Gown

Gown (pronounced goun) 

(1) A type of woman's dress or robe, especially one full-length and worn on formal occasions and often styled as “evening gown” or “ball gown”.

(2) As nightgown, a loose fitting garment worn by sleeping (historically by both men & women but now most associated with the latter); the shortened for is “nightie”.

(3) As surgical gown, a light, protective garment worn in hospitals by medical staff, a specialized form of which is the isolation gown.

(4) As dressing gown (also call bathrobe), a garment in the form of an open robe secured by a tie and often worn over pajamas, after a bath and prior to dressing or on other occasions where there’s no immediate need to dress.

(5) A loose, flowing outer garment in various forms, worn to denote an office held, profession practiced or as an indication of rank or status, most associated with formal academic dress (sometimes in the phrase “cap & gown”).

(6) Those who work or study at a university as opposed to the other residents of the university town, expressed in the phrase “town & gown”.

(7) Historically, the dress of civil, as opposed to military officers.

(8) To supply with or dress in a gown.

1300-1350: From Middle English goune & gowne, from Anglo-Norman gune & goune (fur-trimmed coat, pelisse), from the Old French goune (robe, coat; nun's habit), from the Late Latin gunna (a garment of fur or leather), from the Ancient Greek γούνα (goúna) (coarse garment), of unknown origin but may be from a Balkan or Apennine language where it seems to have been used as early as the eighth century to describe a fur (or fur-lined), cloak-like garment worn by old or infirm monks; More speculatively, some scholars suggest a Celtic source.  The alternative explanation suggests a Scythian origin, from the Proto-Iranian gawnám (fur), the possibility of this link supported by the Younger Avestan gaona (body hair) and the Ossetian гъун (ǧun).  The alternative spelling gowne is obsolete and descendants in other languages include the Bengali গাউন (gaun), the Japanese ガウン, the Korean  가운 (gaun), the Malay gaun, the Punjabi ਗਾਊਨ (gāūna) and the Welsh gown.  Gown is a noun and verb and gowned is an adjective; the noun plural is gowns.

Surgeon in blood-splattered surgical gown (also called hospital or medical gowns), mid-procedure.

As late as the eighteenth century, gown was the common word for what is now usually described as dress and gown in this sense persisted in the US longer than in the UK and there was on both sides of the Atlantic something of a twentieth century revival and the applied uses (bridal gown, nightgown etc) became more or less universal.  The meaning “a loose, flowing outer garment in various forms, worn to denote an office held, profession practiced or as an indication of rank” emerged in the late fourteenth century and the collective singular for “residents of a university” dates from the 1650s, still heard in the rhyming phrase “town & gown”.  The night-gown (worn once by both men & women but now associated almost exclusively with the latter) became a thing in the fourteenth century.

Lindsay Lohan in white & black color-blocked bandage dress.  With a flawless figure, Ms Lohan doesn't need the "corrective" effects the bandage construction provides and this one may really be a bodycon dress with the visual effect of "bandage layers" created by stitched folds. 

Dress dates from circa 1300 and was from the Middle English dressen & dresse (to arrange, put in order), from the Anglo-Norman & Old French dresser, drecier (which persists in as dresser), from the unattested Vulgar Latin dīrēctiāre, from the Classical Latin dīrēctus, the perfect passive participle of dīrigō (to arrange in lines, direct, steer), the construct being dis- (the prefix in this context meaning “apart; asunder; in two’) + regō (to govern, manage), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European h₃reǵ- (straight, right).  The noun dress was derived from the verb and emerged in the sense of “attire” in the early 1600s.  Originally, a dress was always something which covered both the upper and lower parts of the female body but not of necessity in once piece.  The dressing gown seems first to have been described as such in 1854 although in French both robe de chambre (dressing gown) & robe de nuit (nightgown) had been in use for centuries.

Lindsay Lohan in dressing gowns; in the US such things would usually be called bathrobes.

Robe dates from the mid-thirteenth century Middle English robe & robbe and was from the Old French robe, robbe & reube (booty, spoils of war, robe, garment), from the Frankish rouba & rauba (booty, spoils, stolen clothes (literally “things taken”)), from the Old High German roub, from the Proto-Germanic raubō, raubaz & raubą (booty, that which is stripped or carried away), from the primitive Indo-European Hrewp- (to tear away, peel off).  The noun use of robe to refer to garments had entered general use by the late thirteenth century, an adoption of a meaning from the Old French, presumably because fine clothing looted from defeated enemies were among the most prized of the spoils of war.  The Old French robe (and the alternative spellings) had as concurrent meanings both “clothing” & “plunder: as did the Germanic forms including the Old English reaf (plunder, booty, spoil; garment, armor, vestment).  By the late thirteenth century, robe had assumed the meaning “a long, loose outer garment reaching almost to the floor, worn by men or women over other dress”, those closest European equivalents being the twelfth century Old French robe (long, loose outer garment) and the Old High German rouba (vestments).  In royal, academic and ecclesiastical circles, the particular style of robes became regulated to denote rank, function or or membership of a religious order and royal courts would include offices like “page of the robes”, “mistress of the robes”, master of the robes etc” although those titles are (to modern eyes) misleading because their responsibilities extended to garments generally and not just robes as they’re now understood.  The metonymic sense of “the robe” for "the legal profession" dates from the 1640s, a reference to the dark robes worn by advocates when appearing in court.  Robe went on productively to be adopted for other purposes including (1) in the US “the skin of a bison (later applied to other slaughtered beasts) used as a cloak or wrap, (2) a short form of wardrobe (especially when built into a wall rather than being stand-alone) and (3) the largest and strongest leaves on a tobacco plant.

Singer Dr Taylor Swift in academic gown after being conferred an honorary doctorate in fine arts from New York University, May 2022.

In formal and vocational use, gown and robe and well understood and there tends not to be overlap except among those unacquainted with such things.  That’s understandable because to the casual observer the things can look much the same and the differences in nomenclature are more to do with tradition than style or cut.  Judges for example ware judicial robes and in the US these are usually black whereas elsewhere in the English-speaking world they can be of quite vivid hues, red and scarlet the most admired.  The US influence however seem pervasive and the trend is now almost universally black, certainly among newly established courts; in the same courts, barristers robes look much the same the term “judicial robe” is exclusive to the bench, the advocates garments variously called “barristers’ robes” “legal robes” or lawyers’ robes”.  Academics however wear gowns and again, the Americans tend to favor black while in the English tradition, all the colors of the rainbow have been seen.  These differ from surgical (also known as hospital or medical gowns) which, compared with just about every other gown, really aren’t gowns at all.  Surgical gowns are made usually in a blue, beige or green pastel color (better to show the blood) and are a kind of inverted dress which is fastened at the back (by an assistant so the wearer’s fingers don’t pick up germs).  In the UK parliament, there were many robes for offices of state and the one worn by the speaker made its way to colonial and dominion parliaments.  They're now rarely worn except on ceremonial occasions and the best known is probably that of the UK’s chancellors of the exchequer although the last one, dating from the late nineteenth century, is said to have “gone missing” while Gordon Brown (b 1951; UK prime-minister 2007-2010) was chancellor.

The Welsh Wizard robed: Lloyd George as Chancellor of the Exchequer (1911) (David Lloyd George, 1863–1945; UK prime-minister 1916-1922, severed as chancellor between 1908-1915), oil on canvas by Christopher Williams (1873–1934), National Library of Wales collection.

Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) was in 1924 both surprised and delighted when Stanley Baldwin (1867–1947; UK prime-minister 1923-1924, 1924-1929 & 1935-1937) offered him the Treasury; he’d heard rumors of appointed “chancellor” as assumed the best he could hope for was the chancellorship of the Duchy of Lancaster which, although an ancient office dating from the fourteenth century, he knew to be little more than a sinecure of slight influence, having in 1915 been for a few months relegated there after leaving the Admiralty in the wake of the failure of the Dardanelles campaign.  To atone, he went to the trenches of the Western Front and for some six month commanded a regiment of the Royal Scots Fusiliers.  Though never forgotten, much was by 1924 forgiven and Churchill was pleased to tell the prime minister he’d be glad to take the exchequer, one slight benefit to the public purse being “I still have the robes my father (Lord Randolph Churchill (1849–1895; Chancellor of the Exchequer August-December 1886)) wore as chancellor”.  In retrospect, that sartorial convenience might have been an inadequate background for handling the nation’s finances and Churchill often is listed high up the list of the UK’s “worst chancellors”, the main charge being returning sterling to the gold standard and maintaining an over-valued currency but just about all the great institutions of state (the Treasury, the Cabinet, the Bank of England etc) and most economists (a notable dissenter being John Maynard Keynes (later Lord Keynes) 1883-1946) who predicted depression as a consequence) recommended the move.  Still, it was Churchill was who signed the documents and the consensus among historians of such things is that had he known anything of economics, he’d likely have signed with even greater alacrity.

NSW (New South Wales (Australia)) Supreme Court and Court of Appeal judges in judicial robes and wigs for a ceremonial event during the COVID-19 pandemic.

It’s in women’s fashion where the distinction between a gown and a dress can become muddied and probably most illustrative is the matter of the “wedding dress” and the “wedding gown”.  Even among couturiers, there’s actually no agreed definition of where one ends and the other begins; it’s very much in the eye of the beholder although the eye of the retailer is doubtless quite an influence, the theory being the grander the design and the greater the volume of fabric, the more plausible is the label “wedding gown” and the higher the price-tag.  These informal (but serviceable) rules of thumb work also for dresses & gowns in general, the distinction more one of semantics and personal preference although, in saying that, it’s only at the margins where there can be confusion; a minimalist LBD (little black dress) would never be confused with a gown and the grandest creations recalling those worn at the famous balls held in conjunction with the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815) would never be called dresses.

Watercolor by unknown artist of one of the many balls held during the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815).  Being ankle-length, gowns were not the ideal garment for ladies dancing and it's likely some made temporary modifications, "hitching them up" a bit.

Despite that, in the narrow technical sense, to a seamstress, all gowns are dresses, but not all dresses are gowns and as late as the early eighteenth century the word "dress" was still not the exclusive province of women’s clothing ensembles.  In recent centuries, the dress has been defined by its modifiers (sun-dress, summer-dress, evening-dress, travelling dress, tent dress, riding-dress etc) and the modern convention seems to be that if an invitation specifies "semi-formal" then an evening dress is expected and that might be something thought a gown but not necessarily.  However, when an invitation states that the occasion is "formal", women are expected to wear an evening gown.  Classically, that’s understood to be something at once precise yet frivolous, with a tight fitting bodice and a skirt at least brushing the floor and this was once the accepted standard for any red-carpet event of note but the recent trend towards displays of flesh has in the entertainment industry subverted the tradition although the audience is expected still to adhere.

Illustrating the modern gown: Actor Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) in a gown with an upper-level silk tulle (a netting-like weave) by Zac Posen (b 1980), Met Gala, New York, 2007 (left) and model Kate Upton (b 1992) in a gown by Victoria Beckham (b 1974, the one-time “Posh Spice”, now Lady Beckham), Vanity Fair Oscars after-party, Los Angeles, 2016.

Fashion has since the Congress of Vienna become simplified and rather than voluminous layers of fabric, a gown’s effects are now generated by cut & color.  For his diaphanous piece, Zac Posen included a quadrilateral (a four-sided polygon) cleavage split, designed cleverly to emulate a tie (in Euclidean geometry defined as a “kite” (two pairs of adjacent, equal-length sides with the two shorter sides meeting at the bottom vertex, the longer pair intersecting at the top so a line described from top to bottom produces an axis of reflection symmetry, as does the fall of a tie)).  What Lady Beckham included would probably now be called a “uvage” although physiology can affect outcome; on a different model (with less pronounced “forward projection”) the fabric would likely fall to create a “veagage”.  While there can be overlaps in cut, construction and cues, there are points at which a LBD becomes re-defined as a “dress” (possibly with a modifier or two) or a “gown”.  Although motifs can matter (what sometimes appears on a gown often not suitable for a LBD that depends on simplicity for effect) the prime determinate really is length, the classic LBD’s hemline stopping somewhere on the thighs while a gown properly should be ankle-length although calf-left implementations have become not uncommon.  The “rule” is however selectively applied and depends also on style and intended purpose; an ankle-length “maxi-dress” will typically not be a “gown”.  Again, physiology can also influence things, someone especially statuesque could appear in a LBD while the same garment on someone shorter might be classed a “black cocktail dress”, simply because the hemline reaches below the knee.  So usually it’s not difficult to tell what is a gown but, at the margins, the distinctions can become blurred and it’s really “eye of the beholder” stuff, a subjective exercise expressed best (in another context) by Potter Stewart (1915–1985; associate justice of the SCOTUS (US Supreme Court) 1958-1981) in his famous concurring judgement in Jacobellis v Ohio (378 U.S. 184 (1964)): “I shall not today attempt further to define the kinds of material I understand to be embraced within [the term], and perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so.  But I know it when I see it…”

Ambassador

Ambassador (pronounced am-bas-uh-dawr)

(1) A diplomatic official of the highest rank, sent by one sovereign or state to another as its resident representative (ambassador extraordinary and plenipotentiary).

(2) A diplomatic official of the highest rank sent by a government to represent it on a temporary mission, as for negotiating a treaty.

(3) A diplomatic official serving as permanent head of a country's mission to the United Nations or some other international organization.

(4) An authorized messenger or representative.

(5) A term for a corporate representative, often the public face(s) of the company, mush favoured by fashion houses etc.

1325-1375: From the Middle English ambassadore, from the Anglo-Norman ambassadeur & ambassateur, from the Old Italian ambassatore (ambassador in the dialectal Italian), from the Old Occitan ambaisador (ambassador), a derivative of ambaissa (service, mission, errand), from the Medieval Latin ambasiator, from the andbahti (service, function), from the Proto-Germanic ambahtiją (service, office), a derivative of the Proto-Germanic ambahtaz (servant), from the Gaulish ambaxtos (servant) which was the source also of the Classical Latin ambactus (vassal, servant, dependent).  The early Proto-Celtic ambaxtos (servant), was from the primitive Indo-European ambhi (drive around), from ambi- (around) + ag- (to drive).  The adjective ambassadorial (of or belonging to an ambassador) dates from 1759.  The spellings ambassador and embassador were used indiscriminately until the nineteenth century, the OED (Oxford English Dictionary) curiously continuing, well into the twentieth century, to insist the later was the preferred form in US English long after it had there been abandoned everywhere except in the halls of the State Department.  In diplomatic use, the US government had an interesting history of nomenclature, neither sending nor accrediting foreign ambassadors, having only “ministers”.  The reason for this lies in the origins of the United States as a revolutionary state freeing itself from monarchical tyranny; it thus insisted only on ministers who represented states, not ambassadors who historically were the personal emissaries of sovereigns.  Functionally there was no difference and not infrequently, in in casual use ministers were styled as ambassadors with neither offence or declaration of war following and, having made the political point for a century, after 1893, every minister became instead an ambassador.  Ambassador, ambassadress, ambassadry & ambassadrship are nouns, ambassadorial & ambassadorless are  adjectives and ambassadorially is an adverb; the noun plural is ambassadors.

Kylie Jenner (b 1997), a most glam glambassador.

The neologism ambassadonor was coined to describe those appointed to ambassadorships on the basis of the size of their donations to whichever party has the embassy in their gift.  A common practice of long-standing in the US, it’s a way not only of conferring prestige on the appointee but also grants them a title, the convention being an entitlement for life to be addressed as Mr or Madam Ambassador.  For doners, the appointments can be good value for money because (1) traditionally they’re skewed towards desirable locations (a nice (non-shithole) country with a pleasant climate and a majority white population) and (2) they’re effectively sinecures during which one can wine & dine (the US taxpayer picking up the tab), network and pursue business opportunities with any real work handled by the professional staff appointed by the State Department.  That’s just how politics works and it’s a better gig than being something like secretary of state for agriculture.  The nouns ambassadress & ambassadrix are now rare and did double duty as (1) a female ambassador or (2) the wife of an ambassador.  In the modern age, either may make a comeback because when a female ambassador is appointed, if she has a wife the forms may be thought useful but should she have a husband, there’s no equivalent honorific; he’s just an unacknowledged appendage.  Tempting though the thought may be, embassador & embassadress are not two embarrassing appointees (possibly ambassadonors) to an embassy but just now archaic alternative spellings of ambassador & ambassadress.  The informal noun glambassador describes a glamorous public figure (especially a female celebrity) who uses (or licences) her personal brand & image to promote some product or cause.  Kylie Jenner’s role in the promotion of Meta Glasses (camera glasses) may be thought a glambassadorship.

Diplomatic ranks since 1961

Margaret Qualley (b 1994), Venice Film Festival, August 2019, Brand Ambassador for French fashion house Chanel.

Diplomatic rank is the system of professional and social rank used in the world of diplomacy and international relations. A diplomat's rank determines many ceremonial details, such as the order of precedence at official processions, the seat at the table at state dinners, the person to whom diplomatic credentials should be presented and the title by which they should be addressed.  The current system of diplomatic ranks was established by the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations (1961) and the modern list is a simplified version of the more elaborate system established by the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815).  There are now three senior ranks, two of which remain in use:

Ambassador. An ambassador is a head of mission who is accredited to the receiving country's head of state. They head a diplomatic mission known as an embassy, which usually is headquartered in a chancery in the receiving state's capital, often clustered with others is what’s often styled a “diplomatic quarter”, a feature of town-planning especially associated with cities where physical security is a concern.  A papal nuncio is considered to have ambassadorial rank, and they preside over a nunciature; often, in predominantly Roman Catholic countries the nuncio is, ex officio, appointed dean of the diplomatic corps.  Between Commonwealth countries, high commissioners are exchanged; they preside over a high commission and enjoy the same diplomatic rank as an ambassador.

Minister. A Minister is a head of mission who is accredited to the receiving country's head of state. A Minister heads a legation rather than an embassy. However, the last legations were upgraded to embassies in the late 1960s, and the rank of Minister is now functionally obsolete although any country may at any time appoint them.  An envoy or an internuncio was also considered to have the rank of Minister; they’re now granted status ad-hoc but tend to be regarded as being on the level of consular appointments.  None of this should be confused with the long and tangled history of the resident minister, appointments sometimes political, sometimes diplomatic and sometime administrative.  At different times and in different places, it has meant different things, used essentially to mean whatever the immediate situation demanded and, being outside any formal rules or conventions of diplomacy, flexibility was possible.

A chargé d'affaires en pied (usually styled as chargé d'affairs in everyday use) is a permanent head of mission, accredited by his country's foreign minister to the receiving nation's foreign minister, in cases where the two governments have not reached an agreement to exchange ambassadors.  A chargé d'affaires ad interim is a diplomat who temporarily heads a diplomatic mission in the absence of an ambassador.

A variety of titles exist beneath the formal three such as counsellor, first secretary, second secretary, third secretary, attaché and assistant attaché.  The actual roles discharged vary, indeed, some of these jobs are actually covers for spies or other political operatives and, just as ambassadorships are used often as a rewards for helpful services (such as large campaign donations) or as a temptingly lucrative sinecure to get a potential rival out of the country, the lower appointments have been a dumping ground for troublesome public servants when, for whatever reason, they can’t be sacked.  The diplomatic appointment also determines the description of the architecture.  An ambassador works from (and usually lives in) an embassy whereas other diplomats (except Commonwealth high commissioners who operate from high commissions) tend to be housed in consulates.  Like ambassador and embassador, the terms ambassy and embassy used to be interchangeable but in each case one prevailed and the other went extinct.  Etymology has no explanation for either case except it was just a pattern of use which emerged and that’s how English evolves.  The word embassy evolved in another way.  It now, institutionally and architecturally, refers to something permanent but, until the late nineteenth century was more often a temporary mission and described a delegation which would return home when its business concluded.  The history is reflected in some terms still used in diplomacy such as "Head of Mission".

Uncle Otto and nephew Eric

Uncle Otto, taking the salute, Paris 1940.

Because the Third Reich (1933-1945) never concluded a peace treaty with Vichy France, diplomatic recognition was not possible so no ambassador was accredited.  There was however a de-facto ambassador, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) in November 1940 appointing Otto Abetz (1903-1958) to the German Embassy in Paris, a post he held until July 1944 when diplomatic conditions changed a bit.  As the letters patent made clear, he acted with full ambassadorial powers and, genuinely a Francophile, he certainly attempted to use his authority in a way he thought would be conducive to making France a central element in a Europe under Berlin's benign hegemony.  These proto-EU (European Union (1993)), the multi-national aggregation which evolved from the EEC (European Economic Community), the Zollverein formed in 1957) gestures didn't much impress his colleagues from the Nazi's "loot & pillage" school of thought with Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) openly contemptuous of "Herr Abetz's" earnestness.  Hitler, who applied "divide and conquer" tactics to enemies, allies & associates alike, seldom attempted to mediate in such squabbles.  In July 1949 a French court handed Abetz a 20 year sentence for crimes against humanity; released in 1954, he died in 1958 in a traffic accident on the Cologne-Ruhr Autobahn and there are conspiracy theorists who suspect the death was an "assassination", the French in the era not above administering some ex post facto justice.

Nephew Eric, taking tea, Canberra 2018.

Otto Abetz was the great uncle of Eric Abetz (b 1958; Liberal Party senator for Tasmania, Australia 1994-2022, member of the Tasmanian House of assembly since 2024).  Because of the coincidence of one being born in the same year death visited the other, there was speculation about the transmigration of uncle Otto’s soul to nephew Eric.  Spiritualists however generally agree this would have been impossible because the former senator was born on 25 January, his old Nazi relative living until 5 May the same year.  Transmigration was known also as metempsychosis and was an idea most associated in the West with pre-Ancient (archaic) Greece but which may (perhaps concurrently) have origins in Egypt and India.  Mr Abetz is now Tasmania's treasurer, a perhaps thankless task given the level of the state exchequer's indebtedness but despite his reputation as a conservative, he has a history of innovation, proudly telling one interviewer his law firm was in the 1980s the first in Hobart to include a splash of color on the firm's letterhead.  At the time, that would have seen some think him a troublesome radical but clearly he's a problem-solver and that's good because in his new role there are problems to solve.  Encouragingly, despite the unpromising family background, no evidence has ever emerged linking Eric Abetz to the Freemasons co there's that.

Lindsay Lohan: Allbirds Ambassador         

Lindsay Logan, nueva embajadora de Allbirds (the new Allbirds ambassador), possibly on a Wednesday.

In 2022, Allbirds appointed Lindsay Lohan as an ambassador for its "Unexpected Athlete" campaign, focusing on her for the new limited edition of its most successful running shoe to date, the Tree Flyer.  The promotional video issued for the announcement was nicely scripted, beginning with Ms Lohan’s perhaps superfluous admission that as an ambassador for running “I am a little unexpected" before working in a few references to her career in film (showing again a rare sense of comedic timing), fondness for peanut butter cookies and the odd social media faux-pas, many of which she's over the years embraced.  It wasn't disclosed if the photo-shoot happened on a Wednesday but the featured shoe (Lux Pink) was said to include no plastics but Allbirds didn't respond to enquiries about the material used for the laces' aglets.  

Lindsay Lohan, Allbirds “Unexpected Athlete Ambassador”.

As a well-known car driver and frequent flyer who has for years lived in an air-conditioned cocoon in Dubai, it’s not clear how far up the chart of conspicuous consumption Ms Lohan has stamped her environmental footprint but US-based footwear and apparel company Allbirds claims its design, production & distribution processes are designed to make its products as eco-friendly as possible.  It is a certified “B Corporation”, a system of private certification of for-profit companies of their "social and environmental performance" conferred by B Lab, a non-profit organization which claims to provide consumers with a way reliably to distinguish the genuinely environmentally active from those who cynically “greenwash”.

The AMC Ambassador's footnote in the history of automotive AC

The AMC (American Motors Corporation) Ambassador was between 1957-1974 produced in eight generations although the name had since 1927 been used by a company that would become part of the ultimately doomed AMC conglomerate.  Emblematic of the company's unsuccessful attempt consistently to compete with Detroit's big three (GM (General Motors), Ford and Chrysler), the Ambassador was in those years offered variously as an intermediate and full-sized model but unfortunately, this culminated in its largest ever iteration being sold as the first oil crisis struck in 1973; the universe shifted and the Ambassador was axed in little more than year.  One footnote in the story is that in 1968, the advertising made much of the Ambassador being the only car in the world (other than those from Rolls-Royce) with AC (air-conditioning) as standard equipment.  That was a bit of a fudge in that at the time a number of European manufacturers fitted AC (optional in Europe) to all of at least some of the models they shipped to the US but technically, AMC was correct.

1974 Rolls-Royce Phantom VI (1968-1990) Formal Limousine (coachwork by Mulliner Park Ward).

Originally, this Phantom VI was delivered to Moscow to serve as official car of British Ambassador to Russia; symbolism was of great significance during the high Cold War.  When supplied, it was in traditional diplomatic black but, after being acquired by a US collector, this was changed to two-tone black over garnet, close to the hues associated with some of the Rolls-Royces in the Royal Mews.  By the time the last left the factory in 1990, it probably remained true Rolls-Royce was "the best-built car in the world" but in many ways the Phantom VI was a relic with the engineering of some of the underpinnings dating from the inter-war years (1919-1939).  The sole virtue of the four-wheel drum brakes was their silence in operation and the solid rear axle's semi-elliptic springs (the nickname "cart springs" gained from them for centuries appearing on horse-drawn carts, carriages, buggies and such) were wrapped in leather gaiters, ensuring the ambassador would never be troubled by tiresomely intrusive squeaks.

The Rolls-Royce "best car in the world" cliché  was in the 1960s still a powerful cultural message and a couple of seasons earlier Ford had spent a lot of money on an advertising campaign asserting their then new range of full-sized Fords was "quieter than a Rolls-Royce", a claim that must have seemed audacious given the English company's hook: “At 60 mph (100 km/h) the loudest noise in a Rolls-Royce comes from the electric clock”.  That shtick had been verified (at least in ideal conditions) by sceptical journalists although one did note it was possible to make electric clocks function silently, concluding the company deliberately fitted time-pieces emitting an untypically loud “tick-tock”, just to ensure the claim was true.  Still, true it was and to ensure they couldn't be accused of “mere puffery”, Ford spent a lot of money, J. Walter Thompson (then Ford’s advertising agency) commissioning acoustical consultants Boldt, Beranek and Neuman to run tests, two brand new Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud (1955-1966) III (1963-1966) saloons purchased for the project.  What the engineer’s dB (decibel) meters revealed was that, under conditions that were controlled but representative of much of the driving experience in the US, the Fords were indeed quieter.

1964 Chrysler New Yorker Salon advertising.

AMC's marketing budget didn't stretch to hiring consultants of buying a brace of Roll-Royces but to verity its claim, all it required was a Rolls-Royce brochure or specification sheet, free from the closest distributer.  In a sense it was a bold move for AMC to include AC as standard in the Ambassador because it was in 1968 still far from a commonly ordered option and even Cadillacs, Lincolns and Imperials sometimes were ordered without the buyer ticking the box for what was then an expensive choice (well into four figures in 2026 US$ values).  Nor was the commercial history encouraging.  Chrysler in 1963-1964 had tried the approach of bundling almost all available options (including AC) into a top-of-the-range New Yorker it dubbed the “Salon”, daringly offering it at a price-point above some of the (less well-equipped) models in the Imperial line, nominally the corporation’s flagship brand.  Salon was from the French salon (reception room) and although the word was associated with gatherings of literary and artistic circles, most Americans were probably more familiar with the “beauty salon” (eyelashes, hair, nails and such) so how well the “associative messaging” would have cut through is uncertain but the imagery used for marketing certainly had a “European theme” with English society photographer Cecil Beaton (1904-1980) hired to do a few “artistic” shots.  Alas, at almost US$5,900 it was some 30% more expensive than the standard New Yorker and at that price was intruding not only on Imperial’s territory but also that of Cadillac and Lincoln, all with more “brand cachet” than Chrysler although, to be fair, on the basis of cost-breakdown, the value was there because it was still cheaper than any of them similarly equipped from their (long) option lists.  The salon lasted in the catalogue less than two seasons with a disappointing 2,214 sold (593 of the in 1963; 1,621 in 1964) and that was the last time the US industry dabbled with “standard AC” until AMC’s venture with the Ambassador for 1968. 

Laurel

Laurel (pronounced lawruhl or lor-uhl)

(1) A small European evergreen tree, Laurus nobilis, of the Lauraceae family, having dark, glossy green leaves (known also as the bay tree or sweet bay).  Trees & shrubs belonging to (or resembling) the natural order Lauraceae are said to be lauraceous.  When used as an adjective (not in the strict botanical sense), the comparative is more lauraceous, the superlative most lauraceous.

(2) Any tree of the genus Laurus.

(3) In general use, any of various similar trees or shrubs, as the mountain laurel or the great rhododendron.

(4) The foliage of the laurel as an emblem of victory or distinction.

(5) A branch or wreath of laurel foliage.

(6) In the plural (laurels or victory laurels), an award conferred (literally or figuratively) as an honor for achievement in some field or activity.

(7) An English gold coin minted in 1619, so called because the king's head was crowned with laurel.

(8) In many color charts, a green of a darker hue.

(9) To adorn or enwreathe with laurel.

(10) To honor with marks of distinction.

(11) A female given name (there have been rare instances of male use, including as a "second name" referencing some relative).

1250–1300: A dissimilated variant of the Middle English laurer (laurel), from the Anglo-Norman, from the twelfth century Old French laurier & lorier (bay tree; laurel tree), the construct being lor (bay) + -ier, from the Medieval Latin laurārius, from the Latin laurus (laurel tree), thought related to the Greek daphne (laurel), probably from a pre-Indo-European Mediterranean language.  The French suffix -ier was from the Middle French -ier & -er, from the Old French, from the Latin -ārium, the accusative of -ārius.  It was used to form the names of trees, ships, jobs etc.  The second -r- in the Middle English laurer changed to -l- by process of dissimilation.  Laurel & laureate are nouns & verbs, laureateship & laurustinus are nouns, laureled & laurelled are verbs & adjectives and lauriferous & lauraceous are adjectives; the noun plural is laurels.

Lindsay Lohan fridge magnet by Alexanton.  Laurel Hollow is an incorporated village in Nassau County on the North Shore of Long Island, New York, within the Town of Oyster Bay (where Theodore Roosevelt (TR, 1858–1919; POTUS 1901-1909) died).

The use to describe an emblem of victory or of distinction (hence the phrase “to rest on one’s laurels” (the original form was “repose upon”)) dates from 1831.  The phrase is now used used in the cautionary sense “don’t rest on your laurels”, a warning not to rely on a reputation gained through past successes but instead continue to strive and improve.  The companion phrase “look to your laurels” is an idiomatic expression (known in Antiquity) meaning one needs to be vigilant and attentive to one's accomplishments, skills or position because there will be those eager to surpass or outshine you.  Like “don’t rest on your laurels”, it stresses the importance of maintaining one’s competitive edge.  It was a bay leaf from a laurel shrub that Πυθία (Pythia, priestess of Pythian Apollo at Delphi) chewed during her prophetic trances.

Sirens and the Night (1865) by William Edward Frost (1810-1877).

Although most associated with women (the feminine variants including Laura, Lauren, Lori and Lorraine), Laurel is a unisex given name.  It was related to the German Lorelie and in Germanic mythology there were several tales of the lovely maiden Lorelei (luring rock) who lived upon a rock in the River Rhine.  She lured fishermen to their deaths by singing songs of such beauty they couldn't resist, a variation of the stories of the Sirens in Greek mythology.  The Sirens were legendarily beautiful but deadly creatures who used their lyrical and earthly charms to lure sailors to their death.  Attracted by their enchanting music and voices, the intrigued seafarers would sail too close to the rocky coast of the Siren’s island and be shipwrecked, there to suffer a worse fate still at the hands of the hungry Sirens.  In Homer's Odyssey (an epic poem from perhaps as long ago as the eighth century BC), it was Odysseus who most famously escaped the sirens.  Longing to hear their songs but, forewarned by Circe and having no wish to be shipwrecked and devoured, he had his sailors fill their ears with beeswax, rendering them deaf.  Then, he ordered he be tied to the mast, telling his crew that whatever he said, they were not to release him but instead tighten the knots, not cutting the bonds until the ship had sailed far from the coast.  Of course, approaching the rocks, he heard the lovely voices and implored the crew to release him but they followed their skipper’s orders, not setting him free until the danger had passed.  Some writers claimed the Sirens were doomed to die if a man heard their singing and escaped and, as Odysseus sailed off, they flung themselves into the waters and drowned but, among the myths, that was not always their fate.  Not untypically for the myths of Antiquity, the Sirens are said to have had many homes.  The Romans said they lived on some small islands called Sirenum scopuli while later authors place them variously on the islands of Anthemoessa, on Cape Pelorum, on the islands of the Sirenuse, near Paestum, or in Capreae.  All were places with rocky coasts and tall cliffs and thus for ships potentially lethal places although the fate of sailors was more gruesome, the Sirens devouring them.  The Argonauts sailed close to the Sirens, but, using the same principle as “radio jamming” in the twentieth century, Orpheus sang as long as the crew was within earshot of them (“drowning out their signal”), so none were lured (except the unfortunate Butes, carried away by Aphrodite after he fell victim).

#metoo: Apolo persiguiendo a Dafne (Apollo chasing Daphne (circa 1637)), oil on canvas by Theodoor van Thulden (1606–1669) after Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640), Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid.

The feminine proper name Daphne was from the Greek daphne (laurel, bay tree) and in mythology was the name of a nymph.  Etymologists conclude the word is related to the Latin laurus (laurel) although the mechanism has been lost in time.  In Greek mythology, Δάφνη (Daphne), daughter of the River Ladon (and sometimes of the Thessalian River Peneus), was a nymph with whom the God Apollo fell in love; he was provoked by Cupid, having disputed with him the power of his darts which Apollo, the recent conqueror of the Python, belittled.  When he pursued her to the banks of the Peneus, she was saved from being ravished by the god who transformed her into a Laurel tree, the origin of Apollo being so often depicted crowned with laurel leaves.  None of the writers from Antiquity seem ever to have pondered whether the nymph, had she been offered time to consider the choice between being ravished by a Greek god or becoming eternally arboreous, might have preferred to permit a slice be cut from the loaf.  While at the time not of much consolation to the unfortunate Daphne, Apollo ordained that the laurels should be the prize for poets and victors and, being, at least briefly, a sentimental chap, Apollo adopted the laurel as his favorite tree so there’s that.  The site of temples and a stadium, the Grove of Daphne was a pleasure resort of renowned natural beauty, dedicated to Apollo and located near Antioch.  

Apollo and Daphne (1622-1625), sculpture in white Carrara marble by Gianlorenzo Bernini (1598–1680), Galleria Borghese, Rome.

Being a Greek myth, there are of course variants in the tales and in a Laconian version, Daphne was the daughter of Amyclas who spent her days among the mountains where she was a favourite of Artemis.  From afar, Leucippus fell in love with her and, disguising himself as a girl, joined her companions.  Daphne became fond of him (thinking him a her), but Apollo became jealous and vowing to expose his trickery, inspired Daphne and her companions with a wish to bathe.  Leucippus, obviously, hesitated to remove his clothing, but his companions forcibly undressed him and, feeling betrayed upon discovering his identity, they attacked him, his life saved only by the gods rendering him invisible.  At this point, Apollo dashed to try to seize Daphne but she ran off and in answer to her prayer, Zeus turned her into a laurel.  Latter-day interpretations of Daphne's fate have differed.  While her name lives on as a tragic hero (the girl who gave up her life rather than succumb to a sexual assault) some feminists have criticized the notion that a victim of such a crime should be transformed into something silent and thus uncomplaining.

Audrey Hepburn (1929–1993) in a “laurel leaves” hat designed by Hubert de Givenchy (1927–2018), photograph by Howell Conant (1916–1999), Switzerland, February 1962.

As an adjective, laureate (crowned with laurels as a mark of distinction) dates from the late fourteenth century and the earliest reference was to poets of particular distinction, from the Latin laureatus (crowned with laurel), from laurea (laurel crown; emblematic of victory or distinction in poetry), from the feminine laureus (of laurel).  The first known use of Laureat poete is in Geoffrey Chaucer’s (circa 1344-1400) Canterbury Tales (1387-1400) in reference to Scholar and poet of early Renaissance Italy, Petrarch (Francesco Petrarca (1304–1374), and it was used in Middle English of Greek fabulist Aesop (circa 620–564 BC) and, by the early fifteenth century of Chaucer himself.

In English the inverted form “poet laureate” was in imitation of Latin word order and although used informally since the early 1400s, the evidence suggests the first appointed by the state was probably (and perhaps posthumously) Ben Jonson (circa 1572–circa 1637) in 1638 although the first for whom the letters patent remain extant was John Dryden (1631–1700).  In the UK, the position of poet laureate is an honorary office in the gift of the sovereign but in these days, appointed on the advice of the prime minister; because few prime-ministers know much of poetry, they too take advice on the matter; in that, it's similar to the appointment of bishops, most prime ministers knowing as little of religion.  Curiously, although the office is not un-remunerated, the government describes it still as an “honorary appointment”, the advantage of that being summary dismissal is a simpler process should the poet start writing material unpleasing to the party in power.  It may be more correct to call it a kind of sinecure because while the expectation is the appointee will compose verse to mark moments of national significance, such things are not defined and nor are aspects such as frequency or length.  So it’s one of those “gentlemen’s agreements” which, as late as the 1950s was still a feature of the way the establishment ran the UK.  That would have extended also to Dame Carol Ann Duffy (b 1955, poet laureate 2009-2019), thus far the only woman appointed (she had the benefit of ticking several boxes for Gordon Brown (b 1951; prime minister of the UK 2007-2010): Scottish; female; lesbian).  Just for once, Gordon's stars aligned.

Opportunity missed: Dylan Thomas (1914–1953, left) and his wife Caitlin Thomas (née Macnamara; 1913-1994, right) in the bar of Brown’s Hotel, Laugharne, Wales, 1938.

For his laureateship, Dryden's was paid an annual fee of Stg£200, the inclusion in 1630 by the doomed Charles I (1600–1649; King of England, Scotland & Ireland 1625-1649) of an annual “butt of Canary wine”, later converted into the monetary equivalent.  A butt of wine (known also as “a pipe”) had a volume of 105 imperial gallons (126 US gallons, 477 litres) and was part of the English standardized “Cask Measurement System” regulating trade in liquids between brewers, distillers, merchants and shippers.  All graduations of the defined sizes of wooden barrels were fractions of the largest standard cask (the “tun” (210 imperial gallons (252 US gallons, 954 litres)) with a butt a half-tun and a “hogshead” half a butt (52 imperial gallons (63 US gallons, 238 litres)).  However, being English, the system was complicated by a butt of ale or beer being defined as 108 imperial gallons (130 US gallons, 491 litres).  As a unit of measurement the butt was the origin of the slang term “buttload”.  The tradition of the “butt of Canary wine” was revived on the request of Ted Hughes (1930–1998; poet laureate 1984-1998) who received 720 bottles of sherry.  Being Irish, the poet Brendan Behan (1923-1964) wouldn't have been created poet laureate but the government avoided a significant charges against the exchequer by not appointing Dylan Thomas for whom 720 bottles of anything would likely not have proved sufficient.

Barack Obama (b 1961; POTUS 2009-2017, Nobel Peace Prize laureate 2009).  The peace prize is awarded by a committee elected by the Norwegian Stortinget (parliament); it summarized the basis of their decision being President Obama's: “...extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples.”  Those skilled in deconstruction concluded the true rationale was “He is not George W. Bush” (George XLIII, b 1946; POTUS 2001-2009)).

The poet laureate's annual payment is now “Stg£5,750 and a barrel of sherry” so it’s good gig considering there are no set hours and only the vaguest KPIs (key performance indicators).  There was a time when a poet laureate was an exalted figure but these days there’s less interest and the best remembered probably still is Ted Hughes (1930–1998; poet laureate 1984-2008) and that less for his oeuvre than calls by feminists to boycott his works because he had Sylvia Plath’s (1932-1963) “blood on his quill”.  The noun laureate came into existence in the 1520s, either as an evolution from the adjective or through a mistaken reading and laureateship has been in use since 1732.  In modern use, laureate is most frequently applied to Nobel prize winners, a use that began in 1947; while many of the Nobel laureates have been outstanding figures in their field, there have been a few about as undeserving as some of the less distinguished British poets laureate.  Of the 21 who have held the office, serious critics seem to rate only Dryden, William Wordsworth (1770–1850; poet laureate 1843-1850) and Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892; poet laureate 1850-1892) as first-rate poets.

The laurel appeared in Hymn to Proserpine (1866), a poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837–1909) exploring atheism, a theme to which he would on occasion return as he developed in verse his increasingly strident opposition to Christianity in general and stifling Victorian morality particularly.  Nominated every year between 1903 and 1909 for the Nobel Prize in Literature, his name was on the list in 1893 presented to Victoria (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901) as the replacement for Tennyson as Poet Laureate but the queen vetoed him “on moral grounds” although it’s not known if she’d read or merely been told about his works discussing sado-masochism and lesbian longings.  Swinburne was of a figure of the post-Romantic disillusionment and a part of the sceptical tradition that would emerge in the nineteenth century to grow to a critical mass in the twentieth; even if not familiar with his most “disturbing” verse, Hymn to Proserpine, an address to Proserpina (in Rome, the goddess of the Underworld), lamenting that the rise of Christianity had displaced the pagan goddess and her pantheon, would alone have been enough to incur royal disapprobation.

Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean; the world has
   grown grey from Thy breath;
We have drunken of things Lethean, and fed on the
   fullness of death.
Laurel is green for a season, and love is sweet for a day;
But love grows bitter with treason, and laurel outlives
   not May.

The meaning is that both romantic love and artistic fame are fleeting, fragile, and bound to fade, the work a pagan perspective rejecting the idea of eternal life or permanent earthly glory.  In saying “Laurel is green for a season”, the leaves exist in their traditional symbolic role celebrating poetic glory, victory and cultural achievement but as “Love is sweet for a day”, while human affection can briefly be thrillingly intense, notoriously is it brief and transitory.  Just as “love grows bitter with treason” with relationships easily and often turned toxic by a betrayal or shift in faith, the “laurel outlives not May” and like spring flowers, fame dies quickly when the cultural season shifts and fashions change.  Nothing lasts forever and even the highest artistic achievements will one day dissolve into nothingness: Man can write his will across the heavens but those stars will soon dim and fall.  Swinburne found comfort not in an afterlife, but in the total, final darkness granted by Proserpine, the goddess of death.  Charmingly, Christians and pagans alike would both concur with the scriptural “Vanity, vanity, vanity of vanity of vanities, all is vanity” (Ecclesiastes 1:2) although each would draw different conclusions, the former in eternal life, the latter in peaceful oblivion.  As a footnote, Hymn to Proserpine includes cross-rhyme (known also as an interlaced rhyme) a device occurring in long couplets, the device operating on words in the middle of each line (here “season” and “treason”).