Ultimatum

Ultimatum (pronounced uhl-tuh-mey-tuhm or uhl-tuh-mah-tuhm)

(1) A final, uncompromising demand or set of terms issued by a party to a dispute (used especially of governments and WAGs (wives & girlfriends)), the rejection of which may lead to a severance of relations, the imposition of sanctions, the use of force etc.

(2) A final proposal or statement of conditions; any final or peremptory demand, offer or proposal.

1731: From the New Latin, a specialized use of the Medieval Latin ultimatum (a final statement), noun use of neuter of Latin adjective ultimātus (last possible, final; ended, finished), past participle of ultimāre (to come to an end), from ultimus (extreme, last, furthest, farthest, final).  The Latin plural ultimata was used by the Romans as a noun in the sense of “what is farthest or most remote; the last, the end”.  In mid-1920s slang ultimatum described also “the buttocks” (a use which deserves to be revived).  In English, the plural form had an interesting trajectory.  Although the Anglo-Irish satirist & Anglican cleric Jonathan Swift (1667–1745) used “ultimatums”, that didn’t until the twentieth century convince the OED (Oxford English Dictionary) to displace ultimata as the recommended form.  In diplomacy (a world of “gray areas”), the comparative is “more ultimative”, the superlative “most ultimative”.  Ultimatum is a noun, ultimating & ultimated are verbs and ultimative is an adjective; the noun plural is ultimatums or ultimata. 

The first ultimatum would have been issued in prehistoric times and there have been many since.  History suggests a great many have been bluffs which can be a successful tactic if perceived as plausible but often the “bluff was called” and the ultimatum proved a hollow threat, thus the language of diplomacy including also the (sometimes darkly) satirical or humorous (1) penultimatum (plural penultimatums or penultimata) which describes a statement of terms or conditions made by one party to another, commonly expressed as an ultimatum in the hopes of compelling immediate compliance with demands, but that then is superseded by more negotiation instead of actual dire consequences and (2) antepenultimatum (plural antepenultimatums or antepenultimata) which describes a statement of terms or conditions made by one party to another, essentially a penultimatum, but even more tentative and more repeatedly abandoned in favour of subsequent ignominious compromises.  The trouble with unfulfilled ultimatums is that while rapidly they can lose their persuasive power (in a manner analogous with Aesop's Fable The boy who cried wolf), at some point a party issuing unenforced ultimatums may one day make good on their threats, the high stakes gambler Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) and the rather dim-witted Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945) both in September 1939 genuinely surprised when the Anglo-French ultimatum guaranteeing the sovereignty of Poland was honoured, the previous back-downs no longer a guide.  Of course, six year later, Polish sovereignty was sacrificed to political necessity but a war which began with the RAF (Royal Air Force dropping leaflets politely asking the Germans to stop what they were doing and ended with the USAAF (US Army Air Force) dropping A-bombs of Japanese cities had many unintended consequences.

CD cover art for Lindsay Lohan's Spirit in the Dark (2008) album.

For centuries, the word “ultimatum” seems to have been avoided by poets, librettists and lyricists.  Ultimatum is a Latinate “formal” word so perhaps not well-suited to love songs but beyond the register and tone, those studying structural linguistics note the prosody: It’s a four-syllable word with a stress pattern (ul-TIM-a-tum) difficult to “fit into” common meters and melodic phrasing.  That said, while there’s a semantic narrowness, the idea of the ultimatum (a final demand backed by consequences) is hardly rare in opera and poetry but it tends to be described or implied rather than labelled with the specific word.  However, one niche was found in the definitely modern genre of rap, hip-hop and such and that’s attributed to the material putting a premium on conflict, violence and the technique of rhyming on the final syllable.  Undaunted however was Kara DioGuardi (b 1970) who included “ultimatum” in the opening verse of the Lindsay Lohan song Stay (2008).  Its inclusion is a genuine rarity.

Verse 1 of Stay (2008) Kara DioGuardi, sung by by Lindsay Lohan.

Baby, take your coat off and your shoes and just relax
Let your body sink into these arms, that's where it's at
I'll open up a bottle and slip into something else
I hope tonight's the night that all these walls are gonna melt
'Cause when we're out, you're sending me mixed signals all the time
You want me, but you don't just wanna lay it on the line
So baby, here's your ultimatum, are you in or out?
All you have to do is wanna turn this all around, and...

If it was for poets a challenge to splice “ultimatum” into the body of a work, without any discordance it could be used as a title and Philip Larkin (1922-1985) choose it for his first published poem which appeared in The Listener on 28 November, 1940:

Ultimatum (1940) by Philip Larkin.

But we must build our walls, for what we are
Necessitates it, and we must construct
The ship to navigate behind them, there.
Hopeless to ignore, helpless instruct
For any term of time beyond the years
That warn us of the need for emigration:
Exploded the ancient saying: Life is yours.
For on our island is no railway station,
There are no tickets for the Vale of Peace,
No docks where trading ships and seagulls pass.
Remember stories you read when a boy
- The shipwrecked sailor gaining safety by
His knife, treetrunk, and lianas - for now
You must escape, or perish saying no.

Unknown previously, “ultimatum” did occasionally appear in twentieth century poetry, a product probably of the big, multi-theatre wars and the use in modern and experimental poetry of language which borrowed from abstract or formal vocabularies.  While the terrible first half of the twentieth century gave poets plenty of scope to explore the concept (it was an age of ultimatums), in print, it was done almost without mention of the word.

The issuing of ultimatums has shaped a number of turning points in history; variously they have proved decisive, stabilizing or catastrophic.  Probably the most infamous was the “July Ultimatum”, served on Serbia by Austria-Hungary after a Serbian nationalist assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdinand (1863–1914; heir presumptive to the throne of the Austro-Hungarian Empire).  While such a procedure was orthodox politics, what was notable about what Vienna did in 1914 was to make demands it was certain Serbia would be unable to fulfil.  The Austrians hankered for war because they wanted permanently to put an end the “Serbian threat” and Berlin, anticipating a traditional, short, sharp, limited war of a few weeks, gave Vienna the infamous “German blank cheque” of support.  Belgrade accordingly turned to its traditional supporters in Moscow who agreed to offer military support; that came after the Kremlin had received confirmation from Paris that France would honor its treaty arrangement with Russia.  From all this came the outbreak of war in August 1914 by which time the British (for a variety of reasons) had become involved and by 1917 the US had become a belligerent; this was conflict which came to be called “The World War” before in the 1940s being renamed “World War I” (1914-1918).

Even in 1945, the phrase “unconditional surrender” (the origin an apparently chance remark (although subsequently he would cite a precedent from the US Civil War (1861-1865)) by Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, POTUS 1933-1945) at the Casablanca Conference (January 1943)) had been controversial because of the concern it had lengthened the war against Germany by dissuading (the probably chimerical) opposition forces within the country from staging a coup with a view to negotiating peace.  Despite that, at the Potsdam Conference (July-August 1945) the Allied powers (China, the UK & US, the Soviet Union not then at war with Japan) served Tokyo with the Potsdam Declaration demanding exactly that.  After the two A-bombs were dropped, the Japanese agreed to a surrender that fell a little short of being “unconditional” but the Americans decided to accept the offer, concluding having a “puppet emperor”.

Trump: The Art of the Deal (First Edition, 1987) by Donald J. Trump with Tony Schwartz.

One once improbable text in 2016 added to the reading lists of political analysts was Trump: The Art of the Deal (1987) by Donald J. Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) with Tony Schwartz (b 1952).  It’s a useful book because in it Mr Trump (or Mr Schwartz depending on one’s spin of choice) provided examples of negotiating techniques.  That book was about commerce, notably property deals, but it gave an insight into why Mr Trump later succeeded so well in reality TV, his understanding of the potency of mixing fact, threats, spectacle and blatant untruths underlining that second career.  He may not, while the book was being drafted, have been contemplating politics as a third career but he did find many of its techniques could be adapted to international diplomacy.  In that he proved an innovator but there are limitations to how well things translate.  One weapon in the arsenal is the ultimatum which can be used in real-estate deals with few consequences beyond the relatively few individuals concerned but in international relations, such things can have cascading global effects.

If within the White House there were any doubts the issuing of ultimatums might have consequences other than what was desired, the path of the conflict in the Middle East should have given them some interesting case studies.  What’s also interesting is whether in the White House the possible reactions to ultimatums were discussed prior to them being presented.  Giving the Ayatollahs 48 hours to reopen the Strait of Hormuz or face withering new airstrikes on Iran’s power generation infrastructure sounded decisive on Truth Social (which definitely is part of the modern calculation in such matters) but Tehran responded by threatening to target the energy and water desalination facilities in the neighboring Gulf states.  As threats go, it was a stark warning because those nations can rely on desalinated water for as much as 90% of their needs and have no practical alternative so it would have been an escalation with potentially devastating regional consequences.

Not a model easily translatable to Iran.  Nicolás Maduro (b 1962; President of Venezuela 2013-2026, right) and his lawyer Barry Pollack (b 1964, left), US Federal Court, Manhattan, New York City, March 2026, illustration by Jane Rosenberg (b 1949).

Accordingly, prior to the deadline, Mr Trump announced he’d “temporarily” called of the strikes, claiming that was induced not by Tehran’s counter-threat but by “productive” talks with “the right people”.  He didn’t descent to specifics (something not unusual in back channel diplomacy) but did add the talks had revealed “major points of agreement” and “they want very much to make a deal, we'd like to make a deal, too.”  Apparently unimpressed, Iranian state media, claimed the president had backed down in the face of their threats and denied talks of any significance were taking place.  Again, in diplomacy of this kind, denials are standard procedure.  A few hours later, Mr Trump assured an audience the US was conducting “very, very good discussions” with Iran.  So it’s competing narratives and analysts made no attempt to try to work out how much truthfulness was coming from either side but more than one observed that if the president had realized he’d painted himself into a corner by delivering the ultimatum, revealing previously unannounced back-channel discussions was a quick and face-saving way to buy some time to hope plan A (missiles and bombs) works.  There was though from some sources the notion the mention of “the right people” may put in the mind of the regime the audacious kidnapping of Nicolás Maduro (b 1962; President of Venezuela 2013-2026), an operation made possible by the cooperation of “the right people” in Caracas.  Some suspicion of one’s colleagues might be understandable given the extraordinary success achieved in assassinating leading figures in the Iranian political establishment and the IRGC (Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps).

While it can be guaranteed US-Iran “talks” are taking place in some form, trying to predict the course of this conflict is difficult because there are relatively few models from the past which might provide something of indicative value.  Since the end of the Cold War, one endlessly repeated admonition issued by those in the Middle East to successive occupants of the White House has been not to do this or that because “you will open the gates of Hell”.  Many probably suspect that at some point in that last few years, those gates were at least pushed ajar but if things do escalate they could be torn from their hinges and the most worrying scenario is that US land forces will be deployed against Iran with the active cooperation of the Gulf States, something unthinkable as recently as a few weeks ago.  The theory supporting this is based on the notion that the attacks on Iran conducted over the past year have made irrevocable the Ayatollah’s determination to acquire an IND (independent nuclear deterrent), a quite rational response by any regime reviewing military matters since 1945.  Of course, ayatollahs with A-bombs would trigger a chain reaction because a number of states in the region would also demand their own IND with a genuinely autonomous launch capacity because, just as Charles de Gaulle (1890-1970; President of France 1959-1969) felt compelled to acquire the capacity because he doubted “a US president would risk New York to save Paris” the same concerns would extend to the fate of Dubai and Riyadh.

The power behind the curtain: Ayatollah Mojtaba Khamenei (b 1969; Supreme Leader, Islamic Republic of Iran since 2026, left) looking at his father Grand Ayatollah Ali Khamenei (1939-2026; Supreme Leader, Islamic Republic of Iran 1989-2026).  Mojtaba Khamenei’s nickname is reputed to be “The power behind the robes”, an allusion to the power he exercised while his father was supreme leader (something like the role fulfilled by Lieutenant General Oskar von Hindenburg (1883–1960) while serving as ADC (aide-de-camp) Field Marshal Paul von Hindenburg (1847–1934; President of Germany 1925-1934).

What Mr Trump has done is to abandon the “power realist” approach to dealing with the Islamic Republic.  As explained by its high priest (Dr Henry Kissinger (1923-2023; US national security advisor 1969-1975 & secretary of state 1973-1977)), the approach was an acknowledgment that “solving” some problems was either impossible or so dangerous to attempt that the preferred approach was endlessly to “manage” things, thereby either maintaining the problem at an acceptable level or allowing it, over time, to “solve itself”.  Mr Trump probably genuinely believes there is not a problem on the planet he can’t solve by “making a deal”, achieved by a combination of threats, inducements, spectacle and ultimatums.  In some fields, such optimism is a virtue but when dealing with Ayatollahs with a nuclear weapons programme and the dream of a global caliphate under their interpretation of Shi'i Islam, it’s at least potentially dangerous.  One can argue about whether the ayatollahs had, prior to the last two rounds of attack, already decided to develop a deliverable nuclear weapon but now there can be no doubt.  No US president before Mr Trump would have dared do what’s been done in the last twelve months but now he’s in the position of not daring to stop because nothing short of regime change can now make things better; all alternatives are worse.  On paper, given the regime’s internal contradictions and the widespread dissatisfaction among the population, there should be paths to regime change without a land invasion but the Ayatollahs and IRGC appear still to possess a formidable defensive apparatus.  As the missile exchanges continue, Mr Trump has announced a ten-day extension to the deadline to re-open the Strait of Hormuz.  Whether this will come to be regarded as ultimatum 1.1 or 2.0 will be one of the footnotes when the histories of this conflict are written.

Bespoke

Bespoke (pronounced bih-spohk)

(1) A simple past tense and past participle of bespeak.

(2) Of clothes, those made to individual order and custom custom-made.

(3) The making or selling such clothes.

(4) By extension, anything (physical or weightless) produced to a customer’s specifications, especially if a one-off creation.

(5) To ask for in advance; to reserve (obsolete).

(6) As bespeak & bespoken, betrothed or engaged to be married; spoken for (obsolete except in the literary novel).

1745–1755: The adjective was a coining in Modern English in the sense of “custom-made goods; made to order (as distinguished from ready-made; an item on the shelf of a shop)” from the late sixteenth century Middle English bespoken, the past-participle adjective from bespeak (in its sense of “arrange beforehand”), a prefixed variant of speak.  The verb bespeak was from the Middle English bispeken, from the Old English besprecan (speak about, speak against, complain), the construct being be- + sprecan (to speak).  A common Germanic compound (the cognates including the Old Saxon bisprecan, the Dutch bespreken, the Old High German bisprehhan and the German besprechen) originally meaning “to call out”, it evolved by the 1580s to enjoy a wide range of meaning in English, including “speak up”, “oppose”, “request”, “discuss”, “arrange” and “order (goods)”.  By virtue of the different application of the be- prefix, the connections between the various meanings of bespoke, bespeaking; bespeak etc are thought at least very loose and it’s clear some arose independently of others.  Bespoke long was used usually of tailored suits and other clothing but in recent decades it has been applied (with some enthusiasm) to products as diverse as a one-off Rolls-Royce and customized hacking software offered on the dark web.  Bespeak was from the Middle English bespeken & bispeken, from the Old English bespecan & besprecan (to speak about, speak against, accuse of, claim at law, complain), from the Proto-Germanic bisprekaną (to discuss, blame), the construct being be- +‎ speak.  It was cognate with the Scots bespeke (to beseech, speak or negotiate with), the West Frisian besprekke (to discuss), the Dutch bespreken (to discuss, review; debate) and the German besprechen (to discuss, review, talk about).  Bespoke & bespoken are verbs & adjectives, bespeak is a noun & verb, bespeaking is a verb, bespeaker & bespokeness are nouns and bespokely is an adverb; the noun plural use is rare.

Wartime bespoke tailoring, Henry Poole & Co (1806), Savile Row, London, 1944.

The be- prefix was from the Middle English be- & bi-, from the Old English be-, from the Proto-Germanic bi- (be-), from the Proto-Germanic bi (near, by), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European hepi (at, near) and cognate with the Saterland Frisian, West Frisian, Dutch, German Low German, German and Swedish be-.  Although there remain in English many relics of its use, (becalmed, beseige etc), the be- prefix has long ceased to be productive.  It was used to modify other forms to create various meanings: (1) By, near, next to, around, close to (beset), (2) Around; about (belay, bestir, belive), (3) About, regarding, concerning, over (bemoan, bewail), (4) On, upon, at, to, in contact with something (behold, befall), (5) Off, away, over, across (behead, besleeve), (6) As an intensifier (ie thoroughly, excessively; completely; utterly) (belabour, bedazzle), (7) All around; about; abundantly; all over (belick, bescatter), (8) Forming verbs derived from nouns or adjectives, usually with the sense of "to make, become, or cause to be" (becalm, befriend) and (9) Used to intensify adjectives meaning "adorned with something", often those with the suffix -ed (now mostly archaic or informal) (besequined, befeathered, beclawed, beloved).

Artist Louise Duggan (b 1974) delivers the bespoke "mixed-media work" Blue Lips, commissioned by Lindsay Lohan to hang in her Dubai villa, June 2023.

Bespoke is an uncontroversial word if applied in the way which for centuries mostly it was: clothing custom made for an individual, based on measurements taken prior to the tailor or seamstress cutting the fabric.  It was used also of the shoes made by cobblers, the gloves sewed by glove makers, the hats created by milliners and so on, all of whom had their own methods of maintaining their customer records, those dealing with body parts which usually didn’t much change able for decades to use the same dimensions; others had to re-measure with some frequency.  In the case of cobblers, for regular customers they would keep a pair of wooden lasts which emulated exactly the shape of the feet.  The synonyms for bespoke in this context included “custom-made”, “customized”, “purpose-built”, “tailored” & “tailor-made” and the traditional antonyms were “off the peg”, “off the rack” & “off the shelf”.  In recent years, “bespoke” has become a marketing term and stuff which is far from unique and in many cases produced in great volume (perhaps with some minor change) is now often labeled “bespoke” and “bespoke solution” is a favorite in the software business, whether it be something to manage a hairdressing salon or code on the dark web supplied by Russian hackers to certain branches of the DPRK (Democratic People's Republic of Korea (North Korea) military to facilitate theft or covert operations.

Google ngram (a quantitative and not qualitative measure): Because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.  What the trend lines indicate is bespoke came increasingly to be used in the late twentieth century and the rate of increase has shown no signs of subsiding.  That may to some extent be accounted for by Google’s methods or the publications over-represented in its catchment but, impressionistically, it seems plausible and in the US, scholars by the 1990s were noting the way bespoke was tending to supplant the traditional American “custom”, apparently because the word had appeal because it conveyed “wealth and prestige” whereas custom had been devalued by its association with things like hotted-up motor cycles.  If bespoke is uncontroversial when used of anything genuinely one-off, the appropriateness when used of anything else needs to be assessed on a case by case basis and because it’s so popular in the business of expensive cars, they provide a good case-studies.

The Maserati 5000 GT (1959-1966)

1959 Maserati 5000 GT (Shah of Iran) by Touring.

Before the ayatollahs ran Iran, it was ruled by the Shah (king) and he got a lot more fun out of life than his clerical successors, noted especially as a connoisseur and of fast, exotic and expensive cars, his collection including multiple models from Lamborghini, Mercedes-Benz, Rolls-Royce, Ferrari and Maserati among others.  In 1958 he’d driven Maserati’s then popular 3500 GT but thought it lacking in power and, because hundreds a year were sold to the (rich) public, it seemed "a bit common".  Accordingly, after receiving material advertising both the 3500 GT and the remaining 450S race cars the factory wished to dispose of after withdrawing from racing, the shah decided he wanted a combination of the two: race engine in road car.  To have it created, essentially he sent Maserati a blank cheque and asked them to call when it was ready.  Delivered to the shah (Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, 1919-1980) in 1959, it was almost a secret but when a second, commissioned by a South African customer,  was displayed at the 1959 Turin Motor show, it generated such interest that Maserati soon were fielding enquiries from rich commoners wanting what royalty had.  Priced stratospherically however, there weren’t enough rich folk on the planet to make it a viable option for their production lines so it entered the catalogue as a bespoke item, Maserati modifying the 3500 chassis which, frankly had been a bit over-taxed by the big V8 and tweaking the engine still further, slightly increasing the capacity but in a way that rendered it more docile, yet still a howler when stirred.  The chassis appeared in the list and buyers could choose their own coachbuilder and eventually eight produced their own interpretations, the most numerous being by Carrozzeria Allemano which, over the years, finished twenty-two.

1959 Maserati 5000 GT by Allemano.

So the conclusion must be that the Shah’s original was and remains a true bespoke creation because exclusively it was built for him.  Of the other 33 5000 GTs built, although they were all variations on the theme and mechanically similar, no two were exactly alike and each was built in response to an order from an individual customer, some of whom specified certain touches.  Given that, all probably deserve to be regarded as bespoke though pedants might insist the chassis was a regular production item and only the coachwork was truly bespoke.  Few seem to agree and on the rare occasions the things are offered for sale, they’re almost always described as “bespoke”.

The Rolls-Royce Phantom IV (1950-1956)

1950 Rolls-Royce Phantom IV pick-up truck.  "Luxury" pick-up trucks have been produced in volume since the 1970s and the first existed in the pre-war years but the Phantom IV was the most exclusive of them all.

Among collectors, the Phantom IV has quite an allure because it was one of the few cars produced in any number never offered for sale to the general public, only 18 produced and available only to heads of state or crowned royalty (a distinction important in royal circles which has its own pecking order).  In a manner similar to the Maserati 5000 GT, no two Phantom IVs were exactly the same although all were built on substantially the same underpinnings (the only Rolls-Royce passenger cars ever to use a straight-8).  Thus all should be thought “bespoke” in the context of the industry but there was one version which radically was different, a Phantom IV pick-up truck (a style in some places called a "ute", a back-formation from "utility" which in linguistics is described as a "complex clipping" or "elliptical abbreviation" although the punchier "short for" is the more common use) which was used by the factory to ferry bits & pieces from place to place.  So it’s a genuine one off pick-up truck but because it was just a functional workhorse which existed only because an unsalable prototype chassis was available, it’s never been regarded as something bespoke, the long ago scrapped “shop ute” just a historic curiosity.  The other 17 Phantom IVs used the body-styles more expected of the Phantom lineage (limousines, cabriolets and landaulets) and three were built for Generalissimo Francisco Franco (1892-1975; Caudillo of Spain 1939-1975) but even in the less litigious 1950s there was a awareness words needed carefully to be chosen.  When ordering one of the two built as formal limousines (in five and seven-seat configurations), the Spanish embassy in London specified "bullet-proof bodywork" but the coach-builder (H. J. Mulliner), aware there were now some very big bullets, replied what they could do was fit "armoured panels" but a guarantee of "bullet proof" wasn't possible.  A practical military man, the Generalissimo must have accepted that because all were built and remain in the possession of the Spanish Army, still sometimes use for state occasions.    

The Rolls-Royce Phantom V (1959-1968) & Phantom VI (1968-1990)

1973 Rolls-Royce Phantom VI "All Weather Cabriolet" (four-door convertible) by Fura (right) and 1971 Rolls-Royce Phantom VI DHC by Fura (left). 

By comparison with the exclusive Phantom IV, its two successors were almost mass-produced, 1206 (832 of the Phantom V & 374 of the VI respectively) crafted over three decades.  In this case, it’s thought only some should be thought truly bespoke because although there were a few variations in the coachwork, many were substantially the same and its only the ones with the greatest differences (notably the odd sedanca de ville, the handful of landaulets or the other “state” cars with their elevated rooflines) which are usually thought “bespoke” and even they weren’t unique things like the Phantom IVs.  Two of the bodies on the Phantom VI chassis however indisputably were bespoke.  By the 1970s, it was only the big Phantom VI which Rolls-Royce still built on the separate chassis which made bespoke bodies easier to mount so anyone wanting a really exclusive Rolls-Royce had no other choice.  Accordingly the Italian house Fura fashioned two very big bespoke creations, one a DHC (drophead coupé, which by then the rest of the world was calling a cabriolet or convertible), the other described as an "all weather cabriolet" (which eventually was re-fashioned as a four-door convertible).  Both were on a scale not seen since seen since the 1930s and nothing like them has since been attempted.  Because the limousine chassis was designed for something long, narrow and tall, both the Fura cars were fundamentally ill-proportioned although skilled photographers have managed to create pleasing images by selecting just the right angle.  Flawed though they were, at the time there was probably nothing on four wheels which so conveyed disposable wealth which, in many cases, is of course often the essence of the bespoke.  It was a good thing they made such an impression because presumably it dissuaded people from looking too closely: underneath the engineering was pure Phantom VI which meant drum brakes and a rear axle suspended on semi-elliptic (cart) springs so it was (refined) Ford Model T (1908) technology under all that leather and burl walnut veneer.  Such was the attention to detail those cart spring were encased in Wefco leather gaiters so those enjoying the seclusion of the rear compartment (trimmed usually in West of England cloth rather than the leather on which the chauffeur sat) weren't disturbed by any tiresome squeaks.   

1956 Mercedes-Benz 300c (W186 "Adenauer") Estate Car by Binz.

Consumption can be conspicuous yet still subtle, achieved usually if a bespoke creation is both expensive and functional.  The Mercedes-Benz 300 saloons and four-door cabriolet of (W186 & W189 1951-1962) were large, stately and beautifully built and the platform attracted coachbuilders who saw the potential for estate cars (station wagons), ambulances and (especially) hearses.  Many were built and the hearses in particular typically aren't regarded as bespoke because they were essentially catalogue items with little variation between editions.  Some of the rare estates ("shooting brakes" to the English, "station wagons" in North America and for a time, "station sedans" if built by Holden, General Motors' (GM) Australian outpost) however have always been treated as bespoke even though from an engineering point of view the changes were minimal and the styling hardly imaginative.  The reason for the association seems to be that they “dripped money”; even to the uninformed they were obviously expensive so it seems possible there is the matter of "bespoke by acclamation".  Interestingly, in 1960 the factory did their own one-off 300 Estate, this one a “telemetry car” built in the era before sensors to travel at high speed on a test track, recording data from the vehicle ahead, the two tethered with long cables.  Styled in an almost avant-garde manner with rear glass which curved into the roof, the factory regarded it rather as Rolls-Royce treated their pick-up: a mule to be used until something better came along.  They never called it bespoke.

1965 Aston Martin DB5 Shooting Brake.

Sir David Brown (1904–1993) liked his DB5 coupé (which the factory in their English way called a "saloon") but found it too cramped comfortably to accommodate his polo gear, shotguns and hunting dogs.  Now, that would be called a “first world problem” but because Brown then owned Aston Martin, he simply wrote out a work order and had his craftsmen create a bespoke shooting brake (an English term best understood as “station wagon owned by someone rich”) which they did by hand-forming the aluminum with hammers over wooden formers.  It delighted him and solved his problem but created another because good customers stared writing him letters asking for their own.  Unfortunately, Aston Martin was at full capacity building DB5s and developing the up-coming DB6 and V8 models.  With a bulging order book, the resources didn’t exist to add a niche model so the project was out-sourced to the coachbuilder Radford which built a further 11 (and subsequently another 6 based on the DB6).  That Brown’s original car was bespoke seems clear but the others might be a gray area because the coachbuilder’s records and assessments of the cars indicate they were identical in all but the color of the paint and leather trim.  There may have been only 12 DB5s and 6 DB6s but by conventional definition, they came of a production line, albeit a leisurely and exclusive one so can all but the original be thought truly bespoke?  According to the Aston Martin website, they are bespoke so that’s presumably the last word on the subject.

There is even bespoke Nutella.  In 2014, while appearing on-stage in a London production of David Mamet's (b 1947) Speed-the Plow (1988), Lindsay Lohan stayed at the Mandarin Oriental hotel which supplied her with a personalized jar of the nutty treat, complete with bespoke label.

At its messy margins, English often troubles the purists but it’s a democratic language and meanings do evolve through popular use.  That can mean a meaning shift as has happened to “decimate” (originally “reduce by 10%”; probably now understood as “reduce to 10%”) or alternative meanings can emerge and run in parallel.  In tailoring, “bespoke” is used still in its original sense but with cars it seems now industry shorthand for “one-off or short-run variants” of existing models.  In the matter of the DB5 Shooting Brakes, the rear coachwork for Sir David’s original genuinely was “bespoke” and what Radford did was eleven exact replications but, by even Aston Martin’s then standards, a dozen-odd is a small number with enough of a hint of “exclusivity” for the label to seem appropriate.  That of course does beg the question: At what point does a design cease reasonably to be called “bespoke” if identical copies are being produced?  Empirically, the number must be “greater than eleven” but it probably can’t be defined except by suggesting it’s the point at which production can be said to have happened in “a series” and that should be well-short of three figures.  Of cars, “bespoke” now probably is over-used but its new career seems here to stay.

The Smart Fortwo (top left) and some bespoke imaginings channeling (clockwise) DMC DeLorean (in filmic incarnation), Chevrolet Corvette, Lotus Esprint, Porsche 911, Bugatti Veyron, Lamborghini Countach and Jaguar E-Type (XKE) .

Some year ago, even before mass-market generative AI made such sights routine, the happy combination of the internet, Photoshop and a large cohort of gullible viewers encouraged the creation of a meme purporting to be a survey of the bespoke carbon fibre bodies available to be bolted to the diminutive Smart Fortwo (C451; 2007-2015).  Even a cursory look at the scale of the humans included in some of the photos should have been enough for people to work out this was fake news but the "factory" is said to have received “some” enquiries asking where the bespoke bodies could be bought.

Absinthe or Absinth

Absinthe or Absinth (pronounced ab-sinth)

(1) A green, aromatic liqueur (alcohol content 45-74%), made with wormwood and other herbs; it has a bitter, liquorice flavour and has from time-to-time been banned in many Western countries.  Technically, because of the high wormwood content, it’s a gin.  The colloquial name was "green fairy".

(2) An alternative name for the herb Artemisia absinthium (grande wormwood); essence of wormwood which correctly should be spelled only absinth).

(3) Bitterness; sorrow (archaic except as a literary or poetic device).

(4) As colors, labeled on color charts as “absinthe green” or “absinthe yellow”, shades on a spectrum from dark to bright.  For commercial purposes , it's sometimes clipped to “absinthe” and the choice between the general descriptors “greenish-yellow” & “yellowish-green” depend on which hue is thought prevalent.

(5) A rare alternative name for the sagebrush (US).

1350-1470: From the French absinthe (essence of wormwood (short for extrait d'absinthe)), from the Latin absinthium (wormwood and a doublet of absinthium), from the Ancient Greek ἀψίνθιον (apsínthion) (wormwood) of uncertain origin although its speculated the source may be a Persian root (spand or aspand, or the variant esfand) which meant Peganum harmala, also called Syrian Rue which, while not actually a variety of rue, is another famously bitter herb.  The alternative etymology is that the genus was named after Queen Artemisia, the wife and sister of Mausolus, ruler of Caria 377–353.  When Mausolus died, he was buried in the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world, and traces of the ruins can still be seen at Bodrum in modern-day Türkiye Cumhuriyeti (Republic of Türkiye).  In the Hellenic myths, Ἄρτεμις (Artemis) was  goddess of the hunt, and protector of the forest and children; her equivalent in Roman mythology was Diana.  Absinthe & absinthism are nouns and absinthic is an adjective; the noun plural is absinthes.

Just add water: An absinthe drinker's table with paraphernalia.

The highly alcoholic, anise-flavored liquor originally made from grande wormwood, anise, and other herbs was first distilled in 1842, lending its name to the yellow-green color which became commercially available in the late 1800s.  The early spelling was absinth (which survived longer than absynthe and absenta) and although extinct in English use, absinth remains the spelling variant most commonly applied to varieties of the spirit produced in Central and Eastern Europe; specifically it's associated with Bohemian-style absinthes.  The wormwood (Artemisia absinthium) plant itself has long been figurative of "bitter" sorrow and was known in English as absinth in English from circa 1500; the earlier tradition, drawn from the Old English, used the word in the Latin form.  The drink first gained popularity in Europe after being consumed in some abundance by French soldiers in Algiers and North Africa appears to have been a place with a long fascination with similar drinks, historians noting an association with “magical properties” as far back as ancient Egypt.

Some bottles are sold bundled with a drip spoon and sometimes glasses.  No retailer seems to include sugar cubes.

Before being outlawed in many Western countries in the early twentieth century, it was known colloquially as the green fairy, a “green muse” who would visit to liberate the visions of poets and artists.  The health authorities fretted over the alleged hallucinogenic qualities and, after the usual moral panic, imposed a ban.  Historians of such things suspect the spirit probably didn't induce hallucinations to anywhere near the extent of the legends of the era suggest and that its reputation was probably gained from excessive consumption of mixes with unusually high concentrations of wormwood being sold, the regulation of the content of strong drink paying little attention to anything except the taxable component (alcohol).  However, absinthe (in a strictly regulated form) is again available in Australia and La Fee Absinthe NV Absinthe (700 ml) is available from Cool Wine at Aus$83.95.

Death in the afternoon

Death in the Afternoon, also called The Hemingway or Hemingway Champagne, is a mix of absinthe and Champagne, invented by Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961) himself.  The concoction shares its name with a novel from what Zelda Fitzgerald (née Sayre; 1900–1948) called his “bullfighting, bull-slinging, & bullshit” period (Death in the Afternoon (1932)), the recipe published in a 1935 anthology of cocktails with contributions from noted authors. 

(1) Pour one jigger of absinthe into a Champagne glass.

(2) Add iced Champagne until it attains the proper opalescent milkiness.

(3) Drink three to five of these, slowly.

Traditional French Method

(1) Pour a shot (1oz/30ml) of absinthe into a tall, wide rimmed glass.

(2) Rest specially slotted absinthe spoon across top of the glass.

(3) Place a sugar cube atop absinthe spoon.

(4) Slowly drizzle ice-cold water over sugar cube so water is evenly displaced into absinthe until drink is diluted to a ratio between 3:1 and 5:1.

(5) Stir gently and enjoy.

Bohemian Method

(1) Pour a shot (1oz/30ml) of absinthe into a tall, wide rimmed glass.

(2) Put lump of sugar on a spoon and dip it in the absinthe until cube is saturated.

(3) Hold spoon over glass and set the cube alight; it will bubble and caramelize.

(4) When flame has died down, stir sugar into absinthe.

(5) Add iced-water until drink is diluted to a ratio between 3:1 and 5:1.

(6) Stir gently and enjoy.

French purists disapprove of these Bohemian ways, claiming the caramelizing of the sugar impairs the true flavor of absinthe.

Ernest Hemingway wasn’t the only one fond of the green fairy.  Oscar Wilde (1854–1900) is claimed to have said “After the first glass of absinthe you see things as you wish they were. After the second you see them as they are not. Finally you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible thing in the world.”  He applied his empirical research into the spirit’s psychoactive and degenerative properties in The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890-1891) in which the eponymous protagonist takes those staples of decadent Victorian hedonism, opium and absinthe, in seedy places among London's Docklands.

The French poet Paul Verlaine (1844–1896) infamously was fond of absinthe, his lust for the spirit shared with his lover and fellow poet Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891), the pair having a drunken tiff during which Rimbaud was shot, sustaining a minor wound.  After that, Verlaine’s alcoholism worsened and he died in poverty, on his deathbed damning as “the green witch” which governments should ban.  Rimbaud may have been more open-minded, one of his works containing the line: “Wise pilgrims, let us reach / The Absinthe with its green pillars.”  Shortly after being shot, he renounced poetry, briefly serving in the military before deserting to take up a life in commerce.

Kidspattern's deconstruction of Absinthe Green (upper) and Absinthe Yellow (lower).  Curiously (to non-expert eyes), both are listed as a “green”, reflecting the mysterious chemistry used to produce results, the recipes sometimes seemingly counterintuitive.

When water has been added to a glass of absinthe, it’s said to have “been louched”.  Although more familiar as a noun meaning “a somewhat dubious or disreputable person or thing or an adjective used to impart a sense of (1) “questionable taste or morality; the decadent” (2) “neither reputable or decent” or (3) “one unconventional and slightly disreputable in an attractive manner; raffish, rakish” there’s was also the use as a transitive verb meaning “to make an alcoholic beverage cloudy by mixing it with water (due to the presence of anethole)”. Most associated with the louche crowd who drank the green fairy, among chemists and in the industry, louching was known as “the ouzo effect”.  Louche was from the French louche (cross-eyed (now archaic); cloudy; obscure (by extension) and (figuratively) shady; dubious; seedy; shifty), from the Old French lousche, from the Latin lusca, feminine of luscus (one-eyed) and existed in the Italian (of character) as losco and the Portuguese (of vision) as lusco.

Le Buveur d'absinthe (The Absinthe Drinker (1859)) by Édouard Manet (1832-1883).

The first major painting by the French painter Édouard Manet was Le Buveur d'absinthe, a study of an alcoholic rag-picker who frequented the area around the Louvre.  The work caused a stir in polite society because of its seedy realism and the concern at the time about the corrosive effects of absinthe among Parisian bohemians and although there’s nothing to prove Manet was even an occasional drinker of the stuff, he did among some gain the reputation on the basis of "guilt by association".  Very few in the art establishment liked the painting and even Manet would later admit the earliest version of the work contained technical flaws but it was the content which so offended and there was something of the "shock of the new" in that it was one of the first depictions of Absinth drinking in representational art.  Manet submitted Le Buveur d'absinthe for inclusion in the Paris Salon in 1859 and almost unanimously the selection committee voted "non".  The establishment may not have wanted moral  degeneracy hanging in their galleries but the avant garde wanted little else and Manet's painting was among the first admitted to the Salon des Refusés (literally "exhibition of rejects") in 1863.  

A Le Buveur d'absinthe (The Absinthe Drinker) (1901) by Pablo Picasso (1881-1973).

A Le Buveur d'absinthe would be also be painted by Pablo Picasso, competed in the autumn of 1901, just as his “blue period” was beginning.  Although nowhere near as monochromatic as later blue period works such as Femme aux Bras Croisés (Woman with Folded Arms (1901-1902)) or La Vie (Life (1903)), the work is an early example of the themes associated with this phase, melancholy, alienation & desolation.  The blue period began after Picasso became depressed over the suicide of a close friend and for some years he would explore aspects of human misery.  For someone who looks this unhappy absinthe might be a good choice but it didn't suit everyone.  The French symbolist writer Alfred Jarry (1873-1907) was renowned for his particularly erratic and eccentric behavior and often indulged in while drinking in Paris’s absinthe cafes; it’s said, with his face painted green, he once rode his bicycle through a village to celebrate the joy of the spirit.  He died of consumption, the severity of his condition aggravated by drug and alcohol use.

Absente Absinthe Refined.

Vincent Van Gogh (1853–1890) was known to drink absinthe, not anything unusual at the time and while he suffered from what would now be called “mental health issues” (then it was simply “went mad”), what part the drink played in his breakdown isn’t known although in letters to friends, he did note the effect it had on his work.  The mere connection however was enough for Crillon Importers to collaborate with Absente to produce the Van Gogh themed packaging for Absente Absinthe Refined when in 1999 it was the first brand to offer the green fairy in the US since the ban was imposed in 1912.  Absente made much of its spirit being “authentic” by which they meant it was distilled from wormwood and therefore contained thujone, the fabled and allegedly psychoactive substance naturally present in the herb and the reason for the original ban although cautiously, when permitting sales in 1999, the ATF (Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives) limited the thujone content to 10 milligrams per litre.

Lindsay Lohan in absinthe green, Pure Leaf Green Tea promotion, 2024.

Once one of France’s most famous poets and essayists, Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867) was probably no more fond of absinthe than any other strong drink but certainly didn’t avoid the green fairy, even writing the poem Enivrez-vous (Get drunk, first published in 1864) in which it's mentioned.  For years he drank heavily and used a variety of opioids before suffering a massive stroke in 1866, lingering in a semi-paralysis for almost a year before dropping dead.  In fashion, the term “absinthe green” was used opportunistically and was never exactly defined beyond it being associated usually with a vibrant hue.  The use began during the era in which the drink was in many places outlawed so attraction was it conveyed some sense of “edginess”.  Because the imagery of the “green fairy” and its alleged consequences became part of Western folklore, often it’s forgotten there was also “absinthe blanche” (Suisse absinthe, known also as “absinthe bleue”), which was colorless and in its time much sought for the high alcohol content.  Absinthe blanche was the product extracted before the final maceration process with a blend of herbs which lent the fluid its green hue and more complex taste.

Death in the evening.

Lindy Chamberlain (holding Azaria) and her sons Reagan (b 1976) & Aidan (b 1973), Stuart Highway, Northern Territory, Australia.  The 1977 Holden LX Torana SL Hatchback was finished in in Absinth Yellow (GMH code 1886 (Dulon code 15949 / Berger code 1D008)) over Slate Black Vinyl & Cloth trim (18X) and was fitted with the 4.2 litre (253 cubic inch) V8 (L32) & four-speed manual transmission (M20).  The photograph was taken opposite the Erldunda Roadhouse (gas (petrol) stations and the distance between them are of great importance in the Northern Territory) at the Lasseter Highway turn-off from the Stuart Highway.  Some 200 km (125 miles) from the desolate and depressing township of Alice Springs, from there it's a further 245 km (150 miles) to the Ayers Rock Resort which is the tourist hub for Uluru.  In the happy days before speed limits were in 2007 imposed (by a female chief minister for whom any desire to drive faster than 80 km/h (50 mph) must have been beyond comprehension), in the right car, it was an entertaining drive but with an absurdly low maximum of 130 km/h (80 mph) now set, flying is recommended.  

1:18 scale model of Holden HJ Monaro GTS Coupe in Absinth Yellow by Classic Carlectables (part number 18719).

As well as the Torana, Holden made Absinth Yellow available on other “sporty” models, notably the Monaro GTS, then available with two and four-door forms.  Introduced in 1974, the HJ range (1974-1976) featured a rather heavy-handed restyling which was disappointing after the elegance achieved by the HQ (1971-1974) but it reflected a desire to make the car appear bigger and “less feminine” (an intangible quality but one recognized by designers).  The frontal styling was a direct borrowing from the first generation Chevrolet Monte Carlo (1970-1972).

The Absinth Yellow LX Torana was made infamous because of the part it played in the 1982 conviction of Lindy Chamberlain (b 1948) for the murder in August 1980 of her nine-week old daughter Azaria.  The family had been camping close to Uluru (Ayers Rock) in Australia’s Northern Territory and, on the fateful evening, in an agitated state, Lindy Chamberlain claimed Azaria had been “taken by a dingo” (a kind of wild dog).  It was a remarkable case in which the prosecution succeeded in convincing the jury a mother had murdered her child despite there being no body, no murder weapon and no apparent motive.  The car was of great significance because of flawed evidence from a forensic scientist who claimed certain material found in the interior was the infant’s blood and it was only a subsequent analysis which confirmed the “blood spatter” was not foetal haemoglobin (something present in those under six months old) but overspray from the bitumen-based sound deadening paint then used by the manufacturer, spilled milkshake and copper dust.

The Absinth Yellow “Azaria Torana”, now on display at the National Museum of Australia in Canberra.

Convicted of being an accessory after the fact, Lindy’s husband, preacher Michael Chamberlain (1944–2017), was handed a suspended sentence but his wife received the mandatory life term and was imprisoned for more than three years, appeals as far as the HCA (High Court Of Australia) not overturning the verdicts, despite a dissent in the HCA hearing handed down by the only judge on the bench trained in science (Justice Lionel Murphy (1922–1986) who held a B.Sc (Hons) in organic chemistry) who found the Crown's scientific evidence flawed.  She was released only when the baby’s bloodied matinee jacket was found near a dingo’s den, prompting an inquest into the matter.  They were finally exonerated by the findings of a 1987 royal commission but the case remains of interest because it raised examples of flaws and inconstancies in matter of evidence and the administration of criminal law.  There was also much analysis of the media’s coverage, especially as it related to Lindy Chamberlain who was deemed by many commentators not to be “playing the part” expected of a distraught and grieving mother.  Not always with subtleness, aspersions were cast on the “religious fundamentalism” of the Seventh-day Adventist couple and, implications made, among the public, inferences were drawn with one event of note reported by the press.  When the murder verdict was announced on a television playing in a Darwin pub, there were shouts of “The dingo didn't do it!” and much cheering.