Ellipsis

Ellipsis (pronounced ih-lip-sis)

(1) In grammar, the omission from a sentence or other construction of one or more words that would complete or clarify the construction.

(2) In grammar, the omission of one or more items from a construction in order to avoid repeating the identical or equivalent items that are in a preceding or following construction.

(3) In grammar, a sequence of three dots (…) appearing in a text to indicate a pause, sometimes used for dramatic effect such as a “wait for it” moment.

(4) In typography, a mark or marks (——;* * *; … etc) to indicate an omission or suppression of letters or words.  The sequence of three dots (…) is now the most common (four if used at the end of a sentence, the last a period (full stop).  In linguistics jargon, the “three dots” are also called “suspension dots” or “suspension points”.

(5) In mathematics, the use of such a convention to indicate a pattern continues (ie in “1, 2, 3, ..., 8, 9”, the numerals “4, 5, 6, and 7” are “implied” and thus “mentally included “as part of the pattern.  As a digital representation of the vulgar fraction “one third”, “0.333…” means it’s a “repeating decimal”, having “threes” going on to infinity, tending always towards (but never quite reaching “one third”).

(6) In geometry, an ellipse (obsolete though, confusingly, the adjectival elliptical endures).

(7) In film & television production, the omission of scenes that do not advance the plot.

(8) As vertical ellipsis (⋮), three dots) vertically aligned, used to extend a list vertically, or as mathematical notation for “is divisible by” or “is a multiple of” and latterly adopted in computer GUIs (graphical user interface) for various purposes, notably the “Customize and Control” drop-down menu in Google’s Chrome web browser (although Microsoft Edge and some other browsers based on the open source Chromium use a horizontal three dots).

1560–1570: An unadapted borrowing from the Latin ellīpsis, from the Ancient Greek ἔλλειψις (élleipsis) (omission; a falling short, defect), noun of action from elleipein (to fall short, leave out), from en- (in the sense of “in”) + leip- (stem of leípein (to leave) + -sis.  Leipein was reconstructed to be from the primitive Indo-European root leikw- (to leave).  The –sis suffix was from the Ancient Greek -σις (-sis) and was used to forms noun of action), often via Latin but increasingly also from French; it had exactly the same effect as the Latin –entia and the English -ing.  Historically, the use in terms borrowed from Ancient Greek was comparatively rare but there are many modern coinages based on Ancient Greek roots, reflecting to ongoing reverence for the ancient languages.  Confusingly, the word elliptical needs detailed explanation.  As an adjective, elliptical can mean (1) in geometry, in a shape of, or reminding of, an ellipse; oval or (2) in linguistics of, or showing ellipsis (having a word or words omitted); relating to or containing an instance of ellipsis or (3), of speech, concise or condensed.  The geometric use is also specific in botany, elliptical referring only to the general shape of the object (typically a leaf), independently of its apex or margin (and sometimes the base), so that an “elliptic leaf” may at both ends be pointed.  A three-dimensional elliptical object is ellipsoid, while an object that is not a perfectly stretched circle is ovoid or obovoid (and to mathematicians, a circle is a type of elipse).  In the gym equipment business, am “elliptical trainer” is an exercise machine in which the feet of the user travel an elliptic path; they’re used to simulate stair climbing, walking, or running while offering the advantage of being “low impact”, meaning there’s less jarring to inflict excessive pressure on joints.  The synonym is eclipsis (omission of parts of a word or sentence).  Ellipsis, ellipsization & ellipsism are nouns, elliptical is a noun & adjective and elliptically is an adverb, the noun plural is ellipses.

In classical and medieval texts, ellipses were unmarked, but the practice of marking them originated in the scripts of late sixteenth century plays as a way to indicate the “imperfections of the voice”, the omissions, pauses and interruptions fundamental to spoken language (seen in the modern day discipline of “disfluencies”, something of a backwater in linguistics until the importance of the phenomenon in “natural language” was recognized by those developing AI (artificial intelligence) bots).  All those years ago, those inserting ellipsis marks all had much the same purpose but there was initially no standardization of form, a continuous rule (-), a series of hyphens (---), or a series of points (. . .) all used, and which appeared reflected sometimes the practice of the printer (or possibly what “hard” fonts were to hand in the operation’s typographical sets (ie sometimes technologically deterministic)).  Asterisks (***) were first employed to display hiatuses in the printer's copy-text, but, as rules and points came to be used for other forms of omission (such as censorship or citation), strings of asterisks became interchangeable with alternative forms of ellipsis marks.

Promotional poster for Ellipsis (2017).

The film's published synopsis was: “In the middle of a crowded city, the paths of two strangers, a man and a woman, collide.  This accidental, chance occurrence sets in motion a chain of events that sees the two strangers embark on a night of adventure and connection that challenges their separate lives.  Ellipsis is a film about the random nature of life and human interaction and the small choices that can set our course.  Set in Sydney over the course of one night, it is also a portrait of the city and its inhabitants.  The film celebrates the distinct nature and idiosyncrasies of the people that live and work there.”  As blubs go, that’s a bit long and something tighter would be: “A film for book club ladies who like to talk about their feelings.”  Tempted?  There's a trailer.

It wasn’t until late in the 1800s that clear distinctions of use emerged on the path to twentieth century standardization with the dash (or continuous rule) the most commonly used (signalling abrupt changes or breaks) while points implied something longer and more hesitant (the classic “pause”).  Points also became the preferred mark for indicating omissions from quotations with the asterisk assuming the primary role of marking footnotes (“*” for the first, “**” the second and so on although other distinctive symbols would also be used (the obelus (†) or dagger the best known of many) and for endnotes (appearing at the end of the chapter, sequential superscript numbers became the standard convention, an obvious innovation rendered essential as endnotes came to exist in dozens.  In some aspects, the “standardization” of English over the last century-odd has for some been regretful but in printing, the uniformity in typographic conventions has been welcomed by most.  While dictatorial edicts on matters of content rightly are resisted, the combination of increasingly pervasive style guides and standardized font-sets in word-processers (and the now apparently extinct variant, the “desktop publisher”) has been a positive influence, meaning texts almost always use the same “language of symbols”, removing one source of potential ambiguity.  This has meant most obviously (and helpfully): (1) hyphens now rarely make up a rule, (2) dashes are usually one em in length, (3) an ellipsis mark is comprised of three points (or four if a full-stop is added) and (4) the asterisks (that once often signified ellipses) now have a “substitutive rule” to indicate a word or phrase has been self-censored (usually to avoid use of a vulgarity although sometimes this is done in a way to make the original still obvious (“s**t” or “f**k”) while attempting to evade text-based electronic filters.  In the less standardized world of social media and such, variants are common (such as “f#$k”) and all these forms differ from redactions (solid black lines where the words or entire passages would appear), the intention genuinely to conceal identities or events.

Ellipses (in red ellipses) in the Google Chrome (left) and Microsoft Edge web browsers; in Chrome, a vertical ellipsis was used whereas in Edge they were the traditional horizontal form.

Technically, there was no difference in function, the “three dots” just shapes on the screen used by the GUI (graphical user interface) for similar purposes and why Google’s designers opted for one and Microsoft’s the other may just be an example of “product differentiation”, both browsers ultimately derived from the open-source Chromium project.  Microsoft’s original Edge was proprietary with a unique interface, the product necessitated by the company’s IE (Internet Explorer) becoming a victim of its own success, locked into a cul-de-sac of a development path because of the need to maintain backward compatibility with the large base of corporate users using software with a “high IE dependency”.  As things turned out, embarking on a separate development path was “a browser too far” (even with all Microsoft’s resources) and, once reality bit, the decision was taken to “jump on the Chromium bandwagon”.  Few mourned IE although nerds still pine for the download bucket.

Filmmakers like “Ellipsis” as a title.

In texts, the use of ellipses is common but compared with other “technical” words from the jargon of grammar, it’s not well known.  For that reason, some style guides suggest oral use is governed by one’s audience: If addressing a circle of scholars of English literature, one may be assured they’ll know the meaning but if the gathering less specialized, it’s permissible (indeed, probably desirable) to say “dot dot dot”; this is a “verbal clue” as opposed to the “visual clue” of “air quotes” one might use to indicate a word or phrase should be visualized as appearing within “quotation marks”.  When Henry Fowler (1858–1933) published his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926), the use of the ellipsis (and other symbols used in texts) was still so inconsistent as to demand an untypically long and detailed entry, the technical details of which might mystify modern readers brought up on standardized conventions; genuinely there have been advantages in the way word processors and editors have imposed a kind of “structural homogenization”.

Even in 1965 when the second edition (with a textual revision by Sir Ernest Gowers (1880–1966)) appeared, Henry Fowler’s original entry substantially was left unchanged but by 1996 when there was a major update by Robert Burchfield (1923–2004), the entry radically was different, reflecting (1) the publishing industry having removed (almost all) inconsistencies and (2) readers being now less familiar with the kind of descriptive language Henry Fowler used because his expectation was of reaching an “educated audience”.  Many modern readers of a book like A Dictionary of Modern English Usage are of course in some ways “better educated” than previous generations but it’s a “different education” (not “inferior”, just “different”).  While in some aspects what Mr Burchfield did was by the purists, not well-received (“purity” probably not a helpful world-view when judging changes in the use of the English language) because he seemed all too accommodating of “lower standards”, his revision of the book’s entry for “Ellipsis” was helpful and common-sense, an indication of which was the same format being used by Jeremy Butterfield who edited the fourth edition (2015).  While the curmudgeons will continue to lament “linguistic promiscuity”, in some cases simplicity is better and anyway, some never forgave Burchfield for having “taken the lexicographical axe” to thousands of archaic words while an editor of the OED (Oxford English Dictionary).

A Lohanic ellipsis in action.  The operative part of the text: “It's waist-length, perfectly coiffed, and... blonde?” is read “…and [pause] blonde?”  As Ms Lohan points out, the distinction between “blonde” and “strawberry blonde” is significant because the latter happens at the margins of red.

So, in modern use, the working definition of ellipsis is accepted as the one appearing in the OED: “The omission of one or more words in a sentence, which would be needed to complete the grammatical construction or fully to express the sense.”  In spoken form, the ellipsis is so common as usually to pass unnoticed (such as: “Want some?” in which the pronoun has been dispensed with).  In other words, the ellipsis is an essential part of the “verbal shorthand” that comprises so much of conversational English, constructs created by a process in which certain notional elements of a sentence may be omitted if clearly they are predictable or recoverable by virtue of context.  Indeed, in “legitimate” use, English grammar really “demands” the omission of certain elements if sentences are to be thought “elegant”, the most obvious the injunction not the repeat the definite article: “He heard the whirr and ʌ click of machinery; (ie infinitive marker to not repeated before a second infinitive) or “I was forced to leave and ʌ give up my work at the hospital” (subject not repeated).  That doesn’t mean insertion of the missing elements is wholly proscribed because, if for dramatic effect some degree of emphasis is required, the repetition is an accepted device, but, but in everyday use or declarative or narrative prose, ellipsis is the “natural” form.  Those wishing to perform textual analysis of what’s been digitized will find many fields in literature littered with both ellipses and their deliberate avoidance.  Being English, in academic linguistics a remarkable number of variant forms have been identified and defined, the CGEL (A Comprehensive Grammar of the English Language (1985), edited by Professor Randolph Quirk (1920–2017) et al) needing more than 50 pages to list, illustrate, and label them all (strict, standard, situational, structural etc).  Of course the “rules” work because they interact with the human brain and, both being flexible, the “imaginary words” usually come quickly to mind.

The “rules” do however extend to defining “unacceptable types”, the most often cited being if two auxiliary verbs that operate in different ways are placed together.  So although it doesn’t seem obviously clumsy, one should not say or write: “No state has or can adopt such measures” because idiomatic tradition has come to require: “No state has adopted or can adopt such measures”.  Burchfield’s caution was: “When a change of grammatical voice is involved, ellipsis spells danger.  A reader cannot be expected to make the necessary adjustment from the active voice to the passive and supply an omitted part of the passive form.”  With that, old Henry Fowler would have concurred and even in the later editions one of his examples from 1926 was cited: “Mr Dennett foresees a bright future for Benin if our officials will manage matters conformably with its ‘customs’, as they ought to have been [insert managed]”. Comparisons can also produce unacceptable sequences when unwise ellipses are attempted: “The paintings of Monet are as good or better than those of van Gogh [read as good as or better than].  Perhaps less obviously wrong but best avoided is leaving out an auxiliary which is not the same number (singular/plural) as one that is given: “The murderer was hanged and his followers ʌ imprisoned [ellipsis of were].”  Of course, in non-standard speech the rules often are not followed and in literature are ignored for “conversational authenticity” a person in the US in 1973 affecting to be unaware of the Watergate scandal likely in certain circles to be admonished: “Watergate, man, where you been [insert have]?”  A sentence like that is also fun to play with by changing the emphasis on each word, each producing a subtle shift in effect.

The Oxford Handbook of Ellipsis (2018), edited by Jeroen van Craenenbroeck (b 1976) and Tanja Temmerman (b 1985).

That the concept of the ellipsis sounds simple and easily is illustrated by examples (“Sarah likes coffee and Jane, tea”) may leave some baffled the CGEL could fill 50-odd, densely packed pages on the topic but in modern structural linguistics, specialist scholars think that a mere bullet-point list.  For those wishing further to explore, there is The Oxford Handbook of Ellipsis (2018) and, running to an impressive 1148 pages and weighing in at 1.89 kg (4.16 lb), it’s a hefty tome, academically and physically.  Importantly, the work is not restricted to the way the ellipsis phenomena operates in English, a dozen-odd languages explored, examining, as the editors put it: “inter- & intralinguistic variation”.

Those wanting simply directions on “right & wrong” constructions are better off with a style guide but for word nerds of the le langage pour le langage school (language for language (best translated as “language focusing on itself”)) in the tradition of Russian literary theorist & linguist Roman Jakobson (1896–1982 and one of the most influential figures in structural linguistics), any deep dive into metalinguistics is tempting and somewhere in those 1148 pages must surely be “the last word on ellipsis”.  The Oxford Handbook of Ellipsis is divided into four parts: (1) the purpose of ellipsis and how it may be analysed when mapped to various theoretical frameworks, (2) an exploration of the utility of ellipsis as a diagnostic tool for other linguistic phenomena, (3) descriptions of the types of elliptical constructions found in natural language, such as “sluicing, gapping, and null complement anaphora” (students of jargon will not be disappointed by this work) and (4) case-studies in languages, including Russian, Hungarian, Dutch, Japanese, Persian and Finnish Sign Language.  The text is spread over 38 chapters, the tempting titles include Codeswitching, Sluicing and Its Subtypes, Predicate Ellipsis, Gapping and Stripping and Comparative Deletion.

Nail

Nail (pronounced neyl)

(1) A slender, typically rod-shaped rigid piece of metal, usually in many lengths and thicknesses, having (usually) one end pointed and the other (usually) enlarged or flattened, and used for hammering into or through wood, concrete or other materials; in the building trades the most common use is to fasten or join together separate pieces (of timber etc).

(2) In anatomy, a thin, horny plate, consisting of modified epidermis, growing on the upper side of the end of a finger or toe; the toughened protective protein-keratin (known as alpha-keratin, also found in hair) at the end of an animal digit, such as fingernail.

(3) In zoology, the basal thickened portion of the anterior wings of certain hemiptera; the basal thickened portion of the anterior wings of certain hemiptera; the terminal horny plate on the beak of ducks, and other allied birds; the claw of a mammal, bird, or reptile.

(4) Historically, in England, a round pedestal on which merchants once carried out their business.

(5) A measure for a length for cloth, equal to 2¼ inches (57 mm) or 1⁄20 of an ell; 1⁄16 of a yard (archaic); it’s assumed the origin lies in the use to mark that length on the end of a yardstick.

(6) To fasten with a nail or nails; to hemmer in a nail.

(7) To enclose or confine (something) by nailing (often followed by up or down).

(8) To make fast or keep firmly in one place or position (also used figuratively).

(8) Perfectly to accomplish something (usually as “nailed it”).

(9) In vulgar slang, of a male, to engage in sexual intercourse with (as “I nailed her” or (according to Urban Dictionary: “I nailed the bitch”).

(10) In law enforcement, to catch a suspect or find them in possession of contraband or engaged in some unlawful conduct (usually as “nailed them”).

(11) In Christianity, as “the nails”, the relics used in the crucifixion, nailing Christ to the cross at Golgotha.

(12) As a the nail (unit), an archaic multiplier equal to one sixteenth of a base unit

(13) In drug slang, a hypodermic needle, used for injecting drugs.

(14) To detect and expose (a lie, scandal, etc)

(15) In slang, to hit someone.

(16) In slang, intently to focus on someone or something.

(17) To stud with or as if with nails.

Pre 900: From the Middle English noun nail & nayl, from the Old English nægl and cognate with the Old Frisian neil, the Old Saxon & Old High German nagal, the Dutch nagel, the German Nagel, the Old Norse nagl (fingernail), all of which were from the unattested Germanic naglaz.  As a derivative, it was akin to the Lithuanian nãgas & nagà (hoof), the Old Prussian nage (foot), the Old Church Slavonic noga (leg, foot), (the Serbo-Croatian nòga, the Czech noha, the Polish noga and the Russian nogá, all of which were probably originally a jocular reference to the foot as “a hoof”), the Old Church Slavonic nogŭtĭ, the Tocharian A maku & Tocharian B mekwa (fingernail, claw), all from the unattested North European Indo-European ənogwh-.  It was further akin to the Old Irish ingen, the Welsh ewin and the Breton ivin, from the unattested Celtic gwhīnā, the Latin unguis (fingernail, claw), from the unattested Italo-Celtic əngwhi-;the Greek ónyx (stem onych-), the Sanskrit ághri- (foot), from the unattested ághli-; the Armenian ełungn from the unattested onogwh-;the Middle English verbs naile, nail & nayle, the Old English næglian and cognate with the Old Saxon neglian, the Old High German negilen, the Old Norse negla, from the unattested Germanic nagl-janan (the Gothic was ganagljan).  The ultimate source was the primitive Indo-European h₃nog- (nail) and the use to describe the metal fastener was from the Middle English naylen, from the Old English næġlan & nægl (fingernail (handnægl)) & negel (tapering metal pin), from the Proto-Germanic naglaz (source also of Old Norse nagl (fingernail) & nagli (metal nail).  Nail is a noun & verb, nailernailless & naillike are adjectives, renail is a verbs, nailing is a noun & vern and nailed is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is nails.

Nail is modified or used as a modifier in literally dozens of examples including finger-nail, toe-nail, nail-brush, nail-file, rusty-nail, garden-nail, nail-fungus, nail-gun & frost-nail.  In idiomatic use, a “nail in one's coffin” is a experience or event that tends to shorten life or hasten the end of something (applied retrospectively (ie post-mortem)) it’s usually in the form “final nail in the coffin”.  To be “hard as nails” is either to be “in a robust physical state” or “lacking in human feelings or without sentiment”. To “nail one's colors to the mast” is to declare one’s position on something.  Something described as “better than a poke in the eye with a rusty nail” is a thing, which while not ideal, is not wholly undesirable or without charm.  In financial matters (of payments), to be “on the nail” is to “pay at once”, often in the form “pay on the nail”.  To “nail something down” is to finalize it. To have “nailed it” is “to perfectly have accomplished something” while “nailed her” indicates “having enjoyed sexual intercourse with her”.  The “right” in the phrase “hit the nail right on the head” is a more recent addition, all known instances of use prior to 1700 being “hit the nail on the head” and the elegant original is much preferred.  It’s used to mean “correctly identify something or exactly to arrive at the correct answer”.  Interestingly, the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) notes there is no documentary evidence that the phrase comes from “nail” in the sense of the ting hit by a hammer.

Double-headed nails.

Double-headed nails are used for temporary structures like fencing.  When the shaft is hammered in to the point where the surface of the lower head is flat against the surface of that into which it's being hammered, it leaves the upper head standing proud with just enough of the shaft exposed to allow a claw-hammer to be used to extract nail.  There is a story that as part of an environmental protest against the building or demolition of some structure (the tales vary), activists early one morning went to the temporary fencing around the contested site and hammered in all the double-headed nails.  This is believed to be an urban myth.

The sense of “fingernail” appears to be the original which makes sense give there were fingernails before there were spikes (of metal or any other material) used to build stuff.  The verb nail was from the Old English næglian (to fix or fasten (something) onto (something else) with nails), from the Proto-Germanic ganaglijan (the source also of the Old Saxon neglian, the Old Norse negla, the Old High German negilen, the German nageln and the Gothic ganagljan (to nail), all developed from the root of the nouns.  The colloquial meaning “secure, succeed in catching or getting hold of (someone or something)” was in use by at least the 1760; hence (hence the law enforcement slang meaning “to effect an arrest”, noted since the 1930s.  The meaning “to succeed in hitting” dates from 1886 while the phrase “to nail down” (to fix in place with nails) was first recorded in the 1660s.

Colors: Lindsay Lohan with nails unadorned and painted.

As a noun, “nail-biter” (worrisome or suspenseful event), perhaps surprisingly, seems not to have been in common use until 1999 an it’s applied to things from life-threatening situations to watching close sporting contests.  The idea of nail-biting as a sign of anxiety has been in various forms of literature since the 1570s, the noun nail-biting noted since 1805 and as a noun it was since the mid-nineteenth century applied to those individuals who “habitually or compulsively bit their fingernails” although this seems to have been purely literal rather than something figurative of a mental state.  Now, a “nail-biter” is one who is “habitually worried or apprehensive” and they’re often said to be “chewing the ends of their fingernails” and in political use, a “nail biter” is a criticism somewhat less cutting than “bed-wetter”.  The condition of compulsive nail-biting is the noun onychophagia, the construct being onycho- (a creation of the international scientific vocabulary), reflecting a New Latin combining form, from the Ancient Greek ὄνυξ (ónux) (claw, nail, hoof, talon) +‎ -phagia (eating, biting or swallowing), from the Ancient Greek -φαγία (-phagía).  A related form was -φαγος (-phagos) (eater), the suffix corresponding to φαγεῖν (phageîn) (to eat), the infinitive of ἔφαγον (éphagon) (I eat), which serves as aorist (essentially a compensator for sense-shifts) (for the defective verb ἐσθίω (esthíō) (I eat).  Bitter-tasting nail-polish is available for those who wish to cure themselves.  Nail-polish as a product dates from the 1880s and was originally literally a clear substance designed to give the finger or toe-nails a varnish like finish upon being buffed.  By 1884, it was being sold as “liquid nail varnish” including shads of black, pink and red although surviving depictions in art suggests men and women in various cultures have for thousands of years been coloring their nails.  Nail-files (small, flat, single-cut file for trimming the fingernails) seem first to have been sold in 1819 and nail-clippers (hand-tool used to trim the fingernails and toenails) in 1890.

Francis (1936-2025; pope 2013-2025) at the funeral of Cardinal George Pell (1941-2023), St Peter’s Basilica, the Vatican, January 2023.

The expression "nail down the lid" is a reference to the lid of a coffin (casket), the implication being one wants to make doubly certain anyone within can't possible "return from the dead".  The noun doornail (also door-nail) (large-headed nail used for studding batten doors for strength or ornament) emerged in the late fourteenth century and was often used of many large, thick nails with a large head, not necessarily those used only in doors.  The figurative expression “dead as a doornail” seems to be as old as the piece of hardware and use soon extended to “dumb as a doornail” and “deaf as a doornail).  The noun hangnail (also hang-nail) is a awful as it sounds and describes a “sore strip of partially detached flesh at the side of a nail of the finger or toe” and appears in seventeenth century texts although few etymologists appear to doubt it’s considerably older and probably a folk etymology and sense alteration of the Middle English agnail & angnail (corn on the foot), from the Old English agnail & angnail.  The origin is likely to have been literally the “painful spike” in the flesh when suffering the condition.  The first element was the Proto-Germanic ang- (compressed, hard, painful), from the primitive Indo-European root angh- (tight, painfully constricted, painful); the second the Old English nægl (spike), one of the influences on “nail”.  The noun hobnail was a “short, thick nail with a large head” which dates from the 1590s, the first element probably identical with hob (rounded peg or pin used as a mark or target in games (noted since the 1580s)) of unknown origin.  Because hobnails were hammered into the leather soles of heavy boots and shoes, “hobnail” came in the seventeenth century to be used of “a rustic person” though it was though less offensive than forms like “yokel”.

Nails and pins

Mug shot “pin” from TeePublic featuring Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, left), Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) and Paris Hilton (b 1981, right).  In this context, although the product really is “the badge”, the name was gained from the built-in pin supplied to secure the object to clothing.

As designs, a nail and a pin are similar, obviously differing only in scale but the function of each is different.  A nail’s primary purpose is to function as a structural fastener joining materials (most typically two or more pieces of wood) although there are specialized nails driven into substrate by impact (variously with hammers or nail guns (sometimes called “pin-nailers”, some of which are built to fire “panel pins” (very slender nails) or small “headless nails”).  A nail relies on friction and compression in the surrounding material for its holding strength.  Pins look like scaled-down nails but mostly are used for alignment, retention or pivoting, rather than structural load-bearing.  Because of their more delicate construction, pins often are inserted through specific-purpose, pre-existing holes and in many cases are intended to be temporary and are thus removable.  Visually, both nails and pins have heads (round, flat, clipped etc) and a tapered shank with a tip pointed for pointed tip for penetration (“snub-nosed” nails do exist but are rare) and both are designed slightly to deform the surrounding material when driven.  The most obvious difference is that a pin’s head is very small and some are spherical and made from plastic; they’re designed only to be pushed with finger-pressure rather than being hit with a hammer.  Although the term “pin” is used for some specialized devices used in building and engineering (dowel pin, pivot pin, gudgeon pin (also as wrist pin), roll pin, cotter pin etc), the word is most associated with the tailor’s pin (used mostly in textiles and usually clipped to “pin”).  In jewelry design and textiles there are also variants including the “lapel pin” and the fashion industry’s device of last resort, the “safety pin”.

Pinhead in publicity shot for Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth (1992).

Clive Barker's (b 1952) supernatural horror movie Hellraiser (1987) was based on his novella The Hellbound Heart (1986) and was a surprise hit, making it a franchise which has thus far spawned nine sequels, the most recent released in 2022.  The plot involved a mysterious puzzle box that, when opened, summoned the Cenobites, a group of extra-dimensional, sadomasochistic beings unable to differentiate between pain and pleasure.  It was a good premise for a horror movie but the character who really captured the audience's imagination was the unnamed figure viewers dubbed “Pinhead”.  Although Pinhead appeared in the original film for fewer than ten minutes, the character became the franchise’s focal point and has since dominated the publicity material for subsequent releases.  The popularity of Hellraiser has been maintained and it’s hoped that for the next release the producers will offer the part to Peter Dutton (b 1970; leader of the Liberal Party of Australia 2022-2025).

Peter Dutton captured by a photographer during a happy moment (left), Pinhead with the box able to summon the Cenobites (centre) and and artist's depiction of Mr Dutton in “Pinhead mode” (digitally altered image, right).

No longer burdened with tiresome parliamentary duties since losing his seat in the 2025 Australian general election, Mr Dutton has time for a third career and he should be good at playing an unsmiling character who speaks in a relentless monotone; really, all he need do is act naturally.  It’s suspected also he’ll be good at learning a script given the decades he spent parroting “talking points” and TWS (three word slogans).  While it’s an urban myth Mr Dutton wasn’t offered the part of Lord Voldemort in the Harry Potter movie franchise because he was deemed “too scary”, as Pinhead he’d be “just scary enough”.  While the LNP (Liberal National Party) state government in Queensland recently has appointed Mr Dutton to the board of the QIC (Queensland Investment Corporation, the investment manager of the state’s Aus$135 billion in assets), it’s understood his duties in the Aus$130,000 per annum role will be neither onerous or time-consuming so there’ll be ample opportunity for film-shoots.  Although when in opposition the LNP had decried the ALP (Australian Labor Party) government’s frequent appointment of ALP figures to lucrative sinecures, once in office the LNP continued the “jobs for the boys” tradition.  In the modern era, the two most striking characteristics of right-wing fanatics is (1) a fondness for sitting safely in a bunker while advocating for (and sometimes sending) other people's children to go a fight a war somewhere and (2) after a career spent extolling the virtues of “private enterprise” and criticizing “government waste”, being anxious to get back on the public payroll as soon as their political careers end.  Reassuringly for taxpayers who may have been worried Mr Dutton would not be able to continue to enjoy the lifestyle to which their taxes made him accustomed (“entitled” as he might have put it), it’s believed his director’s fees from QIC will not affect his parliamentary pension (understood to be between Aus$260,000-Aus$280,000 per annum).

The Buick Nailhead

In the 1930s, the straight-8 became a favorite for manufacturers of luxury cars, attracted by its ease of manufacture (components and assembly-line tooling able to be shared with those used to produce a straight-6), the mechanical smoothness inherent in the layout and the ease of maintenance afforded by the long, narrow configuration, ancillary components readily accessible.  However, the limitations were the relatively slow engine speeds imposed by the need to restrict the “crankshaft flex” and the height of the units, a product of the long strokes used to gain the required displacement.  By the 1950s, it was clear the future lay in big-bore, overhead valve V8s although the Mercedes-Benz engineers, unable to forget the glory days of the 1930s when the straight-eight W125s built for the Grand Prix circuits generated power and speed Formula One wouldn’t see until the 1980s, noted the relatively small 2.5 litre (153 cubic inch) displacement limit for 1954 and conjured up a final fling for the layout.  Used in both Formula One as the W196R and in sports car racing as the W196S (better remembered as the 300 SLR) the new 2.5 & 3.0 litre (183 cubic inch) straight-8s, unlike their pre-war predecessors, solved the issue of crankshaft flex (the W196's redline was 9500 compared with the W125's 5800) by locating the power take-off at the centre, adding mechanical fuel-injection and a desmodromic valve train to make the things an exotic cocktail of ancient & modern (on smooth racetracks and in the hands of skilled drivers, the swing axles at the back not the liability they might sound).  Dominant during 1954-1955 in both Formula One & the World Sports Car Championship, they were the last of the straight-8s in top-line competition.

Schematic of Buick “Nailhead” V8, 1953-1966.

Across the Atlantic, the US manufacturers also abandoned their straight-8s.  Buick introduced their overhead valve (OHV) V8 in 1953 but, being much wider than before, the new engine had to be slimmed somewhere to fit between the existing inner-fenders (it would not be until later the platform was widened).  To achieve this, the engineers narrowed the cylinder heads, compelling both a conical (the so-called “pent-roof”) combustion chamber and an arrangement in which the sixteen valves pointed directly upwards on the intake side, something which not only demanded an unusual pushrod & rocker mechanism but also limited the size of the valves.  So, the valves had to be tall and narrow and, with some resemblance to nails, they picked up the nickname “nail valves”, morphing eventually to “nailhead” as a description of the whole engine.  The valve placement and angle certainly benefited the intake side but the geometry compromised the flow of exhaust gases which were compelled by their anyway small ports to make a turn of almost 180^o on their way to the tailpipe.  As an indication of the heat-soak generated by that 180^o turn, the surrounding water passages were very wide. 

It wasn't the last time the head design of a Detroit V8 would be dictated by considerations of width.  When Chrysler in 1964 introduced the 273 cubic inch (4.5 litre) V8 as the first of its LA-Series (that would begat the later 318 (5.2), 340 (5.5) & 360 (5.9) as well as the V10 made famous in the Dodge Viper), the most obvious visual difference from the earlier A-Series V8s was the noticeably smaller cylinder heads.  The A engines used as skew-type valve arrangement in which the exhaust valve was parallel to the bore with the intake valve tipped toward the intake manifold (the classic polyspherical chamber).  For the LA, Chrysler rendered all the valves tipped to the intake manifold and in-line (as viewed from the front), the industry’s standard approach to a wedge combustion chamber.  The reason for the change was that the decision had been taken to offer the compact Valiant with a V8 but it was a car which had been designed to accommodate only a straight-six and the wide-shouldered polyspheric head A-Series V8s simply wouldn’t fit.  So, essentially, wedge-heads were bolted atop the old A-Series block but the “L” in LA stood for light and the engineers wanted something genuinely lighter for the compact (in contemporary US terms) Valiant.  Accordingly, in addition to the reduced size of the heads and intake manifold, a new casting process was developed for the block (the biggest, heaviest part of an engine) which made possible thinner walls.  "Light" is however a relative term and the LA series was notably larger and heavier than Ford's "Windsor" V8 (1961-2000) which was the exemplar of the "thin-wall" technique.  This was confirmed in 1967 when, after taking control of Rootes Group, Chrysler had intended to continue production of the Sunbeam Tiger, by then powered by the Ford Windsor 289 (4.7 litre) but with Chrysler’s 273 LA V8 substituted.  Unfortunately, while 4.7 Ford litres filled it to the brim, 4.4 Chrysler litres overflowed; the Windsor truly was compact.  Allowing it to remain in production until the stock of already purchased Ford engines had been exhausted, Chrysler instead changed the advertising from emphasizing the “…mighty Ford V8 power plant” to the vaguely ambiguous “…an American V-8 power train”.

322 cubic inch Nailhead in 1953 Buick Skylark convertible (left) and 425 cubic inch Nailhead in 1966 Buick Riviera GS (with dual-quad MZ package, right).  Note the “Wildcat 465” label on the air cleaner, a reference to the claimed torque rating, something most unusual, most manufacturers using the space to advertise horsepower or cubic inch displacement (CID).

The nailhead wasn’t ideal for producing top-end power but the design did generate prodigious low-end torque, something much appreciated by Buick's previous generation of buyers who much had relished the low-speed responsiveness of the famously smooth straight-8.  However, like everybody else, Buick hadn’t anticipated that as the 1950s unfolded, the industry would engage in a “power race”, something to which the free-breathing Cadillac V8s and Chrysler’s Hemis were well-suited.  For that, the somewhat strangulated Buick Nailhead was not at all suited and to gain power the engineers were compelled to add high-lift, long-duration camshafts which enabled the then magic 300 HP (horsepower) number to be achieved but at the expense of smoothness; tales of Buick buyers (long accustomed to straight-8s that ran so smoothly at idle it could be hard to tell if the things were running) returning to the dealer to fix the “rumpity-rump” became legion.  Still, the Nailhead was robust, relatively light and offered what was then a generous displacement and the ever inventive hot-rod community soon worked out the path to power was to use forced induction and invert the valve use, the supercharger blowing the fuel-air mix into the combustion chambers through the exhaust ports while the exhaust gases were evacuated through the larger intake ports.  Thus, for a while, the Nailhead enjoyed a role as a niche player although the arrival in the mid 1950s of the much more tuneable Chevrolet V8s ended the vogue for all but a few devotees who continued use well into the 1960s.  Buick acknowledged reality and, unusually, instead of following the industry trend and drawing attention to displacement & power, publicized their big torque numbers, confusing some (though probably not Buick buyers who were a loyal crew who sometimes would look down on more expensive Cadillacs because they were "flashy").  The unique appearance of the old Nailhead retains some nostalgic appeal for the modern hot-rod community and they do sometimes appear, a welcome change from the more typical small-block Fords or Chevrolets.

Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird (1964-1999).

Not confused about numbers was the USAF (United States Air Force) which was much interested in power for its aircraft but also had a special need for torque on the tarmac and briefly that meant another quirky niche for the Nailhead.  The Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird (1964-1979) was a long-range, high-altitude supersonic (Mach 3+) aircraft used by the USAF for reconnaissance between 1966-1998 and by the NASA (National Aeronautics & Space Administration) for observation missions as late as 1999.  Something of a high-water mark among the extraordinary advances made in aeronautics and materials construction during the Cold War, the SR-71 used Pratt & Whitney J58 turbojet engines which featured an innovative, secondary air-injection system for the afterburner, permitting additional thrust at high speed.  The SR-71 still holds a number of altitude and speed records and Lockheed’s SR-72, a hypersonic unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) is said to be in an “advanced stage” of design and construction although whether any test flights will be conducted before 2030 remains unclear, the challenges of sustaining in the atmosphere velocities as high as Mach 6+ onerous given the heat generated and stresses imposed by the the fluid dynamics of air at high speed.

Drawing from user manual for AG330 starter cart (left) and AG330 starter cart with dual Buick Nailhead V8s (right).

At the time, the SR-71 was the most exotic aircraft on the planet but during testing and early in its career, just for the engines to start it relied on a pair of even then technologically bankrupt Buick Nailhead V8s.  These were mounted in a towed cart and were effectively the turbojet’s starter motor, a concept developed in the 1930s as a work-around for the technology gap which emerged as the V12 aero-engines became too big to start by hand but lacked on-board electrical systems to trigger ignition.  The two Nailheads were connected by gears to a single, vertical drive shaft which ran the jet up to the critical speed at which ignition became self-sustaining.  The engineers chose the Nailheads after comparing them to other large displacement V8s, the aspect of the Buicks which most appealed being the torque generated at relatively low engine speeds, a characteristic ideal for driving an output shaft, torque best visualized as a "twisting" force.  After the Nailhead was retired in 1966, later carts used Chevrolet big-block V8s but in 1969 a pneumatic start system was added to the infrastructure of the USAF bases from which the SR-71s most frequently operated, the sixteen-cylinder carts relegated to secondary fields the planes rarely used.

Jelly

Jelly (pronounced jel-ee)

(1) A food preparation of a soft, elastic consistency due to the presence of gelatin, pectin etc, especially fruit juice boiled down with sugar and used as a sweet spread for bread and toast, as a filling for cakes or doughnuts etc.

(2) A preserve made from the juice of fruit boiled with sugar and used as jam (jam the preferred term in much of the English-speaking world outside North America).

(3) Any object or substance having a jelly-like consistency.

(4) A fruit-flavored gelatin dessert (in the English–speaking world but less common in North America where “jello” or “jell-o” are preferred).

(5) A “jelly shoe”, a plastic sandal or shoe, often brightly colored.

(6) To bring or come to the consistency of jelly.

(7) In theatre, film & television production, the informal term for a colored gelatin filter which can be fitted in front of a stage or studio light.

(8) A slang term for the explosive gelignite.

(9) In Caribbean (Jamaica) English, a clipping of jelly coconut.

(10) A savory substance, derived from meat, with a similar texture to the sweet dessert (the gelatinous meat product also known as aspic).

(11) In the slang of zoology, a jellyfish.

(12) In slang (underworld & pathology), blood, especially in its congealed state.

(13) In slang, an attractive young woman; one’s girlfriend (US, probably extinct).

(14) The large backside of a woman (US, now rare).

(15) In internet slang, a clipping of jealous (rare).

(16) In Indian use, a vitrified brick refuse used as metal in road construction.

(17) As “royal jelly”, a substance secreted by honey bees to aid in the development of immature or young bees, supplied in extra measure to those young destined to become queen bees.

1350–1400: From the Middle English jelyf, gelly, gelye, gelle, gelee, gele & gely (semisolid substance from animal or vegetable material, spiced and used in cooking; chopped meat or fish served in such a jelly), from the Old French gelee (frost; frozen jelly), a noun use of feminine past participle of geler (to set hard; to congeal), from the Medieval Latin gelāta (frozen), from gelu (frost), the construct being gel- (freeze) + -āta (a noun-forming suffix).  The Classical Latin verb gelō (present infinitive gelāre, perfect active gelāvī, supine gelātum) (I freeze, cause to congeal; I frighten, petrify, cause to become rigid with fright) was from gelū (frost), from the primitive Indo-European gel- (cold) and was cognate with the Ancient Greek γελανδρόν (gelandrón).  Originally quite specific, by the early fifteenth century jelly was used of any jellied or coagulated substance and by the 1700s it came to mean also "thickened juice of a fruit prepared as food" which was both a form of preserving fruit and a substance used by chefs for flavoring and decorative purposes.  The adjective jellied (past-participle from the verb jelly) emerged in the 1590s with the sense of “of the consistency of jelly” and by the late nineteenth century this had been extended to include “sweetened with jelly”.  Because of the close historical association with foods, the preferred adjectival form for other purposes is jelly-like.  As a modifier jelly has proved productive, the forms including jelly baby, jelly bag, jellybean, jelly coat, jelly doughnut, comb jelly, jelly bracelet, jelly plant & royal jelly.  Jelly is a noun & verb, jellify & jellification are nouns, jellified & jellied are verbs & adjectives and jellying is a verb; the noun plural is jellies.

Aunger "jelly bean" aluminum wheels, magazine advertisement, 1974.  A design popular in the 1970s, different manufacturers used their own brand-names but colloquially the style was known as the “jellybean”, “slotted” or “beanhole”.  The advertisement appeared during the brief era in Australia between rigorous censorship and restrictions imposed by feminist critiques of the objectification of women's bodies.  

The verb jell (assume the consistence of jelly) is documented since 1869 and was a coining of US English, doubtlessly as a back-formation from the noun jelly.  The figurative use (organizations, ideas, design etc) emerged circa 1908 but with the spelling gel, a echo of the Middle English gelen (congeal) which was extinct by the late fifteenth century.  The jellyfish (also jelly-fish) was in the late eighteenth century a popular name of the medusa and similar sea-creatures, the name derived from the soft structure.  Figuratively, jellyfish was used from the 1880s for “a person of weak character” although publications from 1707 use the name for an actual vertebrate fish.  In what ichthyologists say is induced by a combination of (1) over-fishing, (2) rising ocean temperatures, (3) the increasing acidification of the water and (4) coastal areas becoming more nutrient-rich because of sewage run-off or agricultural waste, jellyfish numbers are increasing at a remarkable rate.  Although certain species are a delicacy in some Asian countries, the demand is a faction of the increasing supply and the scope for harvesting jellyfish for other purposes (pet food, fertilizers etc) remains limited.  In restaurants, jellyfish will sometimes be seen on menus but it's thus far a niche item.  The problem is not merely ecological because jellyfish exist in vast swarms and have sometimes been "sucked into" the under-water cooling ducts of nuclear power-plants and nuclear-powered warships, on several occasions temporarily disabling the machinery, rectification a time-consuming and expensive exercise.  The USN (US Navy) discovered the problem during the "jellyfish incident" in which an aircraft carrier, docked in a Japanese port, suffered a reactor shutdown following an ingestion of the troublesome fish.  To date therefore, jellyfish have proved more disruption to the navy's carrier group operations than then best-laid plans of any ayatollah.  Whether the jellyfish will emerge as a cheap and plentiful protein source (as the jellied eel became in eighteenth century England) remains to be seen. 

Jellied eels: According to one reviewer in London, it may be an acquired taste.

The dish jellied eel began in eighteenth century England as a cheap meal which provided a good protein-source for the working class.  Traditionally served cold, it was made with chopped eels boiled in a flavoured (there were many variants) stock which was left to cool, forming a jelly.  Because European eels were once common in the Thames and easily caught in bulk, for two centuries jellied eel was a staple for the poor and often served with mashed potato and ale but tastes change and the expanded industrial production of food, coupled with the ability to ship commodities world-wide at little more than marginal cost saw a rapid decline in the dish’s popularity in the post-war years.  Paradoxically, jellied eel is now an often quite expensive item sold in up-market delicatessens and the European eel has become an endangered species with smuggling to markets in Asia in the hands of organized crime.         

The jelly roll.

The jelly roll (also as jelly-roll) was a “cylindrical cake containing jelly or jam” which dates from 1873 and in some markets (notably Australia & New Zealand) was sold as a “jam roll” or “Swiss Jam Roll”.  The use of jelly roll as slang for both the vagina and the act of sexual intercourse was of African-American origin circa 1914 and was mentioned several times in blues music, one critic noting it appeared to be used more frequently in the derived fork “talking blues”.  The jellybean (also (rarely) jelly-bean) (small bean-shaped, multi-colored sugar candy with a firm shell and a thick gel interior) was introduced in 1905, the name obviously from the shape.  It entered US slang in the 1910s with the sense of “someone stupid; a half-wit” which was apparently the source of the slang sense of bean as “head”.

Once were jelly rolls: 1967 Mercedes-Benz 600 (with Biskuitrolles (jam rolls) or Nackenrolles (neck rolls), left), 1969 Mercedes-Benz 600 (with “croissants” or “rabbits ears”, centre) and 1990 Mercedes-Benz 560 SEL (with boring “headrests”, right).

The shape of the jelly roll was noted by Germans when Mercedes-Benz introduced their Kopfstütze (literally “head support” although in the factory’s technical documents the design project was the Kopfstützensystem (head restraint system)) when the 600 (W100, 1963-1981) was displayed at the 1963 Frankfurt Motor Show, the early cars having only a rear-pair as standard equipment (there was an expectation many 600s would be chauffeur-driven) with the front units optional but the hand-built 600 could be ordered with one, two, three or four Kopfstützen (or even none although no 600s seem to have been ordered so-configured).  In the early press reports the shape was described with a culinary reference, comparisons made with a Biskuitrolle mit Marmelade (jam filled sponge roll) and the baker’s jargon was again used in 1969 when the design was revised, the critics deciding the new versions look like croissants although in the English-speaking world “rabbits ears” was preferred which was much more charming.  Uncharmed, the humorless types at the factory continued to call them teilt (split) or offener Rahmen (open-frame).   

1996 Ford Taurus Ghia (left) and 1996 Ford EF Falcon XR8 (right).

In the 1990s, jellybean was the (usually disparaging) term often applied to the depressingly similarly-shaped cars which were the product of wind-tunnels; while aerodynamically efficient, few found the lines attractive.  In 1996, Ford Australia put the US-sourced Taurus into the showrooms alongside the locally-built and well-received EF Falcon.  As well as carrying the stigma of FWD (front wheel drive), the Taurus's “jellybean” styling alienated buyers, some of whom suggested the it looked as if it was awaiting repairs having suffered an accident.  The Taurus was withdrawn from the Australian market after two years of dismal sales, dealers managing to clear to unsold stock only after a further season of heavy discounting.

Champagne Jelly

Champagne Jelly was served at the coronation banquet of Edward VII (1841–1910; King of the United Kingdom and Emperor of India 1901-1910) in 1902 and has since been a popular “nostalgia” dish, seen often at weddings or seasonal celebrations.

Ingredients (to serve six)

1 750 ml bottle of champagne
2 sachets (2½ tsp each) powdered gelatin (or 8 gelatin sheets)
2 tablespoons water (if using powdered gelatin)
115g (4 oz) white sugar
Berries and/or edible flowers (optional)
Fresh mint leaves, for garnish

Instructions

(1) Place champagne bottle in a freezer 30 minutes before beginning preparation (this will ensure jelly will retain the bubbles).

(2) In a small bowl, sprinkle the powdered gelatin (if using), over the water and let stand until softened (typically 3-5 minutes).  If using gelatin sheets, put sheets into a bowl and cover with cold water, soaking until floppy (typically 5-10 minutes).

(3) Open champagne and pour 120 ml into a small pan.  Return corked champagne to freezer, ensuring bottle remains upright.  If this is not possible, put bottle into fridge in upright position.

(4) Add the sugar to the pan, place over a medium heat, and heat, stirring, until the sugar dissolves at which point, remove from heat.  Liquefy the powdered gelatin by setting the bowl of softened gelatin into a larger bowl of very hot tap water (do not use boiling water).

(5) If using gelatin sheets, lift the sheets from the water, wring to release excess water, then put them into a bowl and liquefy as for the powdered gelatin.  Add the liquefied gelatin to the champagne mixture and stir until the gelatin dissolves.

(6) Strain the mixture through a fine sieve into a bowl or pitcher, then allow to cool to room temperature.

(7) Add 480 ml of chilled champagne to the cooled gelatin mixture and stir well.  If adding berries or edible flowers, pour half of the gelatin mixture into a 600 ml (1 pint) mould and chill until almost set (typically 30-45 minutes).  Arrange the embellishments on top, then add the remaining gelatin mixture.

(8) If serving the jelly without embellishments, pour all the gelatin mixture into the mould.  Cover and refrigerate until fully set (at least 12 hours and preferably longer).  At this point drink remaining champagne; if need be, open a second bottle.

(9) To serve, fill a bowl with hot water.  Dip the bottom of the mould into the hot water for a few seconds to loosen the jelly from the mould, then place on a serving plate and garnish with mint.

Lindsay Lohan, New York City, November 2022.

Lindsay Lohan in November 2022 appeared on ABC’s Good Morning America to promote the Netflix movie, Falling for Christmas.  What caught the eye was her pantsuit in a gallimaufry of colors from Law Roach’s (b 1978) Akris’ fall 2022 ready-to-wear collection, the ensemble including a wide-lapelled jacket, turtleneck top and boot cut pants fabricated in a green, yellow, red & orange Drei Teile print in an irregular geometric pattern.  Whether the color combination was inspired by champagne jelly wasn't discussed and the distinctive look was paired with a similarly eclectic combination of accessories, chunky gold hoop earrings, a crossbody Anouk envelope handbag, and Giuseppe Zanotti platform heels.  The enveloping flare of the trousers concealed the shoes which was a shame because, while hardly original, the Giuseppe Zanotti (b 1957) bebe-style pumps in gloss metallic burgundy leather deserved to be seen, distinguished by 2 inch (50 mm) soles, 6-inch (150 mm) heels, an open vamp, rakish counters and surprisingly delicate ankle straps.  The stylist's desire for the hem of the trousers to reach to the ground is noted but the shoes were nice pieces.  The fashion critics are a tough and unforgiving crew and it can be hard to predict which way they'll jump but the collective reaction was positive.