Cosmopolitan

Cosmopolitan (pronounced koz-muh-pol-i-tn)

(1) One free from local, provincial, or national ideas, prejudices, or attachments; an internationalist.

(2) One with the characteristics of a cosmopolite.

(3) A cocktail made with vodka, cranberry juice, an orange-flavored liqueur, and lime juice.

(4) Sophisticated, urbane, worldly.

(5) Of plants and animals, wildly distributed species.

(6) The vanessa cardui butterfly.

(7) A moth of species Leucania loreyi.

1828:  An adoption in Modern English, borrowed from the French cosmopolite (citizen of the world), ultimately derived from the Ancient Greek kosmopolitēs (κοσμοπολίτης), the construct being kósmos (κόσμος) (world) + politēs (πολίτης) (citizen); word being modeled on metropolitan.  The US magazine Cosmopolitan was first published in 1886.  Derived forms (hyphenated and not) have been constructed as needed including noncosmopolitan, subcosmopolitan, ultracosmopolitan, fauxcosmopolitan, anticosmopolitan & protocosmopolitan.  Because cosmopolitanness is a spectrum condition, the comparative is “more cosmopolitan” and the superlative “most cosmopolitan”.  Cosmopolitan is a noun & adjective, cosmopolitanism & cosmopolitanness are nouns, cosmopolitanize is a verb, cosmopolitanist is an adjective (and plausibly a noun) and cosmopolitanly is an adverb; the noun plural is cosmopolitans.

An aspect of Soviet Cold War policy under comrade Stalin

The phrase rootless cosmopolitans was coined in the nineteenth century by Vissarion Belinsky (1811-1848), a Russian literary critic much concerned about Western influences on both Russian literature and society.  He applied it to writers he felt “…lacked Russian national character” but as a pejorative euphemism, it’s now an anti-Semitic slur and one most associated with domestic policy in the Soviet Union (USSR) between 1946 and Stalin's death in 1953.  Comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) liked the phrase and applied it to the Jews, a race of which he was always suspicious because he thought their lack of a homeland made them “mystical, intangible and other-worldly”.  Not a biological racist like Hitler and other rabid anti-Semites, Stalin’s enemies were those he perceived a threat; Leon Trotsky (1879-1940), Grigory Zinoviev (1883–1936) and Lev Kamenev (1883–1936) were disposed of not because they were Jewish but because Stalin thought they might threaten his hold on power although the point has been made that while it wasn’t because he was Jewish that Trotsky was murdered, many Jews would come to suffer because Stalin associated them with Trotsky.

Comrade Stalin signing death warrants.

It was the same with institutions.  He found disturbing the activities of Moscow’s Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee (JAC) and did not approve them being accepted by Western governments as representing the USSR.  Further, he feared the JAC’s connections with foreign powers might create a conduit for infiltration by Western influences; well Stalin knew the consequences of people being given ideas; the campaign of 1946-1953 was thus more analogous with the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) opposition to the Falun Gong rather than the pogroms of Tsarist times.  Authoritarian administrations don’t like independent organisations; politics needs to be monolithic and control absolute.  In a speech in Moscow in 1946, he described certain Jewish writers and intellectuals, as “rootless cosmopolitans” accusing them of a lack of patriotism, questioning their allegiance to the USSR.  This theme festered but it was the creation of the state of Israel in 1948, fostering as it did an increased self consciousness among Soviet Jews, combined with the Cold War which turned Stalin into a murderous anti-Semite.

Rootless cosmopolitan Comrade Trotsky, murdered with an ice axe on comrade Stalin's orders.

Before the formation of the state of Israel, Stalin's anti-Semitism was more a Russian mannerism than any sort of obsession.  For years after assuming absolute power in the USSR, he expressed no disquiet at the preponderance of Jews in the foreign ministry and it was only in 1939, needing a temporary diplomatic accommodation with Nazi Germany, that he acted.  Having replaced the Jewish Foreign Commissar, Maxim Litvinov (1876–1951; People's Commissar for Foreign Affairs of the Soviet Union 1930–1939) with Vyacheslav Molotov (1890-1986; USSR Minister of Foreign Affairs 1939-1949 & 1953-1956), he ordered him to purge the diplomatic corps of Jews, his memorable phrase being "clean out the synagogue".  Concerned the presence of Jews might be an obstacle to rapprochement with Hitler, Stalin had the purge effected with his usual efficiency: many were transferred to less conspicuous roles and others were arrested or shot.

Meeting of minds: Joachim von Ribbentrop (left), comrade Stalin (centre) and comrade Molotov (right), the Kremlin, 23 August 1939.

Negotiations began in the summer of 1939, concluding with German Foreign Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945) leading a delegation to Moscow to meet with Molotov and Stalin.  It proved a remarkably friendly conference of political gangsters and agreement was soon reached, the German-Soviet Nonaggression Pact (usually called the Nazi-Soviet Pact or Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact) being signed on 23 August.  The pact contained also a notorious secret protocol by which the two dictators agreed to a carve-up of Poland consequent upon the impending Nazi invasion and the line dividing Poland between the two was almost identical to the Curzon Line, a demarcation between the new Polish Republic created in the aftermath of World War I (1914-1918) and the emergent Soviet Union which had been proposed by Lord Curzon (1859–1925; UK foreign secretary 1919-1924).  At the Yalta Conference in 1945, during the difficult negotiations over Polish borders, Molotov habitually referred to "the Curzon Line" and the UK Foreign Secretary, Anthony Eden (1897–1977; thrice UK foreign secretary & prime minister 1955-1957), in a not untypically bitchy barb, observed it was more common practice to call it the “Molotov-Ribbentrop line”.  "Call it whatever you like" replied Stalin, "we still think it's fair and just".  Comrade Stalin rarely cared much to conceal the nature of the regime he crafted in his own image.  When asked by Franklin Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, US president 1933-1945) if Molotov had been to New York during his visit to the US, Stalin replied: "No, he went to Chicago to be with the other gangsters".

Whatever the motives of Stalin, rootless cosmopolitans has joined the code of dog-whistle politics, a part of the core demonology to label the Jews a malign race, a phrase in the tradition of "Christ killers", "Rothschild-Capitalists and Untermenschen (the sub-humans).  Despite that, there are always optimists, Jewish writer Vincent Brook (b 1946), suggesting the term could convey the positive, a suggestion the Jews possess an “adaptability and empathy for others”.  It’s not a view widely shared and rootless cosmopolitan remains an anti-Semitic trope although it's not unknown for Jews to use it ironically.

The Cosmopolitan cocktail

A brace of Cosmos.

The Cosmopolitan was based on the "Cosmopolitan 1934" cocktail, a mix from inter-war New York which included gin, Cointreau & and lemon juice, raspberry syrup lending the trademark pink hue.  The modern Cosmopolitan was also concocted in New York and seems to have appeared first in the Mid-1980s although it was appearances in the HBO (Home Box Office) television series Sex and the City (1998-2004) which made it as emblematic of a certain turn-of-the-millennium New York lifestyle as Manolo Blahnik’s stilettos but, the implications of that connotation aside, the enticing pink drink survived to remain a staple of cocktail lists.  Cosmopolitans can be made individually or as a batch to be poured from a pitcher; just multiply the ingredient count by however many are to be served.

Ingredients

2 oz (¼ cup) vodka (or citrus vodka according to taste)

½ ounce (1 tablespoon) triple sec, Cointreau (or Grand Marnier)

¾ oz (1½ tablespoons) cranberry juice

¼-½ ounce (1 ½-3 teaspoons) fresh lime juice

One 2-inch (50 mm) orange peel/twist

Instructions

(1) Add vodka, Cointreau, cranberry juice, and lime juice to a cocktail shaker filled with ice.

(2) Shake until well chilled.

(3) Strain into a chilled cocktail glass (classically a coupé or Martini glass).

(4) An orange or lemon twist is the traditional garnish.

Notes

(1) As a general principle, the higher the quality of the vodka, the better the Cosmopolitan, the lower priced sprits tending to taste rather more abrasive which for certain purposes can be good but doesn’t suit a “Cosmo”.

(2) The choice of unsweetened or sweetened cranberry juice (the latter sold sometimes as “cranberry juice cocktail”) is a matter of taste and if using the unsweetened most will prefer if a small splash of sugar syrup (or agave) is added because tartness isn’t associated with a Cosmopolitan.

(3) There is however a variant which is sometimes mixed deliberately to be tart.  That’s the “White Cosmo”, made by using white cranberry juice.

(4) Of the orange liqueur: Most mixologists recommend Cointreau but preference is wholly subjective and Cointreau & Grand Marnier variously are used, the consensus being Cointreau (a type of Triple Sec) is smoother, stronger and more complex.  Grand Marnier is also a type of Triple Sec, one combined with Cognac so the taste is richer, nutty and caramelized which some prefer.

(5) Of the lime juice: It really is worth the effort to cut and squeeze a fresh lime.  Packaged lime juice will work but something of the bite of the citrus always is lost in the processing, packaging, storage and transporting the stuff endures.

(6) Art of the orange peel: The use of the term “garnish” of suggests something which is merely decorative: visual bling and ultimately superfluous but because cocktails are designed to be sipped, as one lingers over ones’s Cosmopolitan, from the peel will come a faint orange aroma, adding to the experience as the fumes of a cognac enhance things; spirits and cocktails are “breathed in” as well as swallowed.

(7) Science of the orange peel: When peeling orange, do it over glass so the oil spurting (viewed close-up under high-magnification, it really is more spurt than spray) from the pores in the skin ends up in the drink.  For the ultimate effect, rub the rim of the glass with the peel, down a half-inch on the outside so lips can enjoy the sensation.

The presidential “parade convertible” 1950 Lincoln Cosmopolitan, parked outside 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington DC.

In the US, the Ford Motor Company (FoMoCo) produced the Lincoln Cosmopolitan between 1949-1954 but only in its first season was it the “top-of-the-range” model, “designation demotion” something which would over the decades become popular in Detroit.  Political legend has it Harry Truman (1884–1972; US president 1945-1953) personally selected Lincoln to supply the presidential car fleet as an act of revenge against General Motors (GM), the corporation having declined to provide him with cars to use during the 1948 election campaign.  It’s assumed GM’s management was reading the polls and assumed they’d need only to wait to wait for a call from president elect Thomas Dewey (1902–1971) but as things turned out, Mr Dewey never progressed beyond president-presumptive so GM didn’t get the commission, the keys to Cadillacs not returning to the Oval Office until the administration of Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989).  While it wouldn’t much have consoled the GM board, there was some of their technology in the Lincolns because, FoMoCo was compelled to buy heavy-duty Hydra-Matic transmissions from Cadillac, their own automatic gearbox not then ready for production.

The presidential “parade convertible” 1950 Lincoln Cosmopolitan with “Bubbletop” fitted.

The White House leased ten Lincoln Cosmopolitans which were modified by coach-builders who added features such as longer wheelbases and raised roof-lines.  Nine were full-enclosed limousines while one was an armoured “parade convertible” (a “cabriolet D” in the Mercedes-Benz naming system) which was an impressive 20-odd feet (6 metres) in length.  The car used a large-displacement version of the old Ford flathead V8 (introduced in 1932) and weighing a hefty 6,500 lb (2,900 kg), performance wasn’t sparkling but given its role was slowly to percolate along crowd-lined boulevards, it was “adequate.  In 1954, during the administration of Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; US president 1953-1961), the parade convertible was fitted with a Plexiglas roof (a material the president would have been familiar with because it was used on some World War II (1939-1945) aircraft and in this form the Lincoln came to share the aircrafts’ nickname: “Bubbletop”.  The “Bubbletop” Cosmopolitan remained in service in the White House fleet until 1967.

The Glossies

Lindsay Lohan, Cosmopolitan, various international editions: April, May & June, 2006.

Cosmopolitan Magazine was launched in 1886 as a family journal of fashion, household décor, cooking, and other domestic interests.  It survived in a crowded market but its publisher did not and within two years Cosmopolitan was taken over by another which added book reviews and serialized fiction to the content.  This attracted the specialist house founded by John Brisben Walker (1847-1931), which assumed control in 1889, expanding its circulation twenty-fold to become one of America’s most popular literary magazines.  The Hurst Corporation acquired the title in 1905, briefly adding yellow-journalism before settling on a format focused on short fiction, celebrities and public affairs.  The formula proved an enduring success, circulation reaching two million by 1940 and this was maintained until a decline began in the mid 1950s, general-interest magazines being squeezed out by specialist titles and the time-consuming steamroller of television.

It was the appointment in 1965 of Helen Gurley Brown (1922–2012) as editor which signalled Cosmopolitan’s shift to a magazine focused exclusively on an emerging and growing demographic with high disposable income: the young white women of the baby boom.  In what proved a perfect conjunction, a target market with (1) economic independence, (2) social freedom, (3) an embryonic feminist awareness and (4) the birth control pill, the magazine thrived, surviving even the rush of imitators its success spawned.  Gurley Brown had in 1962 published the best seller advice manual, Sex and the Single Girl and Cosmopolitan essentially, for decades, reproduced variations on the theme in a monthly, glossy package.  It was clearly a gap in the market.  The approach was a success but there was criticism.  Conservatives disliked the choices in photography and the ideas young women were receiving.  Feminists were divided, some approved but others thought the themes regressive, a retreat from the overtly political agenda of the early movement into something too focused on fun and fashion, reducing women yet again to objects seeking male approbation.

Taylor Swift (b 1989), in purple on the cover of Cosmopolitan, December, 2014.

Still published in many international editions, Cosmopolitan Australia was one casualty of market forces, closed after a final printing in December 2018.  However, surprising many, Katarina Kroslakova (b 1978) in April 2024 announced her publishing house KK Press, in collaboration with New York-based Hearst Magazines International, would resume production of Cosmopolitan Australia as a bi-monthly and the first edition of the re-launched version was released in August, 2024.  Other than appearing in six issues per year rather than the traditional twelve, the format remained much the same, echoing Elle Australia which re-appeared on newsstands in March, ending a four-year hiatus.  Both revivals would as recently as 2023 have surprised industry analysts because the conventional, post-Covid wisdom was there existed in this segment few niches for time consuming and expensive titles in glossy print.

Amelia Dimoldenberg (b 1994) in polka-dots, on the cover of Cosmopolitan Australia April | May, 2025 (Issue 5, digital edition) which is downloadable file (96 MB in Adobe's PDF (portable document format) format.  Where digital titles have a history in print, the convention is to use the traditional cover format.  Even in the digital age, some legacy items have a genuine value to be exploited.

Ms Kroslakova clearly saw a viable business model and was quoted as saying print magazines are “the new social media” which was an interesting way of putting it but she explained the appeal by adding: “We need that 15 minutes to drop everything and actually have something tangible and beautiful in our hands to consume.  If we can present content which is multi-layered and deep and has authenticity and connection with the reader – that’s a really excellent starting point.”  She may have a point because in an age where screen-based content is intrinsically impermanent, the tactile pleasure of the traditional glossy may have genuine appeal, at least for an older readership who can remember the way things used to be done, something perhaps hinted at by her “15 minutes” reference, now regarded by many media analysts as a long-term connection given the apparent shortening of attention spans and after all, bound glossy pages are just another technology.  The revival of the print editions of Elle and Cosmopolitan will be an interesting experiment in a difficult economic environment which may get worse before it gets better.  Whether the novelty will attract enough of the "affluent readers" (what used to be called the A1, A2 & B1 demographic) to convince advertisers that it's a place to run their copy will likely decide the viability of the venture and while it's not impossible that will happen, Cosmopolitan is a couple of rungs down the ladder from the "prestige" titles (Vogue the classic mainstream example) which have maintained an advertising base. Cosmopolitan Australia offers a variety of subscription offers, the lowest unit cost available with a two-year, print + digital bundle (12 issues for Aus$105).

Lindsay Lohan on the cover of Cleo: March 2005 (left) and May 2009 (right).

Published in Australia between 1972-2016, Cleo was a monthly magazine targeted broadly at the demographic buying Cosmopolitan.  It was for decades successful and although there was some overlap in readership (and certainly advertising content), there was a perception there existed as distinct species “Cleo women” and “Cosmo women”.  Flicking through the glossy pages, husbands and boyfriends might have struggled to see much thematic variation although it’s likely they looked only at the pictures.  In the same vein, other than the paint, actual Cleo & Cosmo readers mostly probably wouldn’t have noticed much difference between Ford & Chevrolet V8s so it’s really a matter of where one’s interests lie (just because something is sexist stereotyping doesn’t mean it’s not true).  Had the men bothered to read the editorial content, they wouldn’t have needed training in textual deconstruction to detect both titles made much use of “cosmospeak”, a sub-dialect of English coined to describe the jargon, copy style and buzzwords characteristic of post 1950s Cosmopolitan magazine which contributed much to the language of non-academic “lipstick feminism”.  To summarize the market differentiation in women’s magazines, the industry joke was: “Cosmopolitan teaches you how to have an organism”, Cleo teaches you how to fake an organism and the Women’s Weekly teaches you how to knit an organism”.  As a footnote, when in 1983 the Women’s Weekly changed from a weekly to monthly format, quickly rejected was the idea the title might be changed to “Women’s Monthly”.

Martyrdom of the Saints Cosmas and Damian, oil on canvas by Fra Angelico (Guido di Pietro, circa 1395-1455), Musée du Louvre, Paris, France).  Fra was from the Italian frate (monk) and was a title for a Roman Catholic monk or friar (equivalent to Brother).

“Cleo” was a spunky two syllables but “Cosmopolitan” had a time-consuming five so almost universally it was used as “Cosmo”.  In Italy, Cosmo is a male given name and a variant of Cosimo, from the third century saint Cosmas who, with his brother Damian, was martyred in Syria during one of the many crackdowns on Christianity.  The name was from the Ancient Greek κόσμος (kósmos) (order, ordered universe), source of the now familiar “cosmos”.  Cosmas and Damian were Arab physicians who converted to Christianity and while ostensibly they suffered martyrdom for their faith, there may have been a financial motive because the brothers practiced much “free medicine”, not charging the poor for their “cures” so their services were understandably popular and thus a threat to the business model of the politically well-connected medical establishment.  The tension between medicine as some sort of social right and an industry run by corporations for profit has occasionally been suppressed but it’s never gone away, illustrated by the battles fought when the (literally) socialist post-war Labour government (1945-1951) established the UK’s NHS (National Health Service) and the (allegedly) socialist “Obamacare” (Affordable Care Act (ACA, 2010)) became law in the US.  By the twenty-first century, the medical establishment could no longer arrange decapitations of cut-price competitors threatening the profit margins but the conflicts remain, witness the freelancing of Luigi Mangione (1998).

The Mazda Cosmo

1968 Mazda Cosmo 110S (110S the export designation).

Although the Mazda corporation dates from 1920, it was another 40 years before it produced its first cars (one of the tiny 360 cm³ “kei cars” (a shortened form of kei-jidōsha, (軽自動車) (light vehicle)) so the appearance at the Tokyo Motor Show of the Cosmo Sport created quite an impression and that it was powered by a two-rotor Wankel rotary engine produced under licence from the German owners added to international interest.  Over two series, series production lasted from 1967 until 1972 but the intricate design was labour intensive to build and being expensive, demand was limited so in five years fewer than 1,200 were sold.  That makes it more of a rarity than a Mercedes-Benz 300 SL Gullwing (1,400 of those built 1954-1957) and while Cosmo prices haven’t reached the level of the German car, it is a collectable and a number are now in museums and collections.  Mazda continued to use the Cosmo name until 1996 and while none of the subsequent models were as intriguing as the original, some versions of the JC Series Eunos Cosmo (1990–1996) enjoy the distinction of being the world’s only production car fitted with a three-rotor Wankel engine (the 1969 Mercedes-Benz C111 was a Wankel test-bed). 

1975 Mazda Roadpacer (HJ model)

The Eunos Cosmo is not the only Mazda with a unique place in the troubled history of the Wankel engine, the Roadpacer (1975-1977) the only car built by General Motors (GM) ever sold with a Wankel engine.  Most Holden fans, as one-eyed as any, don’t have fond memories of the HJ (1974-1976) Premier.  Usually, all they’ll say is its face-lifted replacement, the HX (1976-1977), was worse.  With its chassis not including the "radial tuned suspension" (RTS) which lent the successor HZ (1975-1980) such fine handling and with engines strangled by the crude plumbing used in the era to reduce emissions, driving the HJ or HX really wasn’t a rewarding experience (although the V8 versions retained some charm) so there might have been hope Mazda’s curious decision to use the HJ (and later the HX) Premier as their top-of-the range executive car, complete with a smooth two-rotor Wankel, might have transformed the thing.  That it did but the peaky, high-revving rotary was wholly unsuited to a relatively large, heavy car.  Despite producing less power and torque than even the anaemic 202 cubic inch (3.3 litre) Holden straight-six it replaced, so hard did it have to work to shift the weight that fuel consumption was worse even than when Holden fitted their hardly economical 308 cubic inch (5.0 litre) V8 for the home market.  Available only in Japan and sold officially between 1975-1977, fewer than eight-hundred were built, the company able to off-load the last of the HXs only in early 1980.  The only thing to which Mazda attached its name not mentioned in their corporate history, it's the skeleton in the Mazda closet and the company would prefer were forget the thing which it seems to think of as "our Edsel".

The archbishop and the abdication

Archbishop Cosmo Gordon Lang (1932), oil on canvas by Anglo-Hungarian society portraitist Philip Alexius László de Lombos (1869–1937 and known professionally as Philip de László).  Lang was christened Cosmo in honor of the local Laird (in Scotland, historically a feudal lord and latterly the “courtesy title” of an area’s leading land-owner, most prominent citizen etc).  The noun Laird was from the northern or Scottish Middle English lard & laverd (a variant of lord).

Scottish Anglican prelate Cosmo Gordon Lang (First Baron Lang of Lambeth, 1864–1945; Archbishop of York 1908–1928 & Archbishop of Canterbury 1928–1942 was a clergyman with uncompromising views about much.  This type was once common in pulpits and although those of his faction exist still in the the modern Church of England, they tend now to exchange view only behind closed doors.  He’d probably be today almost forgotten were it not for an incendiary broadcast he made (as Archbishop of Canterbury and thus spiritual head of the Church of England and the worldwide Anglican community) on BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) Radio on 13 December, 1936, two days after the abdication of Edward VIII (1894–1972; King of the UK & Emperor of India January-December 1936, subsequently Duke of Windsor).  The address to the nation remains the most controversial public intervention made by a Church of England figure in the twentieth century, judged by many to be needlessly sanctimonious and distastefully personal, its political dimension the least objectionable aspect.

As a piece of text it did have a pleasingly medieval feel, opening with some memorable passages including: “From God he received a high and sacred trust. Yet by his own will he has abdicated” and “It is tragic that the sacred trust was not held with a firmer grip”.  That set the tone although when he said: “There has been much sympathy with the king in his great personal difficulty, and I do not forget how deeply he has touched the hearts of millions with his warm interest in the homes and lives of his people” his large audience may have thought some Christian charity did lurk in the Archbishop’s soul but quickly he let that moment pass, returning to his theme: “The causes which led to the king's decision are fully known to the nation.  But it has been made plain that the reigning sovereign of this country must be one whose private life and public conduct can be trusted to reflect the Christian ideal."

Unlike many modern Archbishops, there was no ambiguity about Lang so in his defense it can be argued be provided the Church with a moral clarity of greater certainty than anything detectable in Lambeth Palace in recent decades.  So there was that but by the 1930s the mood of opinion-makers in the UK had shifted and Lang’s text was seen as morally judgmental and the idea Edward VIII had failed not so much as a constitutional monarch but in his divine duty seemed archaic, few in the country framing things as the king’s personal failure before God.  What was clear was the point Edward’s relationship with a twice-divorced woman disqualified him morally and spiritually from being king which many critics within the church thought a bleak approach to a clergyman’s pastoral role.  In a sermon from the pulpit to the faithful it might have gone down well but as a national address, the tone was misplaced.  In self-imposed exile, privately Edward privately described the broadcast as “a vile and vindictive attack” and in his ghost-written memoirs (A King's Story (1951)), he accused the archbishop of “cruelty”.

Remembered also from the broadcast’s aftermath was a satirical verse printed in Punch by the novelist Gerald Bullett (1893–1958 (who published also under the pseudonym Sebastian Fox)).  Bullet’s included the words “how full of cant you are!”, using “cant” in the sense of “to speak in a manner speak in a hypocritical or insincere), an allusion to Lang signing his documents : “Cosmo Cantuar” (Cantuar the abbreviation for Cantuarium (Latin for Canterbury)):

“My Lord Archbishop, what a scold you are!
And when your man is down, how bold you are!
Of Christian charity how scant you are!
And, auld Lang swine, how full of cant you are!” 

Pillow

Pillow (pronounced pil-oh)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(10) To rest on a pillow.

(11) To support with pillows.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lindsay Lohan themed pillows are available.

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

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

Jeremy Thorpe arriving at Minehead Magistrates Court, 4 December 1978, for the famous "pillow biter" trial.

The matter was committal proceedings against him and three others on charges of conspiring to murder former male model Norman Scott.  Ultimately Mr Thorpe was acquitted of all charges.  The car is a Rover 3500S (P6).  3500S was the original designation of the 3500s sold during the model's abortive foray (1970-1971) into the US market but elsewhere was used to designate the version offered with a four-speed manual transmission (1971-1977), the original introduced in 1968 exclusively in automatic form.

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

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

1972 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight Regency brochure.

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

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

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

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

However, all the d'Elegance bling did was match what others were doing and there was still the corporate memory of the Cadillac mystique, a hankering for the time when Cadillac had been the “standard of the world”, a reputation built in the 1930s on basic engineering such as almost unique sixteen cylinder engines and maintained a generation later with cars such as the Eldorado Brougham, times when the name stood for something truly impressive.  By 1974 the world had changed and such extravagances were no longer possible but what could still be done was to add more gingerbread and for 1974, Cadillac announced the Talisman package.  Much more expensive than the d'Elegance and consequently more exclusive, the Talisman included an extended centre console, the front section housing an illumined writing tablet, the rear a storage compartment.  This had been done before but never with this opulence although it had the effect of reducing the huge car, a size which historically been a six-seater, into something strictly for four.  The interior was available in four colors in "Medici" crushed velour at US$1800 or in two shades in leather at US$2450 at a time when the Chevrolet Vega, GM’s entry-level automobile of the era cost US$2087.  The Talisman additionally gained matching deep-pile interior carpeting and floor-mats, a fully padded elk grain vinyl roof, exterior badge identifications, a stand-up, full-color wreath and crest hood ornament and unique wheel-covers.  For those who needed more, for an additional US$85, a matching pillow and robe was available although the robe unfortunately wasn't cut in leather.  Optioned with the leather package, a 1974 Cadillac Talisman cost about US$13,200, matching what the company charged for the even bigger Fleetwood 75 limousines.  The additional gingerbread wasn’t all that expensive to produce; what Cadillac was selling was exclusivity and the market responded, 1898 Talismans coming off the production line that year, all sold at a most impressive profit.  Most prized today are the relative handful trimmed in leather, the urban legend being all were in medium saddle with none in the dark blue which was on the option list.  If any were sold with the blue leather, none appear now to exist and Cadillac’s records don’t record the breakdown.

1974 Imperial LeBaron four-door hardtop (left) in chestnut tufted leather though not actually “fine 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.  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.

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

Built-in foam pillows: 1972 Imperial LeBaron four-door hardtop (left) and 1977 Chrysler New Yorker Brougham four-door hardtop (right).

Chrysler corporation’s implementation of the “loose pillow look” was the industry’s most sumptuous and on the more expensive in the range, the look extended even to “built-in foam pillows” affixed to the C-pillars, a luxury for dozing customers and these were the sort of cars which were famous for “floating” effortlessly down freeways so probably it wasn’t uncommon for folk in the back to be lulled into sleep; the huge machines of the 1970s were nicknamed “land yachts” with good reason.  The pillows also proved to be dual-purpose.  Between 1969-1973, the Imperial’s rear map-reading lamps (maps used to be printed on paper) were located next to the rear windscreen and while they worked as intended, they had a sort of “stuck-on” look which didn’t suit the ambiance of the interior.  When illuminated, they also glowed in the driver’s rear-view mirror and because the stylists were anyway intending to better integrate the units, it was decided to do so in such a way that would make the light unobtrusive for the driver, removing a potential distraction.  The new design made it debut with the 1974 range.

1974 Imperial LeBaron brochure featuring "built-in foam pillows and lavaliere straps".

Chrysler made many mistakes during the 1970s but the basic engineering was usually sound and the new map-reading lamps were indicative of the approach.  Not only did the new lamps offer “increased luminosity” but the glow was now “warmer and softer” which sounds like advertising “puffery” but the terms are an accepted part of the jargon of light and the wider aperture of the lens meant what was cast was in a broader beam, better suited to maps or anything else being read.  The shape of the built-in foam pillows was used also to ensure the light couldn’t distract the driver, the engineers devoting some energy to working out just how much padding should be used to achieve this, while not detracting from the lamp’s functionality.  On the four-door models, there was also on each C-Pillar a “lavaliere strap”.

Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989) in Cadillac presidential limousine demonstrating the correct grip of a lavaliere strap.

“Lavaliere” is a term from jewellery design which describes a pendant (typically with a single stone) suspended from a necklace and presumably Chrysler’s marketing department thought that sounded much better than the more brutish “grab handle”, typified by the later Subaru BRAT, a vehicle in which admittedly they were essential.  On his Californian ranch, Mr Regan kept a Subaru BRAT but removed the tariff-dodging jump seats so didn't have the pleasure of using the grab handles.  The jewellery style was named after Françoise-Louise de La Baume Le Blanc, Duchess of La Vallière and Vaujours (1644–1710) who was, between 1661-1667 (a reasonable run in such a profession), the mistress of Louis XIV (1638–1715; le Roi Soleil (the Sun King), King of France 1643-1715); it’s said the adaptation of her name for the pendants was based on the frequency with which the accessories appeared in her many portraits.

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 (in which a separate piece appears 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 Q&D (quick & dirty) way by including all the lesser Regal’s options (including the 318 cubic inch (5.2 litre) V8) as standard equipment; only the tufted upholstery and optional leather was unique to the model.  Sales were modest but there remained a devoted following for the Valiant which was durable enough to endure the sometimes harsh environment and it was highly regarded for its towing capabilities, even when fitted with the lusty six cylinder engines which were the best produced by the local industry.  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.