 and last staged in its classic form in 1973.  In many European languages, targa (or derivatives) existed and most were related to the Proto-Germanic targǭ (edge), from the primitive Indo-European dorg- (edge, seam), from the Old Norse targa (small round shield) and the Old High German zarga (edge, rim).  The modern Italian targa (plate, shingle; name-plate; number plate or license plate; plaque; signboard; target (derived from the rounded oval or rectangle shield used in medieval times)) was ultimately from the Frankish targa (shield).  In the Old English targa (a light shield) was also from the Proto-Germanic targǭ and was cognate with the Old Norse targa and the Old High German zarga (source of the German Zarge); it was the source of the Modern English target.  The Proto-Germanic targǭ dates from the twelfth century and “target” in the sense of “round object to be aimed at in shooting” emerged in the mid eighteenth century and was used originally in archery.  Targa is a noun; the noun plural is targas.

1974 Leyland P76 Targa Florio in Omega Navy, Aspen Green & Nutmeg (without the side graphics).  Like all P76s, the Targa Florio effortlessly could fit a a 44 (imperial) gallon (53 US gallon; 205 litre) in its trunk (boot) and while it's unlikely many buyers took advantage of this, it was an indication of the impressive capacity.  The reputed ability to handle fours sets of golf clubs was probably more of a selling point but unfortunately, as the P76's rapid demise might suggest, there just weren't that many golfers. 

Although, especially when fitted with the 4.4 litre (269 cubic inch) V8, it was in many ways at least as good as the competition, the Australian designed and built Leyland P76 is remembered as the Antipodean Edsel: a total failure.  It was doomed by poor build quality, indifferent dealer support and the misfortune of being a big (in local terms) car introduced just before the first oil shock hit and the world economy sunk into the severe recession which marked the end of the long, post war boom.  It vanished in 1975, taking with it Leyland Australia's manufacturing capacity but did have one quixotic moment of glory, setting the fastest time on Special Stage 8 of the 1974 London–Sahara–Munich World Cup Rally held on the historic Targa Florio course in Palermo, Sicily (in the rally, the P76 finished a creditable 13^th).  The big V8 machine out-paced the field by several minutes and to mark the rare success, Leyland Australia built 488 "Targa Florio" versions.  Available in Omega Navy, Aspen Green or Nutmeg (a shade of brown which seemed to stalk the 1970s), the special build was mechanically identical to other V8 P76 Supers with automatic transmission but did include a sports steering wheel and aluminium road wheels, both intended for the abortive Force 7, a two-door version which was ungainly but did offer the functionality of a hatchback.  In a typical example of Leyland Australia's (and that of British Leyland generally) ineptitude, the Force 7 was being developed just as the other local manufacturers were in about to drop their larger two-doors, demand having dwindled after a brief vogue.  Only 10 of the 60-odd prototype Force 7V coupés survived the crusher but even had the range survived beyond 1974, success would have been improbable although the company should be commended for having intended to name the luxury version the Tour de Force (from the French and translated literally as "feat of strength"), the irony charming although En dépit de tout (In spite of everything) might better have capture the moment. 

Except for those which (usually) stick to numbers or alpha-numeric strings (Mercedes-Benz the classic example), coming up with a name for a car can be a tricky business, especially if someone objects.  In 1972, Ford of England was taken to court by Granada Television after choosing to call their new car a “Granada” though the judge gave the argument short shrift, pointing out (1) it was unlikely anyone would confuse a car with a TV channel and (2) neither the city nor the province of Granada in Spain’s Andalusia region had in 1956 complained when the name was adopted for the channel.  The suit was thrown out and the Ford Granada went on to such success the parent company in the US also used the name.

Spot the difference.  1966 Ford Mustang Fastback (left) and 1966 Ford T-5 Fastback (right).

In Cologne, Ford’s German outpost in 1964 had less success with names when trying to sell the Mustang in the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany, 1949-1990)) because Krupp AG held (until December 31 1978) exclusive rights to the name which it used on a range of heavy trucks, some of which were built as fire engines.  A truck couldn't be confused with a Mustang although there might have been some snobby types among the French who claimed to see some resemblance.  That would have been in the tradition of Ettore Bugatti's (1881–1947) observation in 1928 the powerful, sturdy, eponymous machines of W. O. Bentley (1888–1971) were the “world’s fastest trucks” and it was a comparison between the brutishness of those 6½ litre (actually a 6.6 (403 cubic inch) straight-six monsters with the elegant delicacy of his 2.3 litre (138 cubic inch) straight-eights which stirred his thoughts.  The gulf in 1967 between a Mustang and something like the (conceptually, vaguely similar) Renault Caravelle (1958-1968, which never grew beyond 1.1 litres (68 cubic inch)) was perhaps not so wide but would, in some French imaginations, been vivid.  Ford’s legal advice apparently was that under FRG trademark law, Kreidler AG held the rights to use the “Mustang” name for “two-wheeled vehicles” (ie motor-cycles) while Krupp AG enjoyed the same for “four-wheeled vehicles”, the act making no distinction between passenger cars and heavy trucks.  From his tomb, W.O. Bentley may have felt vindicated.

Understandably, Ford’s legal advice was to settle rather than sue so negotiations began with Ford making clear to Krupp and Kreidler it wasn't seeking exclusivity of use in the FRG and was happy for Mustang trucks and motor-cycles to continue in production.  The two German concerns responded with an offer to “share” their rights for a one-off payment of US$10,000 (in 1965, on the US West Coast, the list price for a Porsche 911 was around US$6,500) which Ford declined.  Given trucks are sold on the basis of factors like price, functionality and cost of operation rather than an abstraction like the name, why the Krupp board didn't make an effort to take advantage of what would have been good (and free) publicity seems not to be publicly available but negotiations were at that point sundered and until 1979 Mustangs in the FRG were sold as the “T-5” or “T5”.  Almost identical to the US version but for the badges and a few pieces of “localization”, the re-designated Mustang was in the 1960s one of the most popular US cars sold in Europe, aided by the then attractive US$-Deutsche Mark exchange rate and its availability in military PX (Post Exchange) stores, service personnel able to buy at a discount and subsequently have the car shipped back to the US at no cost; the system was retained (of the 4,000-odd Mustangs sold outside North America in 2012, nearly one in four was through military channels).

The badges: As they appeared on the early (1964-1966) Mustangs in most of the world (left), the T-5 badge used on early Mustangs sold in Germany (centre) and the (non-hyphenated) T5 used in Germany between 1967 and 1979 when the last was sold.

Ford also had difficulties with the FRG registration authorities.  When first made available in 1964, the T-5 was actually a standard (US-specification) Mustang with the required parts in a “T-5 Kit”, supplied in boxes in the trunk (boot) and ready to be installed by the dealer.  That approach was in the US used for a number of purposes (notably high performance parts such as multiple carburetors and the requisite manifold) but the German authorities weren’t amused and insisted all this had to be done on a production-line, explaining why all but the earliest T-5s were produced in batches.  Visually, the changes which distinguished a T-5 from a Mustang were slight and included (1) wheel covers with a plain black centre. (2) the word “Mustang” being removed from horn ring & gas (petrol) cap, metric graduations on certain instruments (such as odometers & speedometers which measured kilometres rather than miles) and (3) a “T-5” badge replacing the “Mustang” script on the flanks.  Other than these cosmetic items, mechanical changes were limited to suspension settings (including adding the shock-tower cross-brace fitted to the Shelby GT350s) better to handle continental roads and the fitting of European-specification lighting.  Curiously, although Ford obviously didn’t make much effort when coming up with the “T-5” name (it was the project code during the Mustang's development in Detroit), it did create a “T-5” badge (part number C5ZZ-6325622A) to replace the “Mustang” script on the front fenders and it was thought necessary later to do a re-design, the new one (part number CZZ-16098C) dropping the hyphen and placing the centred characters vertically.  Apparently content, the new badge was used until 1978 when Krupp’s copyright expired and the Mustang’s badges became global.  As was common, there were also running changes, a dash bezel above the glove box (with the T5 designation) introduced during 1967 and continued the next year while the 1971 range received a new dash emblem which sat in the centre, above the radio and heater controls.  However, anyone driving or sitting in a T5, unless expert in such things or unusually observant, probably wouldn’t have noticed the car was in any way different from a Mustang of that vintage.  Although the records are in places sketchy (and occasionally contradictory), the consensus is between 1964-1973, some 3,500 T5s or T-5s were produced.

Scenes from Rote Sonne (1970, promotional poster, centre): A 1966 Ford T5 (left) and some of the cast (right) with a (circa 1966) Volkswagen Type 1 (Beetle).  Note the jackboots.

Directed by Rudolf Thome (b 1939), the plotline of Rote Sonne revolves around four young Fräuleins (Peggy, Sylvie, Christine & Isolde) who have entered into a mortiferous pact to use their charms to lure men into their grasp as a prelude to murdering them.  Maybe the foursome had read Valerie Solanas's (1936-1988), S.C.U.M. Manifesto (1967) which, even today, is still about as terminal as feminism gets.  Although criticized as an example of the “pornography of violence” the film genuinely did fit into the contemporary feminist narratives of the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990), a place in which ripples from the street protests which swept Germany in 1968 were still being felt and it was in 1970 the terrorist collective Rote Armee Fraktion (Red Army Faction (RAF)) was formed; In the English-speaking world it’s better (if misleadingly) known as the Baader–Meinhof Gang.

Front page from the Krupp Mustang brochure (1958, left) announcing ...jetzt auch als Frontlenker (“...now also available as a forward control truck” (known in the US as the CoE (cab-over engine) configuration) and two pages from the 1975 Ford T5 brochure (Ghia (upper right) and Mach 1 (lower right) versions).  The photography and text (in translation) in Ford’s T5 advertising followed the originals except that whereas the US agencies usually included people, for German eyes, there were only the cars.  The CoE configuration became popular because it allowed an increased load area while still complying with the maximum length limits set in many jurisdictions. 

Front cover of 1974 Ford T-5 brochure.  Unlike with the original Mustang which “didn't have a bad angle”, photographers assigned the Mustang II needed carefully to choose the aspect because if snapped unsympathetically, it could look quite gawky.

The timing of the release of the Mustang II on 21 September, 1973 (for the 1974 season) proved exquisite because on 17 October, 1973 began the geopolitical ructions which three days later would trigger the announcement by OAPEC (Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries) of a “total embargo” of sales of oil to the US and certain other countries.  What following from that came to be known first as the “1973 oil crisis” before being re-named “first oil shock” after not dissimilar troubles in 1979; one way or another, the world has since been adjusting to the change.  The Mustang II, lighter, smaller and notably more energy-efficient than its predecessor (which as late as early 1972 had a 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 on the option list) was the right car for the time and proved a great success, despite the traditionalists being appalled at the engine choices being initially restricted to what were (compared with what had been and what would later return) rather anaemic four & six-cylinder units.

Ford T-5 brochure, the basic coupé (left) and the 3-Türer (three door) hatchback (right).  By 1974, the US manufacturers were using the word “hardtop” more loosely than the when in the 1950s & 1960s it had been standardized to mean: “no B-pillar”.  Here, it seems to be used as a synonym of “two-door coupé” although by 1974, in the US, the term “pillared hardtop” had been coined to describe those vehicles with a B-pillar but no frames for the side windows.  The Mustang II used frameless side-windows so the use may have been a nod to that and it certainly wasn't to differentiate it from a (soft-top) convertible, that body style never offered on the model.      

On paper, the more modest dimensions and fuel consumption should have made the Mustang II more suited to the German market and Ford may have had high hopes (at least as high as homes got by the mid-1970s) but the appeal of the early Mustangs was the relatively compact (in US terms) size and the small-displacement (again, in US terms) V8s (260 & 289 cubic inch; 4.2 & 4.7 litre) making the car something of a “sweet spot” in what was a small but lucrative German niche.  In the 1960s, there was no European-made car quite like it, thus the small but devoted following enjoyed by the early T5s but the Mustang II used a template which was quasi-European and the most obvious comparison was with Ford’s own Capri II, built in Cologne and on any objective measure the Capri II was a better car than a Mustang II (T5), most Germans (an other Europeans) concluding while there were reasons to buy a Mustang, there were few to buy a Mustang II.  So good was the German Capri it was for years exported to the US where, sold by Mercury dealers, often it was the best-selling import, was withdrawn from sale after 1977 only because the strength of the Deutsch Mark (the FRG’s currency) against the US dollar rendered the project unviable.  Production numbers for the T-5s based on the Mustang II are disputed and it’s believed the total was “low three figures”, the appeal of the 1973-1978 T-5s not greatly enhanced by the addition in 1975 of an optional 4.9 litre (302 cubic inch) V8 which increased fuel consumption rather more than it improved performance.  As a footnote, Ford called the 4.9 a “5.0” to avoid confusion with their 300 cubic inch straight-six truck engine (which, like the 302, was a true 4.9).  Because the 300 wasn’t used in Australia, there the 302s (one of which was a unique “Cleveland 302”) were (after 1973 when the country switched to metric measures) badged 4.9 to provide greater market differentiation from the companion 5.8 (351) V8.

1964 Daimler (C-Specification) SP250 (née Dart) in London Metropolitan Police configuration.

The wire wheels are a later edition, all police SP250s supplied originally with steel wheels & "dog dish" hubcaps); many (non-police) SP250s have also subsequently been fitted with the wheels.  Scotland Yard purchased some 30 SP250s (all automatics) attracted by their 120+ mph (195 km/h) performance, allowing them to out-pace all but the fastest two and four-wheeled vehicles then on the road.  Police forces in Australia and New Zealand also adopted SP250s as highway patrol vehicles.

The Daimler SP250 was first shown to the public at the 1959 New York Motor Show and there the problems began.  Aware the sports car was quite a departure from the luxurious but rather staid line-up Daimler had for years offered, the company had chosen the attractively 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 also reverted to the engineering project name and thus the car became the SP250 which was innocuous enough even for Chrysler's attorneys.  The Dodge Dart didn't for long stay big, the name in 1964 re-used for a compact line although it was the generation made between 1967-1977 which was most successful and almost immediately Chrysler regretted the decision to cease production, the replacement range (the Dodge Aspen & Plymouth Volaré (1976-1980)) one of the industry's disasters.  The name was revived in 2012 for a new Dodge Dart, a small, front wheel drive (FWD) car which was inoffensive but dreary and lasted only until 2016.  The SP250 was less successful still, not even 3000 made between 1959-1964, something attributable to (1) the unfortunate styling, (2) the antiquated chassis, (3) the lack of development which meant there were basic flaws in the body engineering of the early versions and (4) the lack of interest by Jaguar which in 1960 had purchased Daimler, its interest in the manufacturing capacity acquired rather than the product range.  It was a shame because the SP250's exquisite 2.5 litre (155 cubic inch) V8 deserved better.  

Lindsay Lohan with Porsche 911 Targa 4 (997), West Hollywood, 2008.  The Targa was reportedly leased by her former special friend, DJ Samantha Ronson (b 1977).

Sometimes though, numbers could upset someone.  Even in the highly regulated EEC (European Economic Community, the origin of the European Union (EU)) of the 1960s, a company in most cases probably couldn’t claim exclusive rights to a three number sequence but Peugeot claimed exactly that when Porsche first showed their new 901 in 1963.  Asserting they possessed the sole right to sell in France car with a name constructed with three numbers if the middle digit was a zero, the French requested the Germans rename the thing.  It was the era of Franco-German cooperation and Porsche did just that, announcing the new name would be 911, a machine which went on to great things and sixty years on, remains on sale although, the lineage is obvious, only the odd nut & bolt is interchangeable between the two.  So all was well that ends well even if the French case still seems dubious because Mercedes-Benz had for years been selling in France cars labelled 200 or 300 (and would soon offer the 600). Anyway, this time, it was the project name (901) which was discarded (although it remained as the prefix on part-numbers) and surviving examples of the first 82 cars produced before the name was changed are now highly prized by collectors.

Sometimes however, the industry uses weird names for no obvious reason and some of the cars produced for the JDM (Japanese domestic market) are, to Western ears, truly bizarre though perhaps for a Japanese audience they’re compellingly cool.  Whatever might be the rationale, the Japanese manufacturers have give the world some memorable monikers including (1) from Honda the Vamios Hobio Pro & the That's, (2) from Mazda the Titan Dump, the Scrum Truck & the Bongo Brawny, (3) from Mitsubishi the Super Great, the eK-Classy, the Town Box, the Mirage Dingo Teddy Bear & the Homy Super Long, (4) from Suzuki the Solio Bandit & the Mighty Boy, (5) from Toyota the Royal Lounge Alphard, (6) from Subaru the Touring Bruce, (7) from Nissan the Big Thumb, the Elgrand Highway Star & the Cedric and (8) from Cony, the Guppy.

1964 Porsche 901 (left), 1968 Porsche 911L Targa (soft window) (centre) and 1969 Porsche 911S Targa (right)

Compared with that lot, Porsche deciding to call a car a Targa seems quite restrained.  Porsche borrowed the name from Targa Florio, the famous race in the hills of Sicily first run in 1906 and where Porsche in the 1950s had enjoyed some success.  Long, challenging and treacherous, it originally circumnavigated the island but the distance was gradually reduced until it was last run in its classic form in 1973 although in even more truncated form it lingered until 1977.  The construct of the name of the Targa Florio, the race in Italy from which Porsche borrowed the name, was Targa (in the sense of “plate” or “shield” + Florio, a tribute to Vincenzo Florio (1883-1959), a rich Sicilian businessman, automobile enthusiast and scion of a prominent family of industrialists and sportsmen; it was Vincenzo Florio who in 1906 founded the race.  Porsche won the race seven times between between 1963-1970 and took victory in 1973 in a 911 Carrera RSR, the car which in its street-legal (the Carrera RS) form remains among the most coveted of all the 911s and many replicas have been created.  Porsche didn't make any 1973 Carrera RS Targas; all were coupés.

1976 Porsche 914 2.0 with factory-fitted heckblende in Nepal Orange over black leatherette with orange & black plaid inserts.  All the mid-engined 914 built for public sale had a targa top although for use in competition the factory did a few with a fixed roof to gain additional rigidity.  The 914 was the first of a number of attempts by Porsche’s engineers to convince customers there were better configurations than the rear-engine layout used on the 911 & 912.  The customers continued to demand 911s and, the customer always being right, rear-engined 911s remain available to this day.  Porsche now offers front & mid-engined models so presumably honor is thought satisfied on both sides.   

1938 Packard 1605 Super Eight Sedanca de Ville by Barker.

The idea of a vehicle with a removable roof section over the driver is more ancient even than the Porsche 911.  Now, a “town car” is imagined as something small and increasingly powered in some Greta Thunberg (b 2003) approved way but in the US, what was sold as a “Town Car” used to be very big, very thirsty (for fossil fuels) and a prodigious emitter of greenhouse gasses.  The idea had begun in Europe as the coupé de ville, deconstructed as the French coupé (an elliptical form of carosse coupé (cut carriage)) and the past participle of couper (to cut) + de ville (French for “for town”).  So, it was, like the horse-drawn coupé carriage, a smaller conveyance for short-distance travel within cities, often just for two passengers who sat sometimes in an enclosed compartment and sometimes under a canopy while the driver was always exposed to the elements.  In the UK, the style was often advertised as the clarence carriage.  The coach-builders of the inter-war years created naming practices which were not consistent across the industry but did tend to be standardized within individual catalogues.  In the US, reflecting the horse-drawn tradition, the coupé de ville was Anglicized as coupe de ville and appeared as both “town brougham” and “town car”, distinguished by the enclosed passenger compartment (trimmed often in cloth) and the exposed driver who sat on more weather resistant leather upholstery.

1974 Lincoln Continental Town Car.  The big Lincolns of the 1970s are about as remote as can be imagined from the original idea of something small and agile for use in congested cities but Ford also called this body style the "pillared hardtop" so by then, linguistic traditions clearly meant little.

Dating from the 1920s, a variant term was “Sedanca de ville”, briefly used to describe a particular configuration for the roof but so attractive was the word it spread and soon there appeared were Sedancas and Sedanca coupés.  Like many designations in the industry, it soon ceased to carry an exact meaning beyond the front seats being open to the skies although by the 1920s there was usually a detachable or folding (even some sliding metal versions were built) roof and windscreens had become a universal fitting.  For a while, there probably was (unusually in an industry which often paid scant attention to the details of etymology) an understanding a Sedanca de ville was a larger vehicle than a Sedanca coupé but the former term became the more generally applied, always on the basis of the ability of the driver’s compartment to be open although it’s clear many of the vehicles were marketed towards owner-drivers rather than those with chauffeurs, that cohort having moved towards fully enclosed limousines.  It’s from the Sedanca tradition the US industry later picked up the idea of the “town car” although the association was vague and had nothing to do with an open driver’s cockpit; it was understood just as a model designation which somehow implied “prestige”.

1968 Triumph TR5 with “Surrey Top”.

Porsche had since the late 1940s been building roadsters and cabriolets but while the 911 (then known internally as Project 901) was under development, it was clear US regulators, in reaction to a sharply rising death toll on the nation’s highways, were developing some quite rigorous safety standards and a number of proposals had been circulated which threatened to outlaw the traditional convertible.  Thus the approach adopted which, drawing from the company’s experience in building race cars, essentially added a stylized roll-over bar which could accommodate a detachable roof-section over the passengers and a folding rear cover which included a Perspex screen (the solid rear glass would come later).  Actually, the concept wasn’t entirely novel, Triumph introducing something similar on their TR4 roadsters (1961-1967) although their design consisted of (1) a half-hard top with an integral roll-bar & fixed glass rear window and (2) two detachable (metal & vinyl) panels which sat above the passengers.  Customers universally (and still to this day) referred to this arrangement as the “Surrey Top” although Triumph insisted only the vinyl insert and its supporting frame was the “Surrey” while the rest of the parts collectively were the “Hard Top kit”.  The targaesque top was available on the TR5 (1967-1969), a de-tuned version of which was sold in North America as the TR250 with twin carburetors replacing the Lucas mechanical fuel-injection used in most other markets, the more exotic system then unable to comply with the new emission standards.

1953 Ford X-100 with roof panel retracted (left), the Quincunxed five carburetor apparatus atop the 317 cubic inch (5.2 litre) Lincoln Y-Block V8 (centre) and the built-in hydraulic jacking system in use (right).

However, long before Porsche told us there were Targa and a decade before even Triumph’s Surrey, Ford had displayed a two-seat “targa”.  In the years to come, things like the 1953 Ford X-100 would be called “concept cars” but that term didn’t then exist so Ford used the more familiar “dream car” and that does seem a more romantic way of putting it.  Reflecting the optimistic spirit of the early post-war years, the X-100 included a number of innovations including the use of radial-ply tyres, a built-in hydraulic jacking system, a rain-sensor which automatically would trigger an electric motor to close the sliding plexiglass roof panel, a built-in dictaphone, a telephone in the centre console and the convenience of heated seats and an electric shaver mounted in the glove compartment.  Some of the features became mainstream products, some not and while the “variable volume horn” wasn’t picked up by the industry, one did appear on the Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100; 1963-1981) although that was a rare supportive gesture.  It was also an age of imaginative labels and Ford called their quincunx induction system the “Multi-Plex”; while the engineering proved a cul-de-sac, the name did later get picked up by multi-screen suburban cinema complexes.  For the X-100, Ford used what was then a popular technique in the lunatic fringe of the burgeoning hot rod: an induction system using five carburettors in a Quincunx pattern.  Inherent difficulties and advances in engineering meant the fad didn’t last but the apparatus remins pleasing to those with a fondness of unusual aluminium castings and intricate mechanical linkages.  X-100 still exists and is displayed at the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan.

1969 Mercury Marauder X-100.  In 1969, the blacked-out trunk (boot) lid and surrounds really was done by the factory.  During the administration of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974), things were not drab and predictable.

In a number of quirky coincidences, the name X-100 seems to once have been an industry favourite because as well as the 1953 Ford “dream car”, it was the US Secret Service’s designation for the 1961 Lincoln Continental parade convertible in which John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) was assassinated in Dallas, Texas.  One might have thought that macabre association might have been enough for the “X-100” tag to not again be used but, presumably because the Secret Service’s internal codes weren’t then general public knowledge, in 1969 Ford’s Mercury division released an X-100 as an up-market version of its second generation (1969-1970) Marauder.  Notionally, the X-100 was a “high performance” version but its 365 (gross) horsepower 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 was an option in lesser priced Marauders which meant the X-100, weighed down by the additional luxury fittings, was just a little slower than the cheaper models with the 429.  The market for “full-sized” high performance cars was anyway by 1969 in the final stages of terminal decline and although an encouraging 5635 were sold in 1969, sales the next year fell to 2646 and the X-100 was retired at the end of the 1970 and not replaced.  Most bizarre though was project X-100, a US$75 million (then a lot of what was at the time borrowed money) contract in 1943 awarded to Chrysler to design, machine and nickel-plate the inner surfaces of the cylindrical diffusers required to separate uranium isotopes.  Part of the Manhattan Project which built the world’s first atomic bombs, Chrysler built over 3,500 diffusers used at the plant in Oak Ridge, Tennessee and many were still in service as late as the 1980s.  Not until after the first A-bomb was used against Hiroshima in August 1945 did most of the X-100 project’s workers become aware of the use being made of the precision equipment they were producing.

Built by Ferrari: 1973 Dino 246 GTS with "chairs & flares" options.  The "GTS" stood for "Gran Tourismo Spider" but it was a true targa in the sense codified by Porsche.

The rhyming colloquialism “chairs and flares” (C&F to the Ferrari cognoscenti and these days the early Dinos are an accepted part of the family) is a reference to a pair of (separately available) options available on later production Dino 246s.  The options were (1) seats with inserts (sometimes in a contasting color) in the style used on the 365 GTB/4 (Daytona) & (2) wider Campagnolo Elektron wheels (which the factory only ever referred to by size) which necessitated flared wheel-arches.  In the early 1970s the factory wasn’t too punctilious in the keeping of records so it’s not known how many cars were originally built equipped with the wider (7½ x 14” vs 6½ x 14”) wheels but some privately maintained registers exist and on the basis of these it’s believed production was probably between 200-250 cars from a total run of 3569 (2,295 GT coupés & 1,274 GTS spiders (targa)).  They appear to have been most commonly ordered on UK & US market cars (although the numbers for Europe are described as “dubious” and thought an under-estimate; there are also an unknown number in other countries), the breakdown of verified production being:

246 GT: UK=22, Europe=5, US=5.
246 GTS: UK=21, Europe=2, US=91.

The “chairs and flares” cars are those which have both the Elektron option and the Daytona-style seats but because they were available separately, some were built with only one of the two, hence the existence of other slang terms in the Dino world including “Daytona package”, “Sebring spiders” and, in the UK, the brutish “big arches”.  In 1974, the Dino's option list (in US$) comprised:

Power windows: $270.00
Metallic paint: $270.00
Leather upholstery: $450.00
Daytona type central seat panels: $115.00
Air-conditioning: $770.00
14 x 7½ wheels & fender flares: $680.00
AM/FM/SW radio: $315.00
Electric antenna & speakers: $100.00

At a combined US$795.00, the C&F combo has proved a good investment, now adding significantly to the price of the anyway highly collectable Dino.  Although it's hard to estimate the added value because so many other factors influence calculation, all else being equal, the premium would seem to to be well over US$100,000.  Because it involves only wheels, upholstery and metal, the modifications are technically not difficult to emulate although the price of a modified vehicle will not match that of an original although unlike some of the more radical modifications to Ferraris (such as conversions to roadsters), creating a C&F out of a standard 246 seems not to lower its value.  These things are always relative; in 1974 the C&F option added 5.2% to the Dino GTS's list price and was just under a third the cost of a new small (in US terms a "sub-compact") car such as the Chevrolet Vega (1970-1977).

An enduring design: 2023 Porsche 911 Targa 4 (992).

Porsche didn’t complicate things, in 1966 offering the Targa as an alternative to the familiar coupé, then in series production since 1964.  Briefly, the company flirted with calling the car the 911 Flori but ultimately Targa was preferred and the appropriate trademarks were applied for in 1965, the factory apparently discovering targa in Italian means “number plate” or “license plate” only that year when the translators were working on international editions of the sales brochures.  The now familiar fixed, heated rear screen in safety glass was first offered in 1967 as an alternative to the one in fold-down plastic one and such was the demand it soon became the standard fitting.  The Targa carried over into the 911’s second and third generation being, re-designed for 1993 in a way that dispensed with the roll bar and it wouldn’t be until 2011 the familiar shape returned.

1970 Iso Grifo Targa (Series I, 350 cubic inch (5.7 litre) Chevrolet V8, left) and 1971 Iso Grifo Can-Am Targa (Series II, 454 cubic inch (7.4 litre) Chevrolet V8, right).  The raised centre section on the hood (bonnet) of the big-block Grifos was known informally as the "penthouse"; it was required because the induction system sat higher than on the small-block cars.  Not all approved of the penthouse because they found it discordant with the otherwise flowing lines but its brutish functionalism seems a fitting tribute brute force beneath.

Among the small volume manufactures which in the post-war years found a lucrative niche in combining sensuous European coachwork with the cheap, powerful and robust American V8s, there was a focus on two-door coupés because (1) this was the example set by Ferrari and (2) there most demand in the segment clearly existed.  The ecosystem was sent extinct by the first oil shock of the early 1970s but in the era, some did offer convertibles and where not, there were specialists prepared to help.  There was though, the odd targa.  The achingly lovely Iso Grifo spyder (roadster) shown at the Geneva Motor Show in 1964 never reached production but in 1966, less than two years into the Grifo’s life (during which almost 100 had been made), the factory put a targa version on their stand at the Turin Motor Show.  It was only ever available to special order on a POA (price on application) basis and between then and the shuttering of the factory in 1974, only 17 were built, four of which were the Series II Can-Ams with the big-block Chevrolet V8.