Showing posts sorted by date for query Epoch. Sort by relevance Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by date for query Epoch. Sort by relevance Show all posts

Saturday, July 18, 2026

Epoch

Epoch (pronounced ep-uhk or ee-pok)

(1) A particular period of time marked by distinctive features, events etc.

(2) The beginning of a distinctive period in the history of anything.

(3) A point in time distinguished by a particular event or state of affairs; a memorable date.

(4) In geology, any of several divisions of a geologic period during which a geologic series is formed (much associated with rock formation).  An epoch (the shortest division of geologic time) is a sub-division of a period.  As a geochronologic unit, an epoch can range between hundreds of thousands to millions of years.

(5) In astronomy, an arbitrarily fixed instant of time or date, usually the beginning of a century or half century, used as a reference in giving the elements (such as coordinates of a planetary orbit) relating to a celestial body.

(6) In astronomy, the mean longitude of a planet as seen from the sun at such an instant or date.

(7) In chronology, astronomy & computing, a specific instant in time, chosen as the point of reference or zero value of a system that involves identifying instants of time.

(8) In physics, the displacement from zero at zero time of a body undergoing simple harmonic motion (the displacement of an oscillating or vibrating body at zero time).

(9) In AI (artificial intelligence), one complete presentation of the training data set to an iterative machine learning algorithm.

1605-1615: From the Medieval Latin epocha, from the Ancient Greek ἐποχή (epokhḗ) (epochē) (a check, cessation, stop, pause, fixed time, epoch of a star (ie the point at which it seems to halt after reaching the highest, and more generally the place of a star (thus the extension of use to “a historical epoch”))), from ἐπέχω (epékhō, (to hold in, check), the construct being ἐπι- (epi-) (upon) + ἔχω (ékhō) (to have, hold), from the primitive Indo-European root segh- (to hold).  The early seventeenth century adoption in English of epocha was in the sense of “point marking the start of a new period in time” and it was used by scholars and theologians of momentous events in history (the crucifixion of Christ; the Visigoths gathering at the gates of Rome etc).  Less than a decade after epocha had entered the language, the transferred meaning “a period of time” was in use and it entered the jargon of geology in 1802 although the technology then did not permit precise measurements and exploration was then embryonic (what are now understood as dinosaur fossils not so classified until 1824) so most of the early estimates of geological epochs were inaccurate.

Confusingly, “epoch” can be used either to refer to a distinct and defined historic period (ie with an agreed beginning & end) or the event associated with the beginning of that period.  The latter concept is best understood in the adjectival forms “epoch-making” and “epochful”.  Subepoch is a technical term from geology, used as a geochronologic unit comprising one or more ages, being a period of generally agreed significance within an epoch.  The companion superepoch (two or more sequential epochs references as one for illustrative or didactic purposes is non-standard.  In statistical analysis, sub_epoch, base-epoch, super_epoch & primary_epoch exist as commands in aspects of database handling and manipulation, the link being the use of “datum” as epoch’s coordinate term in cartography and engineering.  The alternative form epocha was in use between the seventeenth & nineteenth centuries.  Epoch is a noun & verb, epochful, epocjless & epochal are adjectives and epochally is an adverb; the noun plural is epochs.

Bal du moulin de la Galette (Dance at Le Moulin de la Galette, 1876), oil on canvas by Pierre-Auguste Renoir (1841–1919), Musée d'Orsay, Paris

The Belle Époque (appearing in texts often as La Belle Époque with capitalization not always used) was a period in European history characterized by peace, progress, cultural refinement and artistic innovation; the term was an adoption of the French La Belle Époque (literally “the beautiful era” and best understood as “the golden age”).  Historians date the start of the Belle Époque from the end of the Franco-Prussian War (1970-1871) although, “on the ground” it likely wasn’t so clear-cut because the impositions of war reparations made the first few post-war years “difficult” in France so “mid-1870s” may be a better point of origin.  The Belle Époque lasted until the blast of World War I (1914-1918) destroyed the continent’s sense of optimism and ended an era characterized by what might now be call an “end of history” feeling that held things like wars, famines and plagues were in the past and the future would be one of progress and improvement.

Art Nouveau.

An advertisement (1899) for Moët & Chandon's champagnes, designed by Czech painter & graphic artist Alphonse Mucha (1860–1939):  “White Star” champagne (left) & “Grand Crémant Imperial” (right).  The product is very much a period piece, Art Nouveau characterized by swirling shapes, stylized representations of women and intricate floral motifs.  For those with enough disposable income, La Belle Époque must have been an amusing time to live.  The “modern industrial” sense later summoned by the straight, sharp and geometric lines of Art Deco was a deliberate rejection of Art Nouveau's intricate, hand-crafted aesthetic yet in Art Deco the influence of the earlier style often is apparent.  Although by the 1920s unfashionable and in the inter-war years casually dismissed by many critics and historians, Art Nouveau's popular appeal never went away.  While there was never really a “revival”, the style's motifs remained a staple of commercial graphic art and the various “nostalgia movements” before being “cherry picked” by pop art, psychedelia and postmodernists.   

Those 40-odd years of what came to be called La Belle Époque were not without conflict or economic disruptions and it must be remembered Europe’s “golden age” was one of untroubled pleasure only for a select few, most of the population living lives of hard labor and drudgery, many on a variation of the Hobbesian (the very clever and deliciously wicked English philosopher Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679)) path: “nasty, crowded, brutish and short”.  La Belle Époque is a selective construct of the era’s intellectual and aesthetic landmarks in art, literature and architecture, characterized by opulence, eclecticism and an undeniable dynamism from which emerged movements such as Futurism, Cubism and Art Nouveau.  Viewed from our troubled times, the Belle Époque exists in a warm nostalgic glow and it’s telling the term first gained popularity in France during the 1930s, the decade of the Great Depression.  Even then, La Belle Époque was still in living memory but because it became mythologised as a “golden age”, it was as myth it passed into history.

Lindsay Lohan entering her fifth decade.  Her five eras thus far may loosely be labelled: (1) child star, (2) troubled Hollywood starlet, (3) nemesis, (4) reinvention and (5) redemption.

Signed to the Ford agency, Lindsay Lohan secured her first modelling gig aged three but what’s understood as the “Lindsay Lohan era” ran for the decade after the release of Mean Girls (2004).  It was characterized by her low-speed car crashes, court appearances and becoming a staple of the tabloid press and lower reaches of the glossy magazine industry, a reasonable contribution to GDP (gross domestic product), providing predictable cash flow for paparazzi on both sides of the Atlantic.  Improbable as it once seemed, she proved a survivor in the churn of the industry's destructive “child star” machine and on 2 July, 2026 celebrated her 40th birthday.  That happened during the 23rd FIFA (Fédération Internationale de Football Association (the International Federation of Association Football which, for historic reasons, recognizes more countries than the UN (United Nations)) World Cup and, on the day, playing at the Bay Area Stadium in Santa Clara, San Francisco, USA beat Bosnia-Herzegovina 2-0 so that was a good birthday present.  

Geologyin's illustration of the concept of geological epochs.

In scientific usage there is precision, the ICS (International Commission on Stratigraphy) codifying a strict hierarchy on the discipline of geology, the structure being Eon → Era → Period → Epoch → Age.  However, in ordinary English discourse (and even in the work of professional scholars and historians) there is no fixed hierarchy in that an age may be longer than an era and an era may be longer than an epoch; unless following established conventions, writers can opt for whichever word best conveys the intended nuance, a choice that can be influenced by the search for rhetorical effect or the rhythm of the narrative.  So, in the way of English, there are no “rules” but, as a general principle, (1) Age = “known for...”, (2) Era = “lasting period of...” and (3) Epoch = “a period with a turning point that defined its nature.  The overlaps in use don’t usually cause confusion but among the fastidious there are acknowledged nuances and accepted conventions of use:

(1) An epoch is a distinct period marked by particular characteristics or events, thus the use in geology where defining changes or sets of conditions can be established by scientific techniques such as chemical analysis or radiocarbon dating.  In non-scientific use, because of the etymological lineage, an epoch typically begins with some sort of event thought a turning point or watershed and this can be an organic development with no exact fixed date (the Industrial Revolution) or something decidedly exact (the epoch of the computer operating system Unix is defined as 00:00:00 UTC, 1 January 1970 although this was not first set precisely then).

(2) An age is a period with a specific, dominant association.  That might be a technology (bronze age; oil age; jet age etc), a characteristic (age of empires; age of European colonialism etc) or an individual (Napoleonic age; Elizabethan Age etc).  Unlike the epochs of geologists and astronomers, “ages” can run in parallel or overlap.  While some are sequential such as the “Three Age System” (Stone Age; Bronze Age; Iron Age) tracking the evolution of humanity's tools and metalworking capabilities between prehistory and Antiquity, others can co-exist such as the Age of Sail & Age of Enlightenment.  Because of the nature of the word and historic pattern of use, of the three, “age” is the most flexible and adaptable because it’s merely associative, not exclusive and often with no precise chronology.

(3) An era is a period (by human standards usually but not necessarily long) with origins at a certain point (usually an event) and characterized by an enduring pattern; eras tend to be major historical phases or systems (the Nazi era; the analogue era etc).  Generally “era” is used to denote something coherent (though it need not be long); a stretch of history with a recognizable character, a beginning and an end.  That can reference the life of an individual (Queen Victoria lent her name to the “Victorian era” 1837-1901), several individuals (there were four Kings of England named George whose collective reign defined the “Georgian era” 1714-1830) or a specific closed-time set (the “inter war era”: 1918-1939).

Eras tour merchandise.  Canvas tapestry featuring photographs from Taylor Swift’s The Eras Tour, cotton canvas, 800 mm (31½ inches) x 1220 mm (48 inches).

Taylor Swift’s “Eras” project tends to be thought of as a concert tour but it’s better imagined as pop culture’s greatest ever exercise in vertical integration, a merging of music (audio streaming, packaged (in multiples in the case of the vinyl releases) & live performance), video content, merchandise ranging from framed posters, a “limited edition” book, a film with concert footage, outfits emulating those worn on stage, jewellery, hoodies, pillows, stainless steel tumblers and more.  Although there has in recent years been a bit of mission creep, the idea of a canvas tapestry as a piece of tour merchandise in the pop music business would, until recently, likely have occurred to few.  Commerce has moved on from a half-century earlier when, at a Led Zeppelin concert, one might be able to buy a Tee-shirt (in S, M, L & XL), maybe with a choice of black or white (black quickly selling out).

Ms Swift is good with words and for the “Eras” project may have pondered using “Ages” or “Epochs”.  Given the accepted conventions (Age = “known for...”, Era = “lasting period of...” and Epoch = “a period with a turning point that defined its nature.”) and the concept of the “Eras” project, a convincing case could have been made for “Ages” because each subset was thematically distinct while the use of “Epochs” would have worked because the word is understood as a “period of time with a beginning and end” but linking each with a single “triggering event” might have descended to abstractions so “Eras” seems the best choice.  Certainly it’s unlikely she long considered using “Periods”; although etymologically defensible, it would have been decarded on much the same basis as that of the publishers of the magazine Australian Women’s Weekly who, upon in 1983 switching to issuing monthly editions, opted not to change the title to “Women’s Monthly”.

There is of course a vagueness associated with the definitions because not all “eras” and “ages” have as convenient bookends the end of one war and the start of another; that’s why context can matter.  In speaking of the time after World War II (1939-1945), “post-war era” is a common term but the meaning can vary depending on what’s being discussed.  It’d be absurd to speak of 2026 as being in the “post-war” era (although in a sense that’s true) so meaning must be gleaned from context.  The two decade period 1918-1939 came to be called both the “inter-war” and “pre-war” era (although many tend to restrict the latter to a start-point in the mid-1930s) and in much historiography there's sometimes the suggestion the “post-war” era can usefully be said to have ended some 20 years hence; that’s about 1965 so conveniently (1) in the new era of the High Cold War, (2) about the length of a then typical “generation” and (3) in the 1960s, a very different era.  So it can be inexact and some with a focus on political economy fix the end date on exactly 17 October 1973, the day OAPEC (Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries) proclaimed an oil embargo targeting the US and other states providing military aid to Israel during the 1973 Yom Kippur War.  At that point, the West’s long post-war boom, although already stuttering, ended.  In a similar vein, although also very much a Western-centric view, some historians have argued the nineteenth century is best imagined as a construct running from the close of the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815) to the outbreak of World War I (1914-1918).  There’s much support for that although there are different views about the conceptual view of the twentieth century. While 1914 seems a logical starting-point, candidates for the end date include 1989 (fall of the Berlin Wall (1961-1989)), 1991 (dissolution of the Soviet Union (1922-1911)) and the 9/11 terrorist strikes in 2001.

Taylor Swift Style: Fashion through the eras.

Between March 2023 and December 2024, Taylor Swift’s “Eras” tour took in 149 shows in 51 cities over five continents; each performance ran for a remarkable 3½ hours and there was a mid-tour revision of the song set to interpolate material The Tortured Poets Department (2024), her eleventh studio album.  The “Eras” title was an allusion to the show’s format, a retrospective in which each of her albums was designated as a “musical era”, the many outfits worn tied to those themes and just as each song and each performance was a product, so could be each outfit, some available on-line for purchase by devoted Swifties.  So, as set piece events go, Ms Swift set a high bar and, on revenues in excess of US$2 billion, profits were high and continue to grow.

Even when there are precise start and end dates, things can at the margin become blurred.  Pedants enjoy pointing out the 1960s began on 1 January 1961 so an expression like “the 1960s” ends on 31 December 1969 but the decade in which most of those years existed actually includes 1970, a quirk which extends also to centuries and millennia, something ultimately a product of there being no year zero in the calendar now defining BCE (before Common Era) and CE (Common Era) (the pair the secular version of BC (Before Christ) and AD (from the Latin Anno Domini (in the year of the Lord)), all based on the (nominal) birth date of Jesus Christ.  “Ages” and “eras” can at once be “exact” and “indicative”.  Many of the civilizations of antiquity all had their so-called “golden ages” and these tended to be associated with particular dynasties or reigns.  The examples are many and are cross-cultural, including the Gupta Empire in India (mid-third to mid-sixth century AD) founded by Mahārāja Śrī-Gupta, the Tang dynasty (626-684) & the reign of Tae-tsong (618-626) in China and, in Egypt, the reigns of Sethos I and Ram'eses II (1336-1224 BC).  In the West, the use of “golden ages” is legion including in Russia during the rule of Czar Peter the Great (1672-1725) (memorable because the Russian people have not enjoyed many “golden ages”) and, of course, in England, the “Elizabethan age”, referencing the reign of Elizabeth I (1533–1603; Queen of England & Ireland 1558-1603).  However, at the granular level, the idea of the term “Elizabethan age” denoting a “golden age” in literature was contested by the English writer, literary scholar and Anglican lay theologian C. S. Lewis (1898–1963) who, in his Introduction to English Literature in the Sixteenth Century (1654), distinguished the “estimable” literature of the later Elizabethan period from what he called that of the earlier “drab age”.  Lewis found drabness in the poetry and prose of the later medieval period up to the early Renaissance, distinguishing it from the “golden era style” between circa 1580-1603.  Lewis was an uncompromising critic but while most in the profession may well agree much that was written in the fifteenth century and early Tudor period was “drab”, among those published in the period were Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503-1542) and John Skelton (circa 1460-1529); their writing was not beyond criticism but the works were hardly drab.

Sarah Chapelle's (b 1992) Swiftie site documenting looks from The Eras tour: Fearless v6 (worn 18 October, 2024, far left), Midnights v5 (worn 16 August, 2024, centre left), 1989 v2 (worn 19 March, 2023, centre right) and Reputation v1 (worn 18 March, 2023, far right).  Some outfits can be purchased on-line but buyers should note they should not expect their appearance exactly to emulate what's “on the tin”.  

Simulacrum describes an image that while not purely realistic, maintains enough of a likeness for the subject to be recognizable.  In some jurisdictions it can be deemed “deceptive and misleading” if a product is represented in manner judged to be a “deliberate misrepresentation” intended to induce a purchase.  Legal recourse is available but is practical only if enough money is involved (such as real estate); although in theory someone purchasing a McDonalds Big Mac after being tempted by the image in the advertising might have grounds for an action, a claim of under $US10 would not impress a judge and even a class action would, on several grounds, be thrown out.  Presumably a disgruntled consumer could lodge a claim for the “pain & suffering” caused by one's Big Mac not looking as attractive as the one in the advertising but that'd likely anger the judge still more.  The classic simulacrums were the stylish images rendered in the 1960s by Art Fitzpatrick (1919–2015) & Van Kaufman (1918-1995) for GM’s (General Motors) PMD (Pontiac Motor Division) and those of Ms Swift in the Eras Tour outfits are in the same “mannerist but not quite surrealist” tradition.  Although obviously “unrealistic”, these depictions are not “deceptive and misleading” because they’re so obviously simulacral and exist only as devices, the extent of the licence taken illustrated by them appearing next to a flesh & blood Ms Swift in the same outfit.  They are “impossible” rather than “idealized”.

Super simulacrum: The Colossus of Rhodes (circa 1560), hand-colored by Dutch portrait and religious painter Maarten van Heemskerck (1498–1574) on an engraving by Dutch publisher & designer Philip Galle (1537–1612).

The Colossus of Rhodes was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World and although it stood for barely half a century before being felled by an earthquake, it's ruins lying for almost a millennium as a kind of tourist attraction before the metal was carted of as scrap to be melted-down an re-cycled.  The notion the statue's legs straddled the entrance to Rhodes Harbor with tall-masted ships passing between them was wholly fanciful; even with modern materials and techniques, such a construction would be impossible.  The engineers and architects of the sixteenth century would of course have known it couldn't be done but such was the allure of the era of Classical Antiquity that brilliant myths seduced the public imagination better than tiresome facts.

Other “era-related” terminology also often used interchangeably relates to that long span of history between the fall of the Western Roman Empire (476 AD) and the dawn of the Renaissance in the late fourteenth century: (1) Middle Ages, (2) Dark Ages and (3) Medieval.  “Middle Ages” is the most obviously descriptive because it refers to the period between the dying gasps of Classical Antiquity and the cultural & artistic revival of the Renaissance while Medieval simply means “relating to the Middle Ages” (although by virtue of association and use, it came to be used also as a slur).  As general principle, historians tend to divide the Middle Ages into (1) Early (476-circa 1000), (2) High (circa 1000-circa 1300) and (3) Late (circa 1300-circa 1500).  “Dark Ages” reflected the prejudices of fifteenth century writers who regarded the earlier Middle Ages (476-circa 1000) as a period of stagnation, lack of progress and “intellectual darkness”, a stark contrast to the idealized vision of Classical Antiquity they constructed from what evidence there was, “filling in the gaps” with imaginations as famously vivid as any of the Medieval scribes and artists responsible for some fabulous beasts.  The Seven Wonders of of the Ancient World” they found especially compelling, some of their speculative depictions of the Colossus of Rhodes and the Walls and Hanging Gardens of Babylon such examples of architectural gigantism even Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) might have been embarrassed.  Maybe they looked in awe at the scale of Great Pyramid of Giza and assumed all the ancients operated in “think big” mode.

Tony Abbott (b 1957; Prime Minister of Australia 2013-2015) agitprop.

Mr Abbott's combination of relentless negativity and repetition of 3WSs (three word slogans) contributed to his resounding victory in the 2013 general election although, in office, the results were mixed and it ended badly.  Recently revived as the Liberal Party's federal president (the institution's third “Lazerus with a triple bypass” after Sir Robert Menzies (1894–1978; Prime Minister of Australia 1939-1941 & 1949-1966) and John Howard (b 1939; Prime Minister of Australia 1996-2007)), Mr Abbott unquestionably was one of history's most effective leaders of the opposition but as Roy Jenkins (1920–2003) remarked of Lord Randolph Churchill (1849–1895):  “He was essentially a opposition politician and behaved as such even when in government”.  Of such matters, Jenkins was a fair judge.  Although medieval may literally mean “relating to the Middle Ages” and can be used as a neutral adjective (medieval architecture, medieval manuscripts etc), it is also used as a term of derision: “Mr Abbott’s views on certain topics seem distinctly medieval although, to be fair, the thirteenth century probably never produced a finer mind”.  Used in that way, it implies outdated, harsh or unenlightened, a throwback to the stereotypes of the Dark Ages but more recent scholarship has cast doubt on whether the “Dark Ages” was a time as culturally sterile and technologically stagnant and was for centuries an orthodoxy among historians.  A view now more popular is the earlier conceptions of the period were formed because of the relative scarcity of written records and although it’s now clear there was progress in agriculture, law, architecture, theology, literature, engineering and state formation, it is true that compared with what came before and what followed, progress often was fitful.  Of note also is there were in the Renaissance and beyond not a few who didn’t count “advances in theology” as progress worth mentioning.

Saturday, June 20, 2026

Bellwether

Bellwether (pronounced bel-weth-er)

(1) A wether or other male sheep that leads the flock, usually bearing a bell.

(2) A person or thing that assumes the leadership or forefront, as of a profession or industry.

(3) Anything that indicates future trends (gauge, indicator, sign).

(4) As “bellwether state”, “bellwether seat” etc, an electoral division or constituency which, over a long period, has tended to predict the outcome in wider electoral contests (presidential, congressional, provincial, national etc).

(5) In finance, as “bellwether stock”, a stock or bond widely believed to be an indicator of the overall market's condition and future direction.

1400-1450: The construct was bell + wether.  The late thirteenth century word clearly existed in Anglo-Latin but in the late twelfth century it had been used as a surname.  The prevalent meaning became “lead sheep” (with a collar on which a bell was hung) of a domesticated flock, while the figurative sense (leader, chief) dates from the mid-fourteenth century.  Used in its original sense (a sheep with a bell attached to a collar), bellwether has no synonyms but they do exist when the term figuratively is applied (a person or thing that shows the existence or direction of a trend; index), including trendsetter, trailblazer, front runner, pacesetter, leader, omen, gauge, indicator, sign & harbinger.  Thus in fashion, historically, the bellwether has tended variously to be what was first seen on the catwalks in Milan, Paris or London while in the years immediately after World War II (1939-1945), it was the artistic movements in New York rather than Paris that became the bellwether of global directions in the visual arts.  The alternative forms were bell-wether and (the now archaic) belwether; bellweather was a misspelling.  Bellwether is a noun; the noun plural is bellwethers.

A model in a “strapless fuchsia top and pants covered in shimmering, sculpted rose embellishments” from Rahul Mishra’s (b 1979) Haute Couture Fall/Winter 2025/2026 collection (Becoming Love), Paris Fashion Week, 2025.  Paris remains the industry’s bellwether but not everything seen on the catwalk is a harbinger.

Bell, in the sense of the percussive, hollow instrument (usually of cast or forged metal), typically cup-shaped with a flaring mouth, suspended from the vertex and rung by the strokes of a clapper, hammer, or the like (resonating upon impact producing “the sound of the bell”), was a pre-1000 word, from the Middle English belle, from the Old English belle & bellan (to roar), from the from Proto-West Germanic bellā, from the Proto-Germanic bellǭ, from the primitive Indo-European bel-; it was cognate with the West Frisian belle, the Old High German bellan, the Low German Belle & Bel, the German bellen (to bark), the Middle Dutch bellen & belen, the Old Norse belja, the Danish bjælde, the Faroese bjølla, the Icelandic bjalla, the Norwegian bjelle and the Swedish bjällra. and the Dutch bel.

Wether (originally “a castrated male sheep” but later used generally of “male sheep”) dates from pre 900 and was from the Middle English wether, wethir & wedyr, from the Old English weðer (ram), from the Middle English wether, wethir, wedyr, from Old English weþer (“a wether, ram”), from the Proto-West Germanic weþru, from the Proto-Germanic wethruz (source also of the Old Saxon wethar, the Old Norse veðr, the Old High German widar, the German Widder and the Gothic wiþrus (lamb)), literally “yearling’, from the primitive Indo-European root wet- (year), (source also of the Sanskrit vatsah (calf), the Greek etalon (yearling) and the Latin vitulus (calf, literally “yearling”); it was cognate with the Old Saxon withar, the Old High German widar, the Old Norse vethr and the Gothic withrus.  The ultimate source was the primitive Indo-European wet- (year).  The word wether came to be used both of male sheep (rams) and male goats (busks) castrated at a young age.  Usually, it’s safe practice for wethers to share paddocks or be housed with female sheep or goats, but intact rams & bucks usually are kept separately.  “Wether wool” was wool from previously shorn sheep.  The now obsolete dialectal form was wedder and in historic documents, as late as the nineteenth century wether was a (now archaic) spelling of weather.  Used as a verb, “to wether” was to castrate a male sheep or goat, the victim said to have been “wethered”.

In idiomatic use, a “bellwether state” “bellwether district” or “bellwether seat” is an electoral division or constituency which, over a long period, has tended to align with the outcome in wider electoral contests (presidential, congressional, provincial, national etc).  The classic example is the bellwether state in US presidential elections that historically votes for the winning candidate in successive elections (ie sometimes returning a Democratic and sometimes a Republican majority).  It’s an accepted part of the jargon of political science but really doesn’t adhere to the etymology of the original idea of sheep “following a leader”.  In elections, one state, district or constituency generally doesn’t “follow another” because votes tend simultaneously to be cast and although there are examples (in countries with multiple time-zones) of early results in one place become available while polling is still happening in others, (1) those results are always from a very small proportion of the vote (2) most votes in places still voting have already been cast and (3) the time overlap usually is brief.

A Lindsay Lohan-themed weathervane.

In the political context, rather than bellwether, a better term might be “weather vane”.  A weather vane is a type of anemoscope (the construct being anemo- (from the Ancient Greek ᾰ̓́νεμος (ắnemos) (wind)) + scope (from the Ancient Greek σκοπέω (skopéō) (examine, inspect, look to or into, consider)) which is an elegant description of a simple, mechanical device rotating around one axis and attached to an elevated object such as a roof.  As a weather vane responds to the wind, it rotates to show the wind direction, the letters “N”, “S”, “E” & “W” displayed on static, extended prongs indicating respectively north, south, east & west.  The term is sometimes clipped to “vane” and they’re known also as “wind vanes” and “weathercocks”, the latter use dating from so many historically being formed in the silhouette of a rooster.  The reason “weather vane” works better than “bellwether” as a word indicating “current political climate” is that there’s no suggestion the wind “follows” the vane; instead, the position of the vane simply reflects the direction in which “the wind is blowing”.  That’s why it can be used to mean (1) an indicator; something that reflects what the current situation is and (2) a person or organization that changes their attitude and position based on the prevailing conditions rather than displaying any conviction.

So while a homophone, “weather” enjoys a different meaning from “wether”.  Weather was from the Middle English weder & wedir, from the Old English weder, from the Proto-West Germanic wedr, from the Proto-Germanic wedrą, from the primitive Indo-European wedrom (to blow).  The distinction between “the weather” and “the climate” is the former is the state of the atmosphere at a specific time and place (expressed via measures such as temperature, relative humidity, cloud cover, precipitation, wind strength etc) while the latter is the weather aggregated over periods (which can be a season, year, decade, century, epoch etc) or regions.  Such is the significance of the weather that the term “the weather” can refer explicitly to its more severe aspects.  That’s how Guadalcanal's Weather Coast in the Solomon Islands gained its name; unlike the island's northern coast (site of the capital Honiara), the southern Weather Coast faces the prevailing southeast trade winds and open ocean swells.  As a result, it experiences heavier rainfall, rougher seas, flooding, and generally harsher weather; it’s literally the island’s “weather-beaten coast”.

Vane was from the Middle English vane, a Southern Middle English variant of fane, from the Old English fana (cloth, banner, flag), from the Proto-West Germanic fanō, from the Proto-Germanic fanô, from the primitive Indo-European pehn- (something woven; weave; tissue; fabric; cloth).  It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian Foone (flag, banner), the Dutch vaan (banner, flag), the German Low German Fahn (flag) and the German Fahne.  In engineering, vanes typically exist in multiples and are relatively thin, rigid, flat, or sometimes curved surfaces radially mounted along an axis; they can be slow-moving (as on a windmill) or run at very high speeds (as in turbines).  In ornithology, the vane is the flattened, web-like part of a feather, consisting of a series of barbs on either side of the shaft.

A captured German V2 rocket (1945, left) and a full-size clay mock up of a design proposal for 1961 Cadillac, General Motors Technical Center, Warren, Michigan, (1959, right).  When the V2 used as a weapon (1944-1945), the term used was "fins" but the rocket scientists of the 1950s popularized "vanes".  On the cars, it was always "fins" but the lower units (seen on Oldsmobiles in 1961 and Cadillacs in 1961-1962) informally were dubbed "skegs", a borrowing from nautical architecture.

A recent adoption of vane was to describe the guidance or stabilizing fins attached to the tail of bombs or missiles.  Fins had of course long been a feature of directional weapons (arrows the classic example) and they’d appeared on the earliest aerial bombs.  Had the convention been: “fins are static and vanes can move” that would have made sense to laypersons but that wasn’t the way the military-industrial complex used the labels which resulted in non-specialist writers sometimes using “fin” and “vane” interchangeably.  That was understandable because while in the terminology of aerodynamicists the words are not exactly synonymous, there’s enough overlap to encourage confusion.  As a general principle, the primary purpose of a fin is to act as a stabilizing surface enhancing stability, the tail fins on a bomb, artillery shell, rocket, or missile the classic examples; until relatively recently, almost always they were fixed.  By contrast, a vane is a thin blade-like aerodynamic surface that interacts with airflow; they may be static or movable and are used for stabilization, steering or control.  To engineers the distinction was significant and for others it made sense because the nerdier "vane" was for rocket scientists while fins were things Detroit was putting on Cadillacs.  That meant some vanes could move while others were fixed and were thus functionally equivalent to fins.  Except for historians of such things, any distinction probably isn’t important and the two are so entrenched in ordnance and aerospace nomenclature, they’re both here to stay; in modern use the only discernible definitional difference being some emphasis on the component’s shape rather than whether it moves.

Map of the US expressed as "Red", "Blue", "Bellwether" & "Swing" states.  The apparent red-blue dichotomy is a product of the voting system, the vote spread broadly similar to patterns in other two-party systems.

Electoral behaviour in the democracies of the English-speaking world is not as predictable as it was in the days of relatively stable two-party systems.  Even in the US where the Democratic and Republican party machines have ensured there’s something of an institutionalized duopoly, their internal fissiparousness of both (TEA (Taxed Enough Already) & MAGA (Make America Great Again) etc) has made the use of historic data less useful.  What does seem clear is among the “less useful” concepts in the US are the “bellwethers”, states or districts that historically were remarkably reliable in picking winners in national elections.  In presidential contests, some were striking in this: Nevada between 2012-2020 voted for the winner in every election (except 1976) and Missouri did the same between 1904- 2004 except in 1956.  Much maligned Ohio was once also a Bellwether; between choosing a loser in Barry Goldwater (1909–1998) in 1964 and crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947) in 2016, Ohioans otherwise got it right.

Map of the US expressed as "Purple" states.

Political scientists explain the change by pointing out the electorate, geographically, has become much more polarized, states now increasingly sorted by education level, urbanization, ethnicity, and partisan identity.  Once consequence of this was previously competitive states can drift permanently into one party's column, thus the growing number of “Red” (Republican) and “Blue” (Democrat) states and although psephologists have published district-by-district analyses showing all states really are “shades of purple”, because of the way the electoral system works in the US, the shades don’t matter because mostly the delegates in the Electoral College are determined on “winner takes all” basis.  Thus it’s correct to speak of “red” and “blue” states and the “winner takes all” approach does distort political perceptions; were a system of proportional representation (or even a preferential system) to be adopted, the electoral outcomes would be very different on the basis of the same patterns of voting.  What this shift in behaviour has meant is political scientists tend now to focus less on the historic bellwethers and more on the “tipping-point states” (the relative handful of "swing" states which have evolved to be the most competitive and thus likely to be decisive in provides the needed Electoral College votes).  In recent elections, the tipping point states have been Michigan, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin.

Because there are more of them, in Congressional elections, the notion of “bellwether districts” remains more useful but even there it has become diluted.  Historically, there were literally dozens of House districts that routinely elected a representative from whichever party won the national House vote and in a real (ie statistically verifiable) sense such districts really did reflected “the median American voter”, a concept now less identifiable.  What has happened is that the forces of geographic polarization, partisan realignment, residential self-sorting and the decline of split-ticket voting means the number of genuine bellwether districts dramatically has shrunk, a stark change from the trend first identified in the late 1990s of the number of “safe seats” decreasing.  Concurrent with that has been the movement in the number of House districts carried by one presidential candidate but represented by the other party in Congress.  In the 1970s and 1980s there were hundreds of such mismatches while today there are but a handful with many congressional districts effectively “safe” for one party or the other; now it’s only “reprehensible or extraordinary circumstances” (they can be local or national) likely to shift things.  While it’s true there are a small number of competitive districts (in Arizona, Georgia, Pennsylvania and Michigan) that have in recent elections been reliable bellwethers, there seems among political scientists little confidence these can be guaranteed to maintain the pattern.  The bellwethers “happened” because there was for at least decades a large “middle ground” of persuadable “swing voters” distributed throughout the country but modern American (and this predates Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) who does get blamed for much) politics increasingly is characterized by semi-stable partisan coalitions and fewer swing voters.  So, “bellwethers” are now quite likely to be temporary coincidences rather than a durable phenomenon so the predictive power of the concept is now much weaker.

1968 Holden HK Monaro GTS 327.

The In Australian federal elections, the seat most recently dubbed a “bellwether” was the NSW (New South Wales) division of Eden Monaro (established in 1900), its good burghers for four decades reliability voting for the party destined to take office.  Between 1972-2013, Eden-Monaro was won by the party winning the general election and in another quirk unusual over such a long period (and uniquely among Australia’s historic bellwethers), none of the sitting members retired, resigned or had the decency to drop dead; all were defeated on polling day.  The Monaro region lies in what was the traditional country of the Ngarigo people and “Monaro” was said to be was from the Aboriginal word maneroo, most often translated as meaning “treeless plain”, “high plain” or “high plateau” although the APH (Parliamentary Handbook of the Commonwealth of Australia) lists the alternative etymology as an “Aboriginal word meaning 'the navel' or 'a woman's breasts'.

Marlboro cigarette magazine advertisement, 1967.  There was a time when such imagery was thought "positive product association".

In the early years of colonial settlement, the word often was spelled “Manaro” but the pronunciation is believed always to have been me-nair-oh.  Despite that long history, when in 1968 GMH (General Motors Holdens, GM’s local operation) introduced the Monaro, the pronunciation used was mon-ah-ro and that was attributed to events far away.  The choice of name is attributed to one of GMH’s technical designers in 1967 driving through Cooma and seeing the sign “Monaro County Council”.  At the time, there had been no decision about a name for the new Holden coupé (the body style a first for the company) and what appealed to the designer was (1) the sign reminding him of the famous “Marlboro Country” cigarette advertisements (then much admired) and (2) the obvious similarity with “Camaro”, the “pony car” introduced that year by Chevrolet as a competitor for Ford’s wildly successful Mustang.  Apparently, when “Monaro” was suggested as a name, instead of a committee being formed in the usual corporate way, so things could be “discussed”, immediately the name was adopted.  Although the Camaro (pronounced kam-ah-ro) wasn’t then sold in the Australian market, it had been well-publicized so Holden taking advantage of the “linguistic association” was not surprising.

1967 Chevrolet Camaro RS-SS 396.

That was a decision more quickly made than the process at Chevrolet which produced Camaro which emerged from a committee after the alternatives had been considered and discarded.  These days, conjuring up novel words for products (as well as product differentiation it avoids any legal squabbles) is common but in the mid-1960s, GM must not have wanted to risk being accused of linguistic impurity so told the press there was an entry in a (very) old French-English dictionary defining camaro as “companion”. “comrade” or “friend”.  Mischievously, Ford retaliated with a more recent Spanish dictionary in which a camaro was listed as a “small shrimp-like creature”, provoking Chevrolet into responding that a camaro was “a small, vicious animal that eats Mustangs”.  In the same era, that carnivorous notion really was the basis of the name of the de Tomaso Mangusta (Mongoose, 1967-1971), chosen after Alejandro de Tomaso (1928-2003) and Carroll Shelby (1923–2012) had a falling out, explained by the mongoose being a beast famous for hunting and killing cobras.  Unfortunately, the legend about the origin of the Camaro’s name is thought a myth, Chevrolet just “making it up” at a time when the company was using model names starting with “C” (Corvair, Corvette, Chevelle, Caprice) and the story of a journalist unearthing yet another dictionary that disclosed the definition “loose bowels” wholly is a myth.

Wednesday, June 17, 2026

Tuft

Tuft (pronounced tuhft)

(1) A bunch or cluster of small, usually soft and flexible parts, as feathers or hairs, attached or fixed closely together at the base and loose at the upper ends.

(2) A cluster of short, fluffy threads, used to decorate cloth, as for a bedspread, robe, bath mat, or window curtain.

(3) A cluster of cut threads, used as a decorative finish attached to the tying or holding threads of mattresses, quilts, upholstery, etc.

(4) To furnish or decorate with a tuft or tufts; to arrange in a tuft or tufts.

(5) In the upholstery trade, to draw together (a cushion or the like) by passing a thread through at regular intervals, the depressions thus produced being usually ornamented with tufts or buttons.  Tufts are not merely decorative because they secure and strengthen mattresses, quilts, cushions etc; they act to hinder the movement of the stuffing.

(6) In botany, a small clump of trees or bushes.

(7) A gold tassel on the cap once worn by titled undergraduates at English universities, one of the more blatant class identifiers if the UK’s class system; the word tuft was also applied to those entitled to wear such as tassel and from this use evolved the slang "toff".

1350-1400: From the Middle English toft & tofte (bunch of soft and flexible things fixed at the base with the upper ends loose), an alteration of earlier tuffe (which endures in the Modern English tuff), from the Old French touffe, tuffe, toffe & tofe (tuft of hair (and source of the modern French touffe)), from the Late Latin tufa (a crest on a helmet (also found in Late Greek toupha) and probably of Germanic origin (the Old High German was zopf and the Old Norse was toppr (tuft, summit).  The earlier European forms were the Old English þūf (tuft), the Old Norse þúfa (mound), the Swedish tuva (tussock; grassy hillock), from the Proto-Germanic þūbǭ (tube) & þūbaz.  It was akin to the Latin tūber (hump, swelling) and the Ancient Greek τ́φη (tū́phē) (cattail (used to stuff beds)).  The excrescent t (as in against) was an English addition and tuft was used as a verb from the 1530s.  In some contexts, bunch, cluster, collection, cowlick, group, knot, plumage, ruff, shock, topknot & tussock can impart a similar meaning but tuft is better for its specific purpose.  Tuft & tufting are nouns & verbs, tufted is a verb & adjective, tufter is a noun, tuftier & tuftiest are adjectives, tufty is a noun & adjective and tuftily is an adverb; the noun plural is tufts.

Little Miss Muffet in Hell (left) and with MWC's (Motor Wheel Corporation) Spyder wheel (right).  Because the use by European manufacturers lent the spelling "spyder with a y" a tinge of the exotic, it was used in US commerce, MWC of Lansing Michigan dubbing one of their "jellybean style" wheels thus.  The wheel, produced in the early 1970s, used the then popular technique of combining a styled aluminun center with a chromed steel rim.  MWC's wheels were highly regarded for quality and the Spyder was produced for use with disc or drum brakes.  Note the latter day Little Miss Muffet's strategic positioning of the tip of the tongue. 

The 1550s noun tuffet (little tuft) was from the Old French touffel (the diminutive suffix -et replacing the French -el) which was a diminutive of touffe.  In English the word is obsolete except for the use in the nursery rhyme Little Miss Muffet which seems first to have appeared in print in 1805 although it (and variations) may have been circulating much earlier.  Etymologists believe Little Miss Muffet’s tuffet was a grassy hillock or a small knoll in the ground (a variant spelling of an obsolete meaning of tuft).  The latter-day use to refer to a hassock or footstool is an example of how (usually obscure) words can acquire meanings if erroneous definitions are often repeated and come to serve some purpose.  Tuffet for example became a favorite of antique dealers who are apt to call both footstools and low seats “tuffets”, a handy practice perhaps when provenance is doubtful.

Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
There came a big spider,
Who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.


Those whose fear of spiders (and other arachnids, such as scorpions and ticks) is so severe as to adversely affect normal life are said to be arachnophobic.  Although one of the most commonly described anxiety disorders, in the current edition (DSM-5-TR) of the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), arachnophobia is not a diagnostic category but is classified as a sub-type of Specific Phobia, Animal Type, a clinical diagnosis typically described as “Specific Phobia, Animal Type (spiders)”.  The DSM’s criteria for a specific phobia include (1) marked fear or anxiety about a specific object or situation, (2) immediate fear response on exposure, (3) active avoidance or intense distress, (4) fear disproportionate to the actual danger, (5) persistence (typically 6+ months) and (6) and clinically significant impairment or distress.  So, one who merely is not fond of spiders would not meet the DSM’s criteria; the fear must be severe enough to impair functioning or cause substantial distress over at least six months.  The irony is that as well as most spiders being small, non-venomous and not at all anxious to attack humans, co-existing with them and their webs in most cases will improve quality of life by culling the insect population.  For those not convinced, arachnophobia can be treated by a number of therapies including (1) systematic desensitization (a gradual exposure to the source of the distress), (2) the adoption of “calming techniques” which can lower the distress response and (3) CBT (cognitive behaviour therapy), a structured, goal-oriented form of psychotherapy focusing on identifying and changing negative or dysfunctional thought patterns and behaviours.  The estimates vary but all research indicates well under 10% of the global population suffer arachnophobia to the extent a clinician would diagnose with women being significantly more affected.


Tufted furnishings aficionado Lindsay Lohan on tufted leather sofa (left) and in bed with tufted bedhead (right).

Critics of interior design tend not to approve of padded or tufted headboards and the shinier or more pillowy the effect, the greater will be the disparagement.  Such critics probably tend to prefer a minimalist aesthetic and condemn anything which doesn’t conform as outdated, excessive or just in poor taste but that aside, there are practical reasons to avoid the padding because the material can over time collect dust, dirt, and oils, something of concern to allergy sufferers.  The designs can also provide hiding places for the dreaded bed bugs.  Still, there are some who like the “generic luxury hotel room” look and argue they’re a kind of safety feature, banging one’s head on some tufted padding a less troubling event than an impact with one of Ikea’s hard, flat surfaces.  Like any bed, there are advantages and drawbacks, some thing made more comfortable, some close to impossible.

Nobleman in full dress at Cambridge (1815) with golden tuft.

The noun toff began as mid nineteenth century lower-class London slang for "a stylish dresser, a man of the smart set".  It was an alteration of tuft, which was a mid-eighteenth century English university (Oxford & Cambridge) term for students who were members of the aristocracy, a reference to the gold ornamental tassel (or tufts) worn on the academic caps (mortarboards) of undergraduates.  Throughout the “long eighteenth century” (a historian’s term which refers for the epoch running from the Glorious Revolution of 1688 to the Congress of Vienna in 1815 (the “long nineteenth” being 1815-1914 and the “long twentieth” 1914-2001 (ie 9/11))), undergraduates at both Oxford and Cambridge were differentiated into four classes: (1) noblemen, (2) gentlemen, (3) commoner-scholars (fellow-commoners at Cambridge) & (4) servitors (sometimes known at Cambridge as sizars and at Oxford as battelers).  Each of these classes of undergraduates was entitled to a different form of dress, noblemen since 1490 (further clarified in 1576) entitled to wear silk and brocaded gowns of bright colors. Such rich materials emphasized noble status, as did the costly dyes. The gowns had flap collars, Tudor bag sleeves with gold lace decorations (akin to the black lace decorations used today on Oxford gimp gowns) and a velvet round cap with a gold tassel (or tuft) was worn.  Noblemen were technically (if misleadingly) nobiles minorum gentium and included the sons of bishops, knights and baronets and, by resolution of Convocation, could include heirs of esquires.

The right to wear the golden tuft was briefly restricted to those with fathers entitled to sit in the House of Lords while those less blue-blooded were allowed only to a plain black tassel but things gradually became less exclusive until the practice was abandoned in the late nineteenth century but the transfer of sense was inevitable: wearers of golden tufts came to be known as tufts.  Those toadies or sycophants (and there were many) who were slavish followers of the tufts were tufthunters and their antics, tufthunting, such individuals and their habits quite identifiable to this day.  By the 1850s, under the influence of the cockney accent, the word had been transformed into toff (some dictionaries of slang noting toft co-existed in the 1850s but this may have been a mishearing) which endures to refer to anyone rich and powerful although the original sense was of someone apparently well-bred.

1912 Stutz Bear Cat (1912-1934); after 1913 they would be dubbed Bearcat (left) and 1915 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost (Chassis 2BD, 40/50; 1906-1926) limousine by H.A. Hamshaw (right).

One of the fastest and most admired American cars of the early era, the Stutz Bearcat assumed such a place in popular culture, it was was claimed that should anyone die (except by suicide) at the wheel of a Stutz Bearcat, they were granted an obituary in the New York Times (NYT).  Wholly apocryphal, the origin of the romantic myth is thought to be related to the Bearcat being a symbol of wealth, adventure, and daring, owned by the sort of chaps (such a lifestyle at the time was most associated with men although women adventurers were not unknown) who would likely anyway warrant an NYT obituary.  The Bear Cat's tufted leather upholstery was typical (though not universal) of the high priced automobiles of the time although already, elaborate fabrics were appearing in vehicles with enclosed passenger compartments which afforded protection from the elements.  The appointments of 1915 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost were opulent even by the coachbuilding standards of the day (the Edwardian traditions still maintained) but the chauffeur's compartment lacked a roof (the body style really a Sedanca de Ville as were many of the early English "limousines") so was still trimmed in tufted leather.  The more sheltered passengers enjoyed carved ivory door handles, beveled glass windows, cut crystal lamps, an inlaid wood folding table, two jump seats, and door pockets, communications to the chauffeur via a tubular intercom.  The lavish upholstery in the rear was tufted, beige West-of-England cloth with embroidered silk window pulls and trim-work, including rear compartment shades and sliding divider although what usually attracts most comment is the elegant, pleated, cloth rosette headliner with its cloudlike billows.   To make journeys more pleasant, a set of leather-wrapped flasks was mounted in the right rear armrest.

1908 Hotchkiss 16-20 hp Type T Roi des Belges (King of the Belgians) Touring Car with tufted red leather (right) and 1917 Packard Twin Six Touring Car with channel tufted black leather (left).  The term “touring car” was never exactly defined and use varied between UK & US manufacturers but typically it described a large, four-door, 4-6 seat open car, supplied with a folding top and (usually optional) temporary side curtains.  The style went extinct but did fork into the phaeton (no top or side-windows) and the four-door cabriolet (or convertible) (a folding top and retractable side windows).  However, even by the 1930s, the old coachwork terms from the days of horse-drawn vehicles had come to be used with such imprecision the descriptions were sometimes little more than vaguely indicative and in the post-war years they meant whatever manufacturers at the time wanted them to mean.

In the matter of upholstery, the word “tufted” has long been synonymous with “deep buttoned” but in the early days of the automobile. Coach-builders and upholsters would offer the option of “channel tufted” trim which essentially was “tufting without the buttons” although it seems almost always to have been executed only with parallel seams (ie nothing on the diagonal).  Probably because what would now be understood as a “pleated” style was more comfortable for sitting on in a moving object, it became popular in the 1920s.  Of course, what the machinists called the “straight tuck-roll” technique was less labour intensive and used smaller quantities of materials so interiors could be trimmed at lower cost so the incentive was there to make the switch.  The revival of button-tufting in the late twentieth century was not an exercise in mere nostalgia but an expression of conspicuous consumption, the “obviously expensive” look making tufting in the big US cars something of a Veblen good.   

1972 Oldsmobile Ninety Eight Regency advertising.

Tufted leather upholstery was common in early automobiles, the seating often exactly the same as those used in horse-drawn carriages, houses or commercial buildings (and certainly gentlemen's clubs).  The practice faded as production volumes increased and as early as the late 1920s was coming to be restricted to only the most expensive models.  This exclusivity tended to prevail until 1972 when Oldsmobile introduced the Regency option for its full-sized Ninety-Eight (sometimes as "98") models, a package, the visual highlight of which was tufted "loose-pillow" velour upholstery (although unlike the use in furniture where the "pillows" were detachable for cleaning, in the Ninety-Eight they were fixed permanently to the seats.  Suddenly, solidly middle-class Oldsmobile (right in the middle of General Motors’ (GM) five-step (Chevrolet-Pontiac-Oldsmobile-Buick-Cadillac) hierarchy; the so-called "Slone ladder" designed to both facilitate and encourage "upward automotive mobility" conceived by Alfred P Sloan (1875–1966;  president of General Motors (GM) 1923-1937 and Chairman of the Board 1937-1946)) had brought both velour and loose-pillow seating to the masses.  The velour was at the time admired by most buyers (though derided by some critics of design) and as tufted upholstery began to proliferate in the industry it was usually offered as a cheaper alternative to leather.  In some climates the velour was probably the better choice and was welcomingly comfortable although in some of the more strident shades of red could recall the popular idea of how a bordello might be furnished.  Presumably, those who'd never enjoyed a visit to a bordello were more disconcerted than regular customers.

1974 Imperial LeBaron four-door hardtop (left) in chestnut tufted leather though not actually “rich Corinthian leather” which was (mostly) exclusive to the Cordoba (1975-1983) until late 1975 when not only did the Imperial's brochures mention "genuine Corinthian leather (available at extra cost)" but for the first time since 1954 the range was referred to as the "Chrysler Imperial", a harbinger the brand was about to be retired.  Imperial's advertising copy noted of the brochure photograph above: “...while the passenger restraint system with starter interlock is not shown, it is standard on all Imperials.”; the marketing types didn't like seat-belts messing up their photos, reminding people cars sometimes crash.  While all of the big three (GM, Ford & Chrysler) had tufted interiors in some lines, it was Chrysler which displayed the most commitment to the motif.

1977 Chrysler (Australia) Valiant Regal SE.

In the era, Chrysler's Australian outpost did cut a few corners when implementing the “pillowed look”, economies achieved by (1) using fewer buttons for the tufting of the fabric or optional leather and (2) attaching the tufted “feature sections” directly to the cushion squab rather than creating an emulated “pillowed” look which appeared to sit atop the structure.  Even by the time of the release of the CL range (1976-1978) the feeling was the writing was on the wall for the once popular Australian Valiant (1962-1981) and the top-of-the-line Regal SE was created in the time-honored Q&D (quick & dirty) way by including all the less Regal’s options as standard equipment; only the tufted upholstery and optional leather was unique to the model.  Sales were modest but there remained devoted following for the Valiant which was durable enough to endure the sometimes harsh environment and it was highly regarded for its towing capabilities, equipped either with the lusty locally-developed 265 cubic inch (4.3 litre) straight-6 or the imported 318 cubic inch (5.2 litre) V8.  Built on the US A-body platform, when production ended in 1981 it had lasted a half-decade longer than the Plymouth and Dodge versions sold in the home market and only in Mexico would use continue until 1988.

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman.

Oldsmobile's move was as audacious and influential as Ford’s introduction in 1965 of the up-market LTD which, like the Regency package, had the effect of cannibalizing sales from other divisions within the same corporation.  Cadillac, although with a range priced considerably above Oldsmobile, offered nothing with such an ostentatious interior though when it did in 1974 respond with its Talisman package (1974-1976), it made sure it did so with more tufted extravagance still, in 1974 offering leather as well as velour.  The trend the Regency package started would last over twenty years and is remembered especially for the tufted fittings used in Imperials, Chryslers and Dodges, the hides used in the Cordoba range (1975-1983) said to be "rich Corinthian leather", an advertising agency creation which meant nothing in particular but sounded vaguely European and therefore expensive.

1985 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz (left), 1977 Chrysler New Yorker Brougham (centre) and 1989 Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham d' Elegance (right).

Color choice made a big difference to the perception of the "tufted look", more subdued hues like green and blue less confronting than the "bordello red" which became emblematic of the industry's phase.  Cadillac called the fabric in the Fleetwood Talisman "Medici crushed velour" which had about the same relationship to historic truth as "fine Corinthian leather" but the package sold well over the three seasons it was offered, despite the option costing almost as much (and the leather significantly more) as some new cars.  Among collectors, the holy grail is a 1974 Fleetwood Talisman trimmed in blue leather; although it was on the option list, none has ever been sighted and the factory's records don't breakdown production between the blue and the alternative "medium saddle" (a medium tan), some of which have been verified.