Cardigan

Cardigan (pronounced kahr-di-ghun)

(1) A usually collarless knitted sweater or jacket that opens down the front, usually with buttons (sometimes a zip); in some places also called a cardigan sweater or cardigan jacket.

(2) The larger variety of corgi, having a long tail.

1868: Adopted as the name for a close-fitting knitted woolen jacket or waistcoat, named after James Thomas Brudenell (1797-1868), seventh Earl of Cardigan, the English general who led the charge of the Light Brigade (1854) at Balaklava (Balaclava) during the Crimean War (1853-1856) although the fanciful account of him wearing such a garment during the charge is certainly apocryphal.  The place name Cardigan is an English variation of the Welsh Ceredigion, (literally “Ceredig's land”, named after an inhabitant of the fifth century).  Cardigans usually have buttons but zips are not unknown and there are modern (post-war) variations which have no buttons, hanging open by design and reaching sometimes to the knees.  These sometimes have a tie at the waist and the fashion industry usually lists them as robes but customers seem to continue to call them cardigans.  From its military origins, the term originally referred only to a knitted sleeveless vest, the use extending to more familiar garments only in the twentieth century.  Coco Chanel (1883-1971) popularized them for women, noting they could be worn, unlike a pullover, without messing the hair.  Cardigans were one of the first items to which Chanel added the influential weighted hems.  The most usual contraction is now cardi displacing the earlier cardie (cardy the rarely seen alternative). Cardigan is a noun and cardiganlike, cardiganless & cardiganed are adjectives; the noun plural is cardigans.

Lord Cardigan, engraved by D.J. Pound (1820-1894) from a photograph, published in The Drawing-Room of Eminent Personages, Volume 2 (London, 1860).  At the time, in the British Army, moustaches were then a thing which verged on the obligatory.

The cardigan claimed to have been modelled after the knitted wool waistcoat worn by British officers during the Crimean war but the origin of the design is contested, one story being it was an invention of Lord Cardigan, inspired by him noticing the tails of his coat had been accidentally burnt off in a fireplace although the more common version is it was simply a practical adaptation to keep soldiers warm in the depths of a Crimean winter.  So, although the fireplace story is romantic, it may be a military myth but may not be unique.  In the appendix of names to the Dairies of Evelyn Waugh (1903-1966) (edited by Michael Davie (1924-2005) and published in 1976), it was noted the solicitor Edmund Sidney Pollock “E.S.P.” Haynes (1877–1949) “died after his shirt-tails caught alight while he stood in front of his bedroom gas fire.”  Whether that was the immediate cause of death or simply a contributing factor isn’t clear because other sources record his cause of death as “pneumonia”, in those days known to doctors as the “old man’s friend” because “it carried them off so quickly”.  Haynes had acted for Waugh in the 1930 divorce from his first wife (Evelyn Gardner (1903–1994), one of the original “Bright Young Things” of fashionable London in the 1920s); the troubled, unsatisfactory marriage endured barely two years and its sundering saddened those in society who had enjoyed being able to refer to the couple as “He-Evelyn & She-Evelyn”.  As was his habit with those he knew, Waugh used She-Evelyn as the model for the adulteress Brenda Last in his novel A Handful of Dust (1934); after the divorce, they would never meet again.

In some circles, the cardigan in the twenty-first century gained a new lease on life because the style made it ideal for use in the “curtain reveal” manner.  Actress Katie Holmes (b 1978) demonstrates the motif wearing a two-piece ensemble (cardigan with bra in the same cashmere knit; the latest variant of the twin set idea) from Khaite.

Although he made his living as a solicitor, Haynes interests were wide and he was a prolific author (of law, women's suffrage philosophy, politics and more) and one of the eccentric figures who once made English literature an interesting place.  At the professional level, his greatest contribution to the law was the effect his work in reforming the country’s then onerous divorce laws ultimately would yield but his career ended badly, in 1948 struck off the Solicitors' Rolls for a failure “properly to maintain books of accounts”.  Acknowledged as possessing a brilliant mind, his lifestyle in middle age became careless and it’s said his lunch “rarely would finish before four” and he had the unusual habit of maintaining “…at the end of his table a store of bottles jars and tins containing garlic, biscuits, sauces etc.”  Again, Waugh’s journalistic eye took all this in and Haynes inspired the vivid descriptions of the eating practices of boot family at Boot Magna Hall in the novel Scoop (1938).  The long lunches took their toll and he was later compelled to wear a sort of corset to lift and hold in suspension his sagging belly, the weight supported by stout shoulder straps, the construction imagined conceptually as a “large, single cup bra”.  Whether the consequent lack of mobility had anything to do with his shirt tails catching fire seems not anywhere mentioned but such a physique would not have assisted a recovery from consumption (pneumonia).  

Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) in twinset cardigan, Los Angeles, January 2012.

Twinset is the term used when a cardigan is worn with a matching sleeveless or short-sleeved pullover sweater.  Historians note that although the twinset, attributed to both Coco Chanel and Elsa Schiaparelli (1890–1973), was a fashion innovation first seen during the 1920s, it didn’t achieve widespread popularity until the early post-war years.  The mildly disparaging term twinset and pearls references both the perceived social class and conservatism of those characterised as especially fond of the combination though it has been reclaimed and is now often worn without any sense of irony.  Fashion advisors note also that the classic mix of twinset and skirt can be leveraged with a simple multiplier effect: One set of the garments provides one outfit but if one buys two of each in suitability sympathetic colors, then six distinct combinations are produced while if another skirt and twinset is added, suddenly one's wardrobe contains eighteen outfits.  It's the joy of math.

Kendall Jenner (b 1995), Paris, March 2023.

Few motifs draw the fashionista's eye like asymmetry and in March 2023, model Kendall Jenner (b 1995) wore an all-gray ensemble which combined the functionality of a cardigan, dress, skirt & sweater.  Designed by Ann Demeulemeester (b 1959) and fashioned in a wool knit with a draped neckline and asymmetrical leg slit, it was worn with a pair of the Row’s Italian-made Lady Stretch Napa leather tall boots with relatively modest 2½” (65 mm) stiletto heels.  Despite the extent of the exposed skin, the cut means it possible still to wrap for warmth and, being a wool knit, it’s a remarkably practical garment.  Because of the relatively light construction, most would regard this still as a type of cardigan but, if made with heavier fabrics, something using the same concept would be classed a coatigan (a portmanteau word, the construct being coat +‎ (card)igan) which is a hybrid of a coat and a cardigan.  Predictably, there are definitional gray areas and, as a general principle, whatever term the manufacturer uses is accepted.

Heptadecaphobia

Heptadecaphobia (pronounced hepp-tah-dech-ah-foh-bee-uh)

Fear of the number 17.

1700s: The construct was the Ancient Greek δεκαεπτά (dekaepta) (seventeen) + φόβος (phobos).  The alternative form is septadecaphobia, troubling some the purists because they regard it as a Greek-Latin mongrel, the construct being the Latin septem (seven) + deca, from the Latin decas (ten), from the Ancient Greek δεκάς (dekás) (ten) + the Ancient Greek φόβος) (phobos) (fear).  Heptadecaphobia deconstructs as hepta- “seven” + deca (ten) + phobos.  The suffix -phobia (fear of a specific thing; hate, dislike, or repression of a specific thing) was from the New Latin, from the Classical Latin, from the Ancient Greek -φοβία (-phobía) and was used to form nouns meaning fear of a specific thing (the idea of a hatred came later).  Heptadecaphobia, heptadecaphobist, heptadecaphobism, heptadecaphobiac and heptadecaphobe are nouns, heptadecaphobic is a noun & adjective and heptadecaphobically is an adverb; the common (sic) noun plural is heptadecaphobes and they should number 59 million-odd (the population of Italy).

Morphologically, “heptadecaphilliac” is possible but is clumsy and unnecessary, the standard noun agent (-phile) rendering it redundant and although used, not all approve of the suffix -phobiac because it’s a later hybrid formation from modern English and thus judged “less elegant”.  The opposite condition (a great fondness for 17) is the noun heptadecaphilia, those with the condition being Heptadecaphiles, the derived words following the conventions used with heptadecaphobia.  Whether any of the derived forms have much (or ever) been used beyond lists asserting they exist (which, except as abstractions, may be dubious) is unlikely but concerned Italians should note the noun heptadecaphobist would seem to imply doctrinal adherence rather than suffering the fear.  Still, it’s there if the need exists for precision in one’s behavioural descriptors.  Modern English constructions (like heptadecaphobia) built from Greek morphemes are neo-classical” compounds rather than a “proper” words from the Ancient Greek and while some amuse or appal the classicists, in practice, variations in suffix-use have long be tolerated.

No fear of 17: Sydney Sweeney (b 1997) in photo-shoot for Frankies Bikini Collection, Seventeen magazine, March 2023.

In Classical Greek, the cardinal number 17 was ἑπτακαίδεκα (heptakaídeka; literally “seven-and-ten”) but the Ancients were as adept as us at clipping for convenience and the variant ἑπταδέκα (heptadéka; literally “seven-ten”) also exists in surviving texts.  The shorter element embedded in heptadecaphobia corresponds to heptadeca- (from ἑπταδέκα) and genuinely that is Classical Greek, although, on the basis of the count from what documents are extant, it was less common than ἑπτακαίδεκα. The latter-day hybridization was inevitable because, as far as in known, “seventeen” had not before been used as a combining stem in compounds.  In English, the convention in neoclassical formation tends the sequence: (1) take the cardinal form, (2) drop the inflection and (3) treat it as a stem, thus the construct heptadeca + phobia, familiar to structuralists in the more common triskaidekaphobia which uses the Greek tris-kai-deka (“three and ten”) despite in genuine Greek morphology, compounds being not usually directly from ἑπταδέκα as a bound stem.  It’s better to follow modern practice rather than try to conjure something “classically pure” because although one could argue heptakaidekaphobia (closer to ἑπτακαίδεκα) is a better tribute to Antiquity, as well as being historically unattested, it’s phonetically cumbersome which seems a worse linguistic sin.

Just because a “fear of a number” is listed somewhere as a “phobia” doesn’t mean the condition has much of a clinical history or even that a single case is to be found in the literature; many may have been coined just for linguistic fun and students in classics departments have been set assessment questions like “In Greek, construct the word meaning “fear of the number 71” (the correct answer being “hebdomekontahenophobia”).  Some are well documented such as tetraphobia (fear of 4) which is so prevalent in East Asia it compelled BMW to revise the release strategy of the “4 Series” cars and triskaidekaphobia (fear of 13) which has such a history in the West it’s common still for hotels not to have a 13^th floor or rooms which include “13”, something which in the pre-digital age was a charming quirk but when things were computerized added a needless complication.  The use of the actual number is important because in such a hotel the “14^th” floor is (in the architectural sense) of course the 13^th but there’s little to suggest there’s ever been resistance from guests being allocated room 1414.

Some number phobias are quite specific: Rooted in the folklore of Australian cricket is a supposed association of the number 87 with something bad (typically a batter (DEI (diversity, equity & inclusion) means they're no longer "batsmen") being dismissed) although it seems purely anecdotal and more than one statistical analysis (cricket is all about numbers) has concluded there's nothing “of statistical significance” to be found and there’s little to suggest players take the matter seriously.  One English umpire famously had “a routine” associated with the score reaching a “repunit” (a portmanteau (or blended) word, the construct being re(eated) +‎ unit) (eg 111, 222, 333 etc) but that was more fetish than phobia.

No fear of 17: Lindsay Lohan appeared on the covers of a number of issues of Seventeen magazine.  Targeted at the female market (age rage 12-18), the US edition of Seventeen is now predominately an on-line publication, printed only as irregular "special, stand-alone issues" but a number of editions in India and the Far East continue in the traditional format. 

Other illustrative number phobias include oudenophobia (fear of 0), (trypophobia (fear of holes) said to sometimes be the companion condition), henophobia (fear of 1) (which compels sufferer to avoid being associated with “doing something once”, being the “first in the group” etc), heptaphobia (fear of 7) (cross-culturally, a number also with many positive associations), eikosiheptaphobia (fear of 27) (a pop-culture thing which arose in the early 1970s when a number of rock stars, at 27, died messy, drug-related deaths), tessarakontadyophobia (fear of 42) (which may have spiked in patients after the publication of Douglas Adams’ (1952–2001) Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1979-1992), enenekontenneaphobia (fear of 99) (thought not related to the Get Smart TV series of the 1960s), tetrakosioeikosiphobia (fear of 420) (the syndrome once restricted to weed-smokers in the US but long internationalized), the well-documented hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia (fear of 666), heftakosioitessarakontaheptaphobia (fear of 747) (though with the withdrawal from passenger service of the tough, reliable (four engines and made of metal) Boeing 747 and its replacement with twin-engined machines made increasingly with composites and packed with lithium-ion batteries, a more common fear may be “not flying on a 747”, most common among heftakosioitessarakontaheptaphiles).  Enniakosioihendecaphobia (fear of 911) was, in the US, probably a co-morbidity with tetrakosioeikosiphobia but it may also have afflicted also those with a bad experience of a pre-modern Porsche 911 (1963-) which, in inexpert hands, could behave as one would expect of a very powerful Volkswagen Beetle, the most acute cases manifesting as triskaidekaphobia (fear of 930, that number being the internal designation for the original 911 Turbo (1974-1989), the fastest of the breed, soon dubbed the "widow-maker").

Nongentiseptuagintatrestrillionsescentiquinquagintanovemmiliacentumtredecimdeciesoctingentivigintiquattuormiliatrecentiphobia (fear of 973,659,113,824,315) describes a the definitely rare condition and it's assumed that was word was coined by someone determined to prove it could be done. There’s also compustitusnumerophobia (fear of composite numbers), meganumerophobia (fear of large numbers), imparnumerophobia (fear of odd numbers), omalonumerophobia (fear of even numbers), piphobia (fear of pi), phiphobia (fear of the golden ratio), primonumerophobia (fear of prime numbers), paranumerophobia (fear of irrational numbers), neganumerophobia (fear of negative numbers) and decadisophobia (fear of decimals).  All such types are unrelated to arithmophobia (or numerophobia) which is the "fear of numbers, calculations & math", a syndrome common among students who "just don't get it" and there are many because those "good at math" and those not really are two separate populations; it's rare to be able to transform the latter into the former, a better solution being to send them to law school where many flourish, needing to master the arithmetic only of billing their time in six-minute increments (1/10th of an hour).  Having ten fingers and thumbs, most manage the calculations.  The marvellous Wiki Fandom site and The Phobia List are among the internet’s best curated collection of phobias.

The only one which debatably can’t exist is neonumerophobia (fear of new numbers) because, given the nature of infinity, there can be no “new numbers” although, subjectively, a number could be “new” to an individual so there may be a need.  Sceptical though mathematicians are likely to be, the notion of the “new number” ("zero" debatably the last) has (in various ways) been explored in fiction including by science fiction (SF or SciFi) author & engineer Robert A Heinlein (1907–1988) in The Number of the Beast (1980), written during his “later period”.  More challenging was Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by English schoolmaster & Anglican priest Edwin Abbott (1838–1926) which was published under the pseudonym “A Square”, the layer of irony in that choice revealed as the protagonist begins to explore dimensions beyond his two-dimensional world (in Victorian England).  Feminists note also Ursula K Le Guin’s (1929–2018) The Left Hand of Darkness (1969) in which was created an entirely new numerical system of “genderless" numbers”.  That would induce fear in a few.

Lindsay Lohan's cover of the song Edge of Seventeen appeared on the album A Little More Personal (2005).  Written by Stevie Nicks (b 1948), it appeared originally on her debut solo studio album Bella Donna (1981).

In entymology, there are insects with no fear of the number 17.  In the US, the so-called “periodical cicadas” (like those of the genus Magicicada) exist in a 17 year life cycle, something thought to confer a number of evolutionary advantages, all tied directly to the unique timing of their mass emergence: (1) The predator satiation strategy: The creatures emerge in massive numbers (in the billions), their sheer volume meaning it’s physically impossible for predators (both small mammals & birds) to eat enough of them to threaten the survival of the species. (2) Prime number cycles: Insects are presumed unaware of the nature of prime numbers but 17 is a prime number and there are also periodic cicadas with a 13 (also a prime) year cycle.  The 13 (Brood XIX) & 17-year (Brood X) periodic cicadas do sometimes emerge in the same season but, being prime numbers, it’s a rare event, the numbers' LCM (least common multiple) being 221 years; the last time the two cicadas emerged together was in 1868 and the next such event is thus expected in 2089.  The infrequency in overlap helps maintain the effectiveness of the predator avoidance strategies, the predators typically having shorter (2-year, 5-year etc) cycles which don’t synchronize with the cicadas' emergence, reducing chances a predator will evolve to specialize in feeding on periodical cicadas. (3) Avoidance of Climate Variability: By remaining underground for 17 years, historically, periodical cicadas avoided frequent climate changes or short-term ecological disasters like droughts or forest fires. The long underground nymph stage also allows them to feed consistently over many years and emerge when the environment is more favorable for reproduction.  Etymologists and biological statisticians are modelling scenarios under which various types of accelerated climate change are being studied to try to understand how the periodic cicadas (which evolved under “natural” climate change) may be affected. (4) Genetic Isolation: Historically, the unusually extended period between emergences has isolated different broods of cicadas, reducing interbreeding and promoting genetic diversity over time, helping to maintain healthy populations over multiple life-cycles.

No 17^th row: Alitalia B747-243B I-DEMP, Johannesburg International Airport, South Africa, 2001.

There are a variety of theories to account for the Italian superstition which had rendered 17 the national “unlucky number” but it does seem to be due primarily to a linguistic and symbolic association from ancient Rome.  The most accepted explanation is that in Roman numerals 17 is XVII which, anagrammatically, translates to VIXI (Latin for “I have lived” (the first-person singular perfect active indicative of vīvō (to live; to be alive)), understood in the vernacular as “my life is over” or, more brutally: “I am dead”.  It was something which appeared often on Roman tombstones, making an enduring record which ensured the superstition didn’t have to rely on collective memory or an oral tradition for inter-generational transfer.  That would have been ominous enough but Romans noted also that Osiris, the Egyptian god of, inter alia, life, death, the afterlife and resurrection, had died on the 17^th day of the month, 17 thus obviously a “death number” to the logical Roman mind and the worst 17^th days of the month were those which coincided with a full moon.  The cosmic coincidence was an intensifier in the same sense that in the English-speaking world the conjunction leading to a Friday falling on the 13^th makes the day seem threatening.  Thus, just as in some places hotels have neither 13^th floor or rooms containing “13”, in Italy it’s “17” which is avoided although not having a row 17 in its airliners didn’t save Alitalia (Società Aerea Italiana, the now-defunct national carrier) from its COVID-era demise.  Of course not labelling a row or floor “13” or “17” doesn’t mean a 13^th or 17^th something doesn’t exist, just that it’s called “14” or “18” so it’s the symbolic association which matters, not the physical reality.  Mashing up the numerical superstitions, that 17 is an “unlucky number” shouldn’t be surprising because it’s the sum of 13 + 4, the latter being the most dreaded number in much of East Asia, based on the pronunciation resembling “death” in both Chinese and Japanese.

In automotive manufacturing, there was nothing unusual about unique models being produced for the Italian domestic market, the most common trick being versions with engines displacing less than 2.0 litres to take advantage of the substantially lower tax regime imposed below that mark.  Thus Ferrari (1975-1981) and Lamborghini (1974-1977) made available 2.0 litre V8s (sold in RoW (rest of the world) markets variously in 2.5 & 3.0 litre displacements), Maserati a 2.0 V6 (usually a 3.0 in the Maserati Merak (1972-1983) although it appeared in 2.7 & 3.0 litre form in the intriguing but doomed Citroën SM (1970-1975)) and Mercedes-Benz created a number of one-off 2.0 litre models in the W124 range (1974-1977) exclusive to the Italian domestic market (although an unrelated series of 2.0 litre cars was also sold in India).  Others followed the trend although, the more expensive they were, the less appeal seemed to exist despite, in absolute terms, the saving increasing as the price rose.  Maserati offered a twin-turbo 2.0 in the aptly named BiTurbo, BMW did a one off 320is and Alfa Romeo produced a run of 2.0 V6s.

Lindsay Lohan, aged 17, Teen Choice Awards, Universal Amphitheatre, Universal City, California, 2 August 2003.

From an engineering point of view, most audacious doubtlessly was the 2.0 litre version of TVR's V8S (1991-1994).  Supplied usually with a 4.0 litre version of the versatile Rover V8, the capacity of the version for the Italian market was halved by de-stroking, the bore of 88.9 and stroke of 40.25 mm creating an outrageously oversquare bore/stroke ratio of 45.28 but, with the assistance of a supercharger, the quirky engine almost matched in power and torque the naturally aspirated original with twice the displacement; It was a classic example of the effectiveness of forced-aspiration although it did demand of drivers a different technique.  By comparison, the Formula One BRM H16’s (1966-1967) bore & stroke was 69.8 x 49.9 mm and it was so oversquare to reduce the frictional losses which would have been induced had a longer stroke been used with that many cylinders; its bore/stroke ration was 71.48 compared with the almost square BRM V16 designed in the 1940s, the latter able to be in that configuration because (1) it was supercharged and (2) being only 1.5 litres, the stroke was anyway physically short in absolute terms.  The 2.4 litre V8s used in Formula One between 2006-2013 had to have a maximum bore of 98 and stroke of 40 mm (bore/stroke ratio 40.81) and that’s an indication of the characteristics the 2.0 litre TVR V8S offered.  Disappointingly, it was an experience few Italians sought and only seven were built.

It was Suzuki which had more success with work-arounds to Rome’s tiresome regulations.  Their two-stroke, triple cylinder GT380 (1972-1980) motorcycle was for most of its existence made with an actual displacement of 371 cm³ but in 1975, the Italian government passed a law banning the importation of motor-cycles under 380 cm³ and weighing less than 170 kg.  Accordingly, the Japanese produced a “big bore” 380 exclusively for the Italian market displacing an actual 384 cm³.  The portly triple would never have run afoul of the weight limit but just to avoid any unpleasantness, the data plate riveted to the frame recorded a verified mass of 171 kg.  Honor apparently satisfied on both sides, the GT380 remained available in some places until 1980, outliving the Suzuki’s other two-strokes triples by three seasons.

US advertisement for the Renault 17 (1974), the name Gordini adopted as a "re-brand" of the top-of-the-range 17TS,  Gordini was a French sports car producer and tuning house, absorbed by Renault in 1968, the name from time-to-time used for high-performance variants of various Renault models.

One special change for the Italian market was a nod to the national heptadecaphobia, the car known in the rest of the world (RoW) as the Renault 17 (1971-1979) sold in Italy as the R177.  For the 17, Renault took the approach which had delivered great profits: use the underpinnings of mundane mass-produced family cars with a sexy new body draped atop.  Thus in the US the Ford Falcon (1959-1969) begat the Mustang (1964-) and in Europe Ford made the Capri (1968-1976) from the Cortina (1962-1982).  Opel’s swoopy GT (1968-1973) was (most improbably) underneath just the modest Kadett.  It wasn’t only the mass-market operators which used the technique because in the mid 1950s, Mercedes-Benz understood the appeal of the style of the 300 SL (W198, 1954-1957) was limited by the high price which was a product of the exotic engineering (the space-frame, gullwing doors, dry sump and the then novel MFI (mechanical fuel-injection)), the solution being to re-purpose the platform of the W120, the small, austere sedan which helped the company restore its fortunes in the post-war years before the Wirtschaftswunder (economic miracle) was celebrated in 1959 with the exuberance of the Heckflosse (tailfin) cars (1959-1968).  On the W120 platform was built the 190 SL (W121, 1955-1963), an elegant (it not especially rapid) little roadster which quickly became a trans-Atlantic favourite, particularly among what used to be called the “women’s market”.

Only in Italy: The Renault 177, exclusively for heptadecaphobes.

Using the same formula, the Renault 17 was built on the underpinnings of the Renault 12, a remarkably durable platform, introduced in 1969 and, in one form or another, manufactured or assembled in more than a dozen countries, the last not produced until 2006.  Like the Anglo-German Ford Capri, the 17 was relatively cheap to develop because so much was merely re-purposed but for a variety of reasons, it never managed to come close to match the sales of the wildly successful Ford, FWD (front wheel drive) not then accepted as something “sporty” and Renault's implementation on the 17 was never adaptable to the new understanding of the concept validated by FWD machines such as Volkswagen’s Golf GTi which would define the “hot hatch”.  Like most of the world, the Italians never warmed to the 17 but presumably the reception would have been even more muted had not, in deference to the national superstition about the number 17, the name been changed to “Renault 177”, the cheaper companion model continuing to use the RoW label: Renault 15.

Button

Button (pronounced buht-n)

(1) A small disk, knob, or the like for sewing or otherwise attaching to an article, as of clothing, serving as a fastening when passed through a buttonhole or loop.

(2) Anything resembling a button, especially in being small and round, as any of various candies, ornaments, tags, identification badges, reflectors, markers, etc.

(3) A badge or emblem bearing a name, slogan, identifying figure, etc., for wear on the lapel, dress, etc.

(4) Any small knob or disk pressed to activate an electric circuit, release a spring, or otherwise operate or open a machine, small door, toy, etc.

(5) In botany, a bud or other protuberant part of a plant.

(6) In mycology, a young or undeveloped mushroom or any protuberant part of a fungus.

(7) In zoological anatomy, any of various small parts or structures resembling a button, as the rattle at the tip of the tail in a very young rattlesnake.

(8) In boxing slang, the point of the chin.

(9) In architecture, a fastener for a door, window, etc., having two arms and rotating on a pivot that is attached to the frame (also called turn button).

(10) In metallurgy, when assaying, the small globule or lump of metal at the bottom of a crucible after fusion.

(11) In fencing, the protective, blunting knob fixed to the point of a foil.

(12) In horology, alternative name for the crown, by which watch is wound.

(13) In the graphical user interface of computers and related devices, a small, button-shaped or clearly defined area that the user can click on or touch to choose an option.

(14) Slang term for the peyote cactus.

(15) A small gathering of people about two-thirds of the drinks are spiked with LSD.  Those who drink the un-spiked are the buttons responsible for babysitting the trippers (1960s west coast US use, now extinct).

(16) A series of nuts & bolts holding together a three-piece wheel.  Such wheels are very expensive because of the forging process and the ability to stagger offsets to create large lips.

(17) In boiler-making, the piece of a weld that pulls out during the destructive testing of spot welds

(18) In rowing, a projection around the loom of an oar that prevents it slipping through the rowlock.

(19) South African slang for methaqualone tablet.

(20) A unit of length equal to one twelfth of an inch (British, archaic).

(21) Among luthiers, in the violin-family instrument, the near semi-circular shape extending from the top of the back plate of the instrument, meeting the heel of the neck.

(22) In the plural (as buttons), a popular nickname for young ladies, whose ability to keep shirt buttons buttoned is in inverse proportion to the quantity of strong drink taken.

1275-1325: From the Middle English boto(u)n (knob or ball attached to another body (especially as used to hold together different parts of a garment by being passed through a slit or loop)), from the Anglo-French, from the Old & Middle French boton (button (originally, a bud)), from bouter & boter (to thrust, butt, strike, push) from the Proto-Germanic buttan, from the primitive Indo-European root bhau- (to strike); the button thus, etymologically, is something that pushes up, or thrusts out.  Records exist of the surname Botouner (button-maker) as early as the mid-thirteenth century (and the Modern French noun bouton (button) actually dates from the twelfth century).  It was cognate with the Spanish boton and the Italian bottone.  The pugilistic slang (point of the chin) was first noted in 1921.  First use of button as something pushed to create an effect by opening or closing an electrical circuit is attested from 1840s and the use in metallurgy and welding is based by analogy on descriptions of mushrooms.  The verb button emerged in the late fourteenth century in the sense of "to furnish with buttons" which by the early 1600s had extended (when speaking of garments) to "to fasten with buttons".  The button-down shirt collar was first advertised in 1916.  In fields in which there are structures or entities which in part or in whole are “buttonlike” in appearance, there are many uses of “button” as a descriptor (button mushroom, button seal, button willow, button quail etc), botany, zoology anatomy, architecture, cooking and engineering all using the word thus.  There are also a number of idiomatic forms including “cute as a button” (very cute), “on the button” (correct) and “buttoned down (or up)” (conservative to the point of being repressed.Button is a noun & verb, buttoning is a noun & verb, buttoned is a verb & adjective, buttonize is a verb, and buttonlike & buttonable are adjectives; the noun plural is buttons.

John Button (1987) (1933-2008; senator for Victoria (ALP (Australian Labor Party) 1974-1993), oil on canvas by Andrew Sibley (1933–2015), National Portrait Gallery, Canberra, Australia.

New uses continue to emerge as technology evolves:  The phrase button-pusher to describe someone "deliberately annoying or provocative" was first recorded in the 1970s and hot-button issue appeared in political science journals as early as 1954, apparently a derivation of the brief use in the press of big red-button and hot-button to (somewhat erroneously) describe the mechanics of launching a nuclear attack.  Hot button issues can be useful for political parties to exploit but what the button triggers can shift with generational change: As late as the 1990s the Republican Party in the US used "gay marriage" as a hot button issue to mobilize their base but within 25 years the electoral universe had shifted and the issue no longer had the same traction; there had been generational change.  In the 1980s, the now mostly extinct button-pusher had been co-opted as a somewhat condescending description of photographers both by journalists and snobby art critics, the former suggesting some lack of affinity with words, the latter, an absence of artistic skill. 

How it came to be done: 2022 Mercedes-Benz EQS 56 inch (1.42 m) single-panel screen.  There are no physical buttons on the dashboard, something which provoked a reaction and, for certain critical features, there's been a welcome "button revival".

In cars, as in aircraft, the shifting of controls for core and ancillary systems from individual buttons and switches to combined or multi-function controllers began to accelerate during the 1960s, a reaction to the increasing number of electrically activated functions being installed to the point where, if left individualised, in some of the more electronic vehicles, space for all the buttons would have been marginal and ergonomics worse even than it was.  Some very clever designs of multi-function controllers did appear but in the twenty-first century, by the time LED flat-screen technology had become elsewhere ubiquitous, it became possible to integrate entire system control environments into a single screen which, able to display either one or a combination of several sub-systems at a time, meant space became effectively unlimited, arrays of virtual buttons and switches available in layers.  That didn't mean thing became easier or more convenient to use but production costs were lower.  Of late, in response to consumer pressure, some manufacturers have admitted the approach went to far and what might be appropriate for someone sitting at their desk using a desktop PC (and the only way things can be done on a phone), might not be a good idea when driving a car at speed, in traffic.  Thus, for core critical functions (ie those drivers most often perform) such as adjusting settings on entertainment and HVAC (heating, ventilation & air conditioning) systems, buttons are making a welcome comeback.

For those who can remember the ways things used to be done: 1965 Jaguar Mark X 4.2 with burl walnut & red leather.  Jaguar's cockpits in the 1960s were among the most atmospheric of the era although, even at the time, the less than ideal ergonomics attracted criticism.  Something has been lost with the decline of the sensual, tactile, analogue world of buttons, knobs & switches.

There were buttons and there were switches.  Jaguar used toggle switches until US safety regulations in 1967 compelled a change to rocker switches with softer edges and less forward projection, similar concerns resulting in the top section of the dashboard gaining a padded vinyl covering.  Indeed, at the time, there was in the UK and Europe a suspicion US regulators might ban the use of decorative timber in car interiors and the models Mercedes-Benz released in 1971 & 1972 had none but the austerity didn't last, the veneers soon restored.  The functionality of the rocker switches was exactly the same as that of the toggles and they were certainly less prone to damage but for some the tactile experience was lacking, the ASMR less satisfying.  ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response) describes the physical & psychological pleasure derived from specific stimuli (usually a sound).  A highly segmented market, among the aficionadi there are niches as varied as those who relish the clicking of an IBM Seletric typewriter or Model M keyboard, the sight & sound of South Korean girls on TikTok eating noodles, the mechanical precision of the fore-end slide of pump-action shotgun being operated or the flicking toggle switches.

The accounting departments of car manufacturers liked the change to touch-screens because it was cheaper to produce and install the things rather than an array of individual buttons, switches, instruments and lights, behind each of which ran at least one and sometimes several wires or lines, requiring schematics that could be baffling even to experts who needed sometimes to track (literally) miles of cabling.   While now using sometimes even more wiring, the new systems are capable although their long-term reliability remains uncertain and in many cases, a button or switch is both easier to use and falls more conveniently to hand; that makes sense because with buttons one's sense of touch (finger-tips most sensitive) effortlessly can distinguish whereas all of a touchscreen feel the same.  It would be possible to make a a touchscreen "feedback" different vibrations or sounds depending on which icon is touched but that may create more problems than it solves and is anyway a complicated solution to a simple problem.   It's better just to provide some switches.  

1991 Mercedes-Benz 600 SE (W140).

Built on the SWB (short-wheelbase) platform, the 600 SE was offered only during the W140's first year, the V12 sedans subsequently available only as the LWB (long-wheelbase (V140)) 600 SEL (S 600 after 1993 when the corporate naming system changed).  The duplication on the glovebox of the trunk (boot) lid badging was also a single-year fitting and even if a buyer opted for the "badge delete option" the characters on the glovebox remained.  The badge delete option had existed for a long time but enjoyed a spike in popularity beginning during the 1970s when it became obvious the more expensive models were more likely to attract the eye of terrorists, kidnappers and such.  While outfits like the Baader–Meinhof Gang (technically the RAF (Red Army Faction)) had some fondness for stealing smart cars (the BMW 2002 ti_i and Porsche 911S apparently their favorites), they didn't approve of those driving (or being driven in) conspicuously expensive vehicles.  On the 450 SEL 6.9 (V116, 1975-1980), the factory's delete option code was 261 and in the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990) it was ticked by those who like to go fast on the Autobahn but not attract the attention of kidnappers or assassins.  One advantage the 6.9 did confer was, if pursued by kidnappers, one could outrun the BMWs and all but the fastest Porsches.

The noun buttonology genuinely does exist.  It was a calque of the Swedish knappologi and used to refer to the fashion for pedantic and often pointless systematization.  The construct followed the Swedish model (knapp (button) +‎ -ologi, coined by Swedish author August Strindberg (1849–1912) and appearing in the short story De lycksaliges ö (The Isle of the Blessed) which although written in 1884, wasn’t published until 1891 when it appeared in the compilation Svenska öden och äventyr (Swedish Destinies and Adventures).  Buttonology is used most often as a generic term to decry the exaggerated, obsessive or pointlessly pedantic systematization, especially of trivial subjects but literally it can describe the study or categorization of buttons (in the sense of clothing fasteners).  In a light-hearted vein, in the training of software engineers and designers, it’s the component of the course focusing on user interfaces (where there can be many buttons).  In US military slang, buttonology is used of user interfaces generally.

Button porn: Centre console in 1991 Mercedes-Benz 600 SEL (V140).

Although a sight to delight button-nerds, "peak button" unfortunately coincided with the "biodegradable wiring incident" (1991-1995) in which the soy-based insulation for the cables deteriorated some decades before the supplier's projected end-of-life, the issue exacerbated by the taste of soy which would attract rodents and other creatures happy to chew on the stuff for a quick snack.  The basic shape of the gear selector knob dates from one introduced in 1971, the design a product of analysing data from the Swedish government's mandatory post mortems (autopsies) of road-accident fatalities (under Swedish law, such corpses were for 48 hours the property of the state).  What the pathologists' findings revealed was lives could be saved if engineers could devise as a shift lever handle too large to penetrate the eye socket.  While there's an element of the macabre in such research and it wasn't something the factory choose widely to publicize, the design was a classic example of what's called "passive safety".

A tanned young lady in a bikini with a piece of belly button jewellery (sold also as "navel jewellery").

The 140-series sedans (1991-1998) and companion coupé (C140, 1992-1999) were peak-button and it won't happen again, touch-screens now much cheaper to install and although buttons are making something of a comeback, they'll not again be seen on such a grand scale.  The 140-series cars were end-of-era stuff in many ways and the last of the old-style exercises in pure engineering with which Mercedes-Benz re-built its reputation in the post-war years; what followed would increasingly show the influence of accountants and the dreaded "sales department".  Most charismatic of the 140s were the early, 402 bhp (300 kw) 600s tuned for top end power; the 6.0 litre (365 cubic inch) V12 (M120; 1991-2001 (although it would appear in cars by other manufacturers until 2012)) would later be toned-down a little with a greater emphasis on mid-range torque and thoughts of the 8.0 litre V16 and W18 prototypes entering production were shelved as the economic climate of the early 1990s proved less buoyant than had been expected.  Subsequent concerns about climate changed doomed any hope of resurrection but as something of a consolation, AMG for a while offered larger versions of the V12 (as big as 7.3 litres (445 cubic inch)).  Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-1997) died in her hotel's hire-car (S 280 with a 2.8 litre straight-six (171 cubic inch)) version of the 140.

Coincidently, it was in the "peak button" era that Mercedes-Benz revised the convention of model nomenclature, inverting the alpha-numeric placement which had evolved since the 1920s.  Until the 1980s, old nnn.xxx convention (mostly) made sense once the logic behind the sequence had been explained but even then there had long been inconsistencies with the letters doing "double duty" and the numerals not always aligning with displacement (as well as one off aberrations like "219") but by the 1990s the proliferation of ranges and models had made the old system more or less unmanageable.  Every series of cars was changed but most affected were the various C140s and they were especially unusual in being the last of the “SECs” and the first of the “CLs” with a mid-life spent as an “S”, the confusing alpha-numeric trajectory of the C140 600 being:

1992 600 SEC (Not sold in North America)

1993 600 SEC (Global)

1994-1995 S 600 (Global)

1996-1997 S 600 (North America) & CL 600 (RoW (rest of the world))

1998 CL 600 (Global)

1999 CL 600 (North America only)

1993 Cadillac Allanté in standard form (left) and with “wood grain kit” fitted (right).  Cadillac in the peak-button era did its bit and for most owners the look either was “enough” or “too much” but although the Allanté was then a very different sort of Cadillac targeting a demographic younger than the marque’s usual buyer profile, third party suppliers (which for generations had been selling all sorts of Cadillac accessories of dubious taste such as Rolls-Royce style grills & badges in anodized gold or “neo-classical” external spare tyre housings) saw possibilities and offered “wood grain kits”, pieces of plastic appliqué which could be glued to the dashboard and anywhere else there was an accommodating surface.

1991 Cadillac Allanté: Although the lines were neither adventurous or innovative, it was an accomplished design.

The Cadillac Allanté (1987-1993) was an ambitious project, a two-door, two-seater roadster produced in an expensive, travel & labor-intensive process which required trans-Atlantic transport (in modified Boeing 747 freighters) for the bodies from Pininfarina’s Italian factory to Cadillac’s assembly line in Detroit where final assembly was undertaken.  The US industry had in the 1950s & 1960s dabbled with this approach and even then it made little financial sense but it was a time when indulgences could be tolerated as a part of “image building”.  The economics of the late 1980s were very different but Cadillac early in the decade had, with a mix of jealousy and lust, been pondering the numbers achieved by the Mercedes-Benz R107 SL roadster (1971-1989), then quite ancient in automotive terms yet still habitually selling in numbers which belied its high price and vintage design.  Sharing mechanical components with higher-volume models and with the tooling for the structure long since amortized, Cadillac knew the thing was absurdly profitable despite being visually almost unchanged since its debut.

1988 Cadillac Allanté: One tangible advantage was the Allanté's removable hard-top was of aluminum and thus a relatively svelte 58 Lbs (26 kg) compared with the R107's steel unit which weighed in at a hefty 96 (44).  Roof-mounted hoists were popular with R107 owners.

Thus the Allanté, the company’s first two-seat roadster since the 1930s and one with the exclusivity of being built by an Italian coach-builder famous for having designed some of the most admired Ferraris.  Mechanically, the Allanté was unchallenging in that it was built on a shortened version of an existing platform which meant the use of FWD (front wheel drive) and the 4.1 litre (250 cubic inch) HT-4100 V8, both factors which meant there was no need to build new assembly lines or make expensive changes to existing facilities.  While the notion of an expensive “FWD roadster” may now seem strange, dynamically it made less difference than might be imagined because the Mercedes-Benz R107 was no sports car and for the Allanté’s intended market, the advantage of more interior space was thought more important than behaviour on a skid-pan.  The HT engine however proved more troublesome although that was a product of design flaws, not its placement in the Allanté.

Buttons come in many shapes, shades and sizes although most still are circular.  A button with four "sew holes" is called a "four-eye button".

The critical response was unexpectedly favorable.  In a comparison test published in the in February 1989 edition of C&D (Car and Driver magazine, not noted for being lavish in its praise of the US industry’s output), the writers declared it a better car than the Mercedes-Benz 560 SL (which may seem a slight achievement given the R107 was then some 18 years old and on a platform which had been designed in the late 1960s) and didn’t much dwell on either the Cadillac being some 15% cheaper nor it delivering slightly better fuel economy; their judgement was all about the driving experience likely to be typical of buyers (many of whom probably wouldn't notice the difference between FWD and RWD) although perhaps the sight of the “Pininfarina” script on the flanks lent some rose-tinting to their spectacles.  The testers noted the US-Italian hybrid was better suited to the urban conditions where most people would be operating most of the time, finding the Allanté more nimble and decidedly more modern although what was left unstated was it was remarkable the trans-continental effort managed to be only slightly better in some aspects than what was a design two decades old and in its final months.

Last days of the baroque: 1989 Mercedes-Benz 560 SL in Light Ivory over Brasil Dark Brown leather.

The RoW (rest of the world) R107s & C107s didn't suffer the disfiguring modifications (headlights for the whole model life, bumper bars after 1973) fitted to the NA (North America) market cars to ensure compliance with various US regulations.  In the US, there's now a minor industry importing the RoW headlights and bumper bars to restore cars to the appearance the designers intended. 

In one area though, the 560 SL proved its mettle, the 5.5 litre (338 cubic inch) V8 out-running the Cadillac by 10 mph (16 km/h) in top speed and effortlessly out-accelerating it in any range about 25 mph (40 km/h), the advantage increasing as speeds rose.  Despite all the effort and expense, in some seven years, fewer than 21,500 Allantés were built while Mercedes-Benz shipped 237,287 R107s plus 62,888 LWB coupés (C107, 1971-1981) on the same platform, an average annual build rate over 18 years of some 17,000, two-thirds of which were exported to North America where, in places like Los Angeles, they were for decades the preferred (one suspects almost obligatory) transport for types such as interior decorators, successful hairdressers, the wives of cosmetic surgeons and bare-shouldered Hollywood starlets.  Had Lindsay Lohan in 1989 been of age, she'd have been at the wheel of a 560 SL.  Cadillac has had its failures (infamously the Cimarron) but it's believed never to have booked more of a loss on a single model than was the accountants' final reckoning of the (by then virtual) red-ink in which the Allanté's numbers were written.  By comparison, the write-down suffered with the cancellation of the division's remarkable Blackwing V8 (2018-2020) was relatively modest.  

1933 Cadillac 355C Coupe Convertible.  In 1933, Cadillacs had buttons but not many because there was then not so much stuff to activate although a valve-radio was on the options list.  As a nice touch (and a hint Cadillac understood their target market), a “golf bag compartment” was fitted behind the passenger’s door.  The external trunk and folding luggage rack were optional extras.

Introduced for 1931 as a lower cost range because the effects of the Great Depression drastically had reduced demand for Cadillac’s V12 & V16 lines, the V8-powered 355s (1931-1935) were, until the Allanté in 1987, the last Cadillac to be offered as a two-seat convertible although La Salle (its lower-cost stable mate) would offer the style as late as 1940, the year the brand was retired after a seven year stay of execution.  Cadillac called the coachwork a “Convertible Coupe” because “roadster” was associated with smaller, lighter machines; had it been built in England this would be dubbed a DHC (drop head coupé) while continental manufacturers would have preferred “cabriolet”.  In the elaborate Mercedes-Benz naming system it would be a “Cabriolet A” which designated “a two, door, two seat cabriolet with no rear quarter glass panes”.  The existence of supplemental passenger accommodation in the rumble seat does not affect the use of “Cabriolet A” because (1) Daimler-Benz never created a designation to describe the configuration (although “Cabriolet E” seems not to have been allocated if the factory is in the mood for retrospection) and (2) “Cabriolet A” anyway included certain models with provision for a third occupant in the rear of the passenger compartment. 

1933 Cadillac 355C Coupe Convertible. 

Somewhat unusually for the industry, Cadillac’s alpha-numerics were from day one locked in (355A (1931), 355B (1932), 355C (1933), 355D (1934) & 355E (1935)) so the “A” was not a retrospective appendage, unlike the Chrysler 300A which (informally) became the description of the 1955 C-300 only after, impressed by the sales of what had been intended as a one-off model to homologate parts for use in competition, the company for 1956 released the 300B.  Retiring the 355 range after 1935 meant Cadillac in 1939 never had to face the problem which afflicted not only Chrysler (when updating the 300H) but also bra manufacturers (what to slot-in between a 32H & 32J?) and the USAF (US Air Force) (when updating the Boeing B-52H).  The issue always was the desire to avoid an “I” being confused with a numeric “1”.  Chrysler and Boeing solved the problem by skipping the letter “I” and going straight to “J” while in the bra business there are very few “I cups”, the usual convention being to offer an “HH” (“double-H” in retail slang) or a “J”.  Although nominally a two-seater, three (snugly) could be accommodated and two more could fit in the rumble seat, the so-called “mother-in-law seat”, an appellation which makes most sense if she’s put there while the soft-top is in the raised position.  Unlike the Allanté, the 355 Coupe Convertibles were bodied in the US by Fisher, a GM (General Motors) coach-building division which was shuttered in 1984.

Reset button on early (clone) PC.

The stability of the PC (personal computer) has improved since August 1981 when the first IBM PC-1 appeared, triggering several waves of transformative changes which profoundly have altered the world; the AI (artificial intelligence) cycle is merely the latest of these “revolutions” and is unlikely to be the last.  One feature common on PCs during their first two decades of existence was the “reset button”, an oft-resorted to device because of the propensity of the things to “freeze” or lock-up, rendering the keyboard (until the late 1980s, mice were rare, expensive and used mostly by a lunatic fringe) useless.  While it might seem a redundant feature given each machine came with an on/off switch or button, the two performed distinct functions related to the limitations of the hardware and operation systems of the era.  The on/off switch performed a “cold start”, cutting and then restoring power to all components, an inherently slow and potentially stress-inducing process.  By contrast, the reset button triggered a “warm reset” which electrically asserted the CPU’s (central processing unit) RESET line (which, as implemented by many manufacturers, also often often reset the system bus) without cutting power; what it did was immediately restart execution at the firmware’s entry point (BIOS (basic input output (I/O) system) on genuine IBM PCs) while leaving the power-flow to the system uninterrupted.  The most obvious practical advantage of using the reset button was a faster restart and a reduction in mechanical wear on hard & and floppy drives by not subjecting them to spin-down & spin-up cycles.

Front panel on early (clone) PC.

The key (to the right, below the on/off power switch) enabled users to "lock" the keyboard, preventing use of the machine.  This mechanical security layer was required because the early operating systems had no accounts requiring a login and no password protection, meaning anyone who turned the thing on had unfettered access (very few programs offered application-level security).  The "Turbo" button was there to permit users to "throttle-back" to CPU to the 4.77 MHz speed used by the 8086 & 8088 CPUs in the original PCs.  That was needed to ensure some older software (especially games) would still run on newer hardware, running at a dazzling 7.16 or 9.54 MHz.  

Because almost all the early operating systems (PC/MS-DOS, CP/M-86 and the various UNIX ports) had no memory protection and only primitive fault recovery, a single misbehaving program could (1) disable the interrupts upon which hardware depended, (2) corrupt the system state and (3) make the keyboard wholly unresponsive.  Not only did all these things happen, they happened with some frequency so the advantages of the reset button offered were a real benefit to users.  The hardware also enjoyed a protection layer because the power switches on early PCs were "hard mechanical mains" switches, often directly switching line voltage which meant rapid power cycling could stress the power supply, cause voltage transients harmful to expansion cards and risk data corruption or loss because robust “parking” mechanisms were rare on the early hard drives.  As operating systems gained protected mode, multitasking, and graceful reboot mechanisms, the need for reset buttons diminished and gradually they disappeared from the standard specification.

Wall of 1000 buttons (actually 1,048) at Shimada Electric Manufacturing Company's OSEBA button theme park.

It’s not known how many theme parks currently operate around the planet but it’s estimated there are at least hundreds and there may be more than a thousand.  What can however be said with certainty is (1) all theme parks will have some buttons and (2) the world has only one “button-themed park”.  Opened in 2024 (presumably with the “press of a button”) OSEBA is operated by the Shimada Electric Manufacturing Company, a company founded in 1933 and specializing in elevator buttons which has for decades maintained an enviable reputation for producing high-quality equipment for elevators, both standard items and customized, decorative fittings.  The theme park’s appeal is essentially twofold: (1) the remarkable variation in appearance of buttons and (2) the tactile joy of pushing buttons.  Shimada was encouraged to enter the theme park business after noting the tours of its factory had for some time massively been over-subscribed with the company having the capacity to satisfy less than 1% of demand for places.  OSEBA is located in the city of Hachiōji and sits next to Shimada’s factory, the advertising noting it is a convenient 15-minute walk from the Keio-Hachioji Train Station.

Inside the OSEBA button theme park.

Thoughtfully designed in the Japanese manner, the theme of the experience is (predictably) “pressing buttons” but as well as being interactive, things are done in a way which builds anticipation because although the standard instruction is: “Push the button, and something will begin”, one can never predict quite what.  Sometimes it’s as simple as various pairs of choices (food, anime characters and such) with cumulative totals appearing, allowing visitors to understand how their preferences align with those of others.  It sounds simple but it’s popular although apparently not as addictive as the “wall of a thousand buttons” (there are actually 1,048 because symmetry is important in Japan) where one “races the clock” to press as many buttons as possible within 30 seconds ; in a country renowned for serious weird hobbies, it’s almost conventional.  More visually intriguing is the immersive “Infinite Elevator Box” which uses dynamic, colorful visuals to create a feeling of movement, even while remaining static.  Apart from the “Play” stuff, OSEBA also has a “Learn” area which focuses on the company’s history and craftsmanship.

Reset button: Sergey Lavrov (left) and crooked Hillary Clinton, Geneva, 2009.  The delicious irony is that one of crooked Hillary's few diplomatic successes came from a mistake in translation.  

Having failed in 2008 to secure the Democratic Party’s nomination to contest that year’s presidential election, crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947) between 2009-2013 to the consolation prize of becoming US secretary of state, the job she decided was a prelude to her becoming POTUS in 2016, a position to which she believed she was entitled.  Things didn’t quite work out as she’d hoped and her tenure at Foggy Bottom was marked by scandal (related, predictably, to her chronic untruthfulness) but one potential “diplomatic incident” was allowed to pass without adverse comment on the basis “she meant well”.  Following a not untypically troubled recent past, Barack Obama (b 1961; POTUS 2009-2017) decided to try to improve Washington’s relations with the Kremlin.  As a gesture in this vein, in 2009, crooked Hillary presented Sergey Lavrov (b 1950 Russian Minister of Foreign Affairs since 2004) with a red button (of the type often used in heavy machinery as an “emergency stop”) on which was printed “Reset” and a Roman alphabet transliteration of the Russian Cyrillic перегрузка (peregruzka).  The idea was, with the arrival in Washington of a new administration, the two states should “re-start” their relationship and try to pretend to forget as much as possible of the past.  Unfortunately, the department got the translation wrong and used the Russian word for “overload”; it should have read перезагрузка (perezagruzka).  Mr Lavrov however was also at the time anxious to improve things and accepted the gift in the spirit in which it was intended, he and crooked Hillary pushing the button simultaneously for several photo opportunities.

Lindsay Lohan’s belly button adorned  with belly button jewellery, Los Angeles, 2009.

The noun buttonology genuinely does exist.  It was a calque of the Swedish knappologi and used to refer to the fashion for pedantic and often pointless systematization.  The construct followed the Swedish model (knapp (button) +‎ -ologi, coined by Swedish author August Strindberg (1849–1912) and appearing in the short story De lycksaliges ö (The Isle of the Blessed) which although written in 1884, wasn’t published until 1891 when it appeared in the compilation Svenska öden och äventyr (Swedish Destinies and Adventures).  Buttonology is used most often as a generic term to decry the exaggerated, obsessive or pointlessly pedantic systematization, especially of trivial subjects but literally it can describe the study or categorization of buttons (in the sense of clothing fasteners).  Obviously, practitioners of buttonology are buttonologists.  In a light-hearted vein, in the training of software engineers and designers, it’s the component of the course focusing on user interfaces (where there can be many buttons).  In US military slang, buttonology is used of user interfaces generally.

Childless cat lady Taylor Swift (b 1989) with Ragdoll Benjamin Button, named after the eponymous character in the movie The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008), Time Magazine cover for “Person of the Year” edition, 25 December, 2023.  Ragdoll cats make good stoles because (attributed to a genetic mutation), they tend to “go limp” when picked up.

An owner of three most contented felines, gleefully, Ms Swift in 2024 embraced the appellation “childless cat lady” after wide publicity of its earlier use as a slur by James David (J.D.) Vance (b 1984; VPOTUS since 2025), something prompted by Mr Vance being named as Donald Trump’s (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) running-mate in the 2024 US presidential election.  The now famous phrase had been used in a 2021 interview with then Fox News host Tucker Carlson (b 1969) when he lamented the decline in the state of the nation: “…we are effectively run in this country via the Democrats, via our corporate oligarchs, by a bunch of childless cat ladies who are miserable at their own lives and the choices that they've made and so they want to make the rest of the country miserable too.”  Mr Vance may have struck an electoral chord because while Kamala Harris (b 1964; US vice president 2021-2025) presumably gained the childless cat lady vote, the Trump-Vance ticket won the election: 77,302,580 (49.8%) to 75,017,613 (48.3%) in the popular vote and 312 to 226 in the Electoral College on a turnout of 64.1%.

Pressed or pushed, many buttons needed.

The literal (physical) button-hole was noted in tailoring first during the 1560s, the figurative sense "to detain (someone) unwillingly in conversation” dating from 1862, a variation of the earlier button-hold (1834) and button-holder (1806), all based on the image is of holding someone by the coat-button so as to detain them.  The adjectival push-button (characterized by pressing a button used to activate something) emerged in 1945 as a consequence of the increasing public appreciation of the extent to which military weapons systems had become electronically controlled.  The earlier form “push-buttons" was from 1903, a modification of the noun push-button (button pressed with the finger to effect some operation) from 1865, then applied to mechanical devices.  The earlier adjectival form was “press-button” (1892) derived from the noun (1879).  For no apparent reason, it was the earlier “press of a button” which tended in the 1950s & 1960s to be preferred to “push of a button” to express the concern felt at the ease with which the US and USSR could trigger global thermo-nuclear war although “flick of a switch” also achieved much currency.  None were exactly usefully descriptive of a complex chain of events but it’s true that in a launch of nuclear weapons, many buttons and switches still are involved.

Highly qualified content provider Busty Buffy (b 1996) during “button-theory” test session.  Button theory involves trying on “button-up” tops of various sizes and subjecting each to normal human movement, the test “passed” when no buttons “pop open”.

In fashion, the number of a top’s buttons “left undone” is a signifier of various things and the range extends from “all done up” to “all undone”, the latter usually restricted to catwalks and red carpets when stability of fabric sometimes is achieved with the use of adhesive, double-sided tape.  While not culturally specific, the meanings signified by the number left undone (usually from top-to-bottom) can differ depending on certain circumstantial variables (time, place, temperature, wearer, presence of paparazzi etc).

No fear of button theory: Button theory suggests buttons can be done-up or undone.  Noted empiricist Lindsay Lohan has for some years been undertaking a longitudinal study to test theory.

The fear of buttons is koumpounophobia, the construct being the Modern Greek κουμπί (koumpí) +‎ -phobia and the word, like many describing phobias is a neologism.  Koumpi was from the Ancient Greek κομβίον (kombíon) translates as button in its two literal senses (a fastener for clothing or a device for instrument or remote mechanical control).  A button in Greek is thus κουμπί (koumpí) (the plural κουμπιά) and the verb is κουμπώνω (koumpóno).  In the Ancient Greek the lexemic unit koump- didn’t exist although it did have κομβίον (kombíon (which exists in Modern Greek as komvíon)) which meant buckle.  It may seem as strange omission because Ancient Greek had κουμπούνω, (koumpouno) which meant “to button” but the root was κύαμος (komos or koumos) meaning “broad bean” and, because there were no buttons in the Greece of Antiquity, they used appropriately sized & shaped beans as clothes fasteners.  The construct of koumpouno (to button) koum(os) + + πονέω (poneo) (to work; to exert), the idea of a bean which is used again and again.  The suffix -phobia (fear of a specific thing; hate, dislike, or repression of a specific thing) was from the New Latin, from the Classical Latin, from the Ancient Greek -φοβία (-phobía) and was used to form nouns meaning fear of a specific thing (the idea of a hatred came later).  In medicine, the absence of the belly button is a rare congenital defect, the medical term for which is omphalocele, usually something ultimately of no physiological significance but because it can cause psychological distress, plastic surgeons can re-construct one, a relatively simple procedure.  The alternative for an omphalocelic is to shun omphalophiliacs and hook up with someone who suffers omphalophobia (fear of the belly button); they should live happily ever after.  The phobia koumpounophobia is unrelated and references only the manufactured objects.

Lindsay Lohan in trench coat buttons up.  As fashionistas know, with a trench the belt is tied, only the military buckling up.

So, in the narrow technical sense, an etymologist might insist koumpounophobia is the fear of clothing fasteners rather than buttons of all types but that seems not helpful and it’s regarded as a generalised aversion and one said sometimes associated with kyklophobia (the fear of circles or other round objects) and especially the surprisingly common trypophobia (fear of holes (particularly if clustered or in some way arranged in a pattern)).  Estimates of the prevalence of the condition have been given by some but these are unverified and it’s not clear if those who for whatever reason prefer zips, Velcro or some other fastener are included and with phobias, numbers really should include only those where the aversion has some significant impact on life.  The symptoms suffered can include (1) an inability to tolerate the sight, sound, or texture of buttons, (2) feelings of panic, dread, or terror when seeing or thinking about buttons, (3) an acknowledgment that the fear is either wholly irrational or disproportionate to the potential danger.  Koumpounophobia reactions are usually automatic & uncontrollable and the source may be unknown or experiential (exposure to some disturbing imagery or description of buttons or an actual event involving buttons such as swallowing one when a child).  Like many phobias, the physical reactions can include a rapid heartbeat, shortness of breath, trembling, excessive sweating, nausea, dry mouth, inability to speak or think clearly, tightening of stomach muscles, and an overwhelming desire to escape from button-related situations.  All are likely to involve an anxiety attack to some extent and the recommended treatment is the staggered exposure therapy used for many phobias; the patient slowly learning to wear, use and live with buttons; antidepressants, tranquillisers & beta-blockers are now considered medications of last resort.

Buttons are hard to avoid.

What is sometimes treated as koumpounophobia can be a manifestation of a different phobia.  In the literature there are examples of buttons triggering anxiety when touched or viewed but the reaction was actually to texture, color or a resemblance to something (typically a face, mouth or teeth).  The button is thus incidental to the reaction in the same way that those with mysophobia (in popular use the germophobic) may react to buttons because of the association with uncleanliness.  One documented aspect of obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) is that many sufferers immediately wash their hands after touching a button; the increased prevalence of this behaviour during the COVID-19 pandemic in relation to buttons touched by other (keyboards, elevators etc) is not thought indicative of a phobia but would be if it manifests as life-long behaviour.

Apple Magic Mouse, Multi-Touch Surface in white @ US$99.00 (left), Logitech Signature M650 L, full-size wireless two-button Scroll Mouse with Silent Clicks in blue @ US$37.99 (centre) and Steve Jobs' vision of hell: Canon 5565B001 X Mark I Slim 3-in-1 wireless mouse with keypad calculator @ US$49.95. 

Steve Jobs (1955-2011; co-founder, and sometime chairman & CEO of Apple) was said to have an aversion to buttons, something linked to his fondness for button-free turtleneck clothing but given he spent decades using keyboards without apparent ill-effect, it’s doubtful a clinician would diagnose koumpounophobia and it's more likely he was just convinced of the technological advantages of going button-less.  Without buttons, manufacturing processes would be cheaper, water-proofing devices like iPhones would become (at least theoretically) possible and upgrades would no longer be constrained by static buttons, the user interface wholly virtualized on one flat panel, able to be changed (the industry's term for "change" is "upgrade" although users don't always agree there has been an improvement) purely in software.  It apparently started with the button-less Apple mouse, the industry legend being Mr Jobs saw a prototype (which the designers regarded as nothing more than speculative) and insisted it become Apple’s standard device.

Whether or not it happened that way, the story is illustrative of the way business was done at Apple and it’s notable his veto on offering a stylus with which to interact with apps or the operating system didn’t survive his death.  His response to the idea of a stylus was reportedly “yuk” and he seems to have decided all his users would think the same way and probably he was right, Apple’s users tending usually to do what Apple tells them to do.  Indeed, one of reasons Apple has found the Chinese market so receptive to the iPhone is that the company's approach accords with "the Chinese way": First, their parents tell them what to do, then their teachers tell them what to do, then the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) tells them what to do; Apple found it most agreeable they also did what it told them to do.  However, for those who find the sleek Apple mouse better to behold than use, third-party products with buttons and scroll wheels are available, sometimes for half the cost of the genuine article.  Since the death of Mr Jobs, Apple has relented on the "stylus question".

Shiny on the outside: Finished in Bianco Avus over black leather with Rosso Corsa (racing red) instruments, of the 400 Ferrai Enzos (2002-2004) chassis 133023 (2003) was the only one the factory painted white.  Some Ferraris really suit white, notably the elegant 365 GT4 2+2 and the successor 400 and 412 models (1972-1989).

The dreaded “Ferrari sticky buttons” is a well-known phenomenon, the stickiness coming from the rubberized material preferred by the factory because of the superior feel offered.  However, under just about any climatic conditions, continuous use will induce a deterioration which resembles melting, "mushiness" the final outcome.  The internet is awash with suggestions, the simplest of which involves products like rubbing alcohol (the use of which can cause its own destructiveness) and the consensus seems to be that in many cases only replacement buttons will produce a satisfactory result.  The choice is between obtaining the real Ferrari part-number (if available) with the knowledge the problem will re-occur or use third-part replacements which are made of a more durable material, the disadvantage being the feel won’t be quite the same and there’s a reluctance among some to use non-factory parts, an attitude enforced by the "originality police". 

Sticky on the inside: Ferrari 485 California F1 gearbox buttons, sticky (left) and not (right).

Ferrari does use the suspect material for a reason and it’s applied to interior components such as trim, bezels, buttons & switches, and heating, ventilation & air-conditioning panels.  The coatings are usually referred to as “soft-touch” and designers like them for the soft, velvet-like feel imparted.  Used also on computer mice and electronic remote controls, the low gloss sheen is in cars helpful because being absorptive, glare is reduced and Ferrari uses both a clear and black finish.  It’s an issue not exclusive to Ferraris although owners of those do seem most concerned and while using rubbing alcohol might sound a tempting Q&D (quick & dirty) fix, for those with sticky buttons this is probably a job best left to experts of which there are now a few and they're finding business good.