Melon

Melon (pronounced mel-uhn)

(1) Any of various plants of two cucurbitaceous vines (the gourd family) including the watermelon, muskmelon etc.  Variations include Genus Cucumis (various musk melons, including honeydew, cantaloupes, and horned melon); Genus Citrullus (watermelons and others); Genus Benincasa (winter melon); Genus Momordica (a bitter melon).

(2) The fruit of any of these plants.

(3) A color ranging between a medium crimson and a deep pink, noted for the orange tinge.

(4) In zoology, the visible upper portion of the head of a surfacing whale or dolphin, including the beak, eyes, and blowhole (a mass of adipose tissue used to focus and modulate vocalizations).

(5) In the slang of (mostly North American) financial markets, an especially large additional dividend (often in the form of stock) distributed to stockholders (often as “cut a melon”).

(6) By extension, any windfall of money to be divided among specified beneficiaries.

(7) In slang, the breasts of the human female (almost always in the plural).  The alternative slang is "chest melons" and a woman generously endowed can be dubbed melonious.

(8) In slang, the head; the skull.  Those deemed vague or of limited intelligence dubbed "melon heads".

(9) In slang, a derogatory term for members of a green political party, or similar environmental groups (rare and mostly Australia & New Zealand).

1350–1400: From the Middle English meloun & melon (herbaceous, succulent trailing annual plant or its sweet, edible fruit), from the Old Portuguese (via the thirteenth century Old French melon) melon, from the Late Latin melonem & mēlōn- (stem of mēlō and a shortening of mēlopepō (the “gourd apple”, a large apple-shaped melon)), from the Ancient Greek μηλοπέπων (mēlopépōn) (large apple-shaped melon), the construct being μηλο (mêlo(n)) (apple) + πέπων (pépōn) (ripe), from πέπτω (péptō) (to ripen).  Confusingly for historians seeking to reconstruct the recipes of Antiquity the Latin melopeponem was a kind of pumpkin while the Greek mēlopepon (gourd-apple) was applied to several kinds of gourds bearing sweet fruit, the origin of that in the noun use of pépōn (ripe) distinguishing the fruit on the vine ready for harvest from those yet to ripen.  As a modifier, melon is appended as appropriate (based on color, shape, diet, environmental niche, habitat etc) including melon beetle, melon cactus, Melon rugose mosaic virus, melon thistle & melon-headed.  The best known is probably the watermelon, dating from the 1610s and so named for their high content of water-like juice; in French, the more pleasing term is melon d'eau.  Melonade is a (non-alcoholic) drink made from melons while the (definitely alcoholic) melontini is a martini cocktail made with melon.  The adjective melonic is unrelated to melons and is used in chemistry to mean "of or pertaining to a type of complex heterocyclic triazine related to melem".  Melem is the heptazine (a certain chemical compound) with three amino substituents.  Melon is a noun & adjective and melonious, melony, melonous & melonlike are adjectives; the noun plural is melons.

The Cold War won, in 1992, Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 and POTUS 1969-1974) returned to Moscow, a place more than once he’d visited as an adversary.  Visiting the markets, he bought a juicy melon.

Being prolific and undemanding to grow, melons were among the earliest plants domesticated and in Greek, “melon” was used in a generic way for many foreign fruits, a fate which would also befall "apple", thus the naming of the pineapple and in some Old English texts, cucumbers are referred to as eorþæppla (literally "earth-apples"), the deductive process that produced the French pomme de terre (potato (literally “earth-apple”)), the French pomme from the Latin pomum (apple; fruit).  Apple was from the Old English æppel (apple; any kind of fruit; fruit in general), from the from Proto-Germanic ap(a)laz (source also of the Old Saxon, Old Frisian & Dutch appel, the Old Norse eple, the Old High German apful & the German Apfel), from the primitive Indo-European ab(e)l- (apple), (source also of the Gaulish avallo (fruit), the Old Irish ubull, the Lithuanian obuolys, & the Old Church Slavonic jabloko (apple)) but etymologists caution the original sense of these and their relationship(s) to what is now understood as “an apple” is uncertain.  In Middle English, as late as the seventeenth century (even the earliest compliers of recipe books aren’t always explicit so some reverse-engineering based on supposition has been undertaken), it was a generic term for all fruit other than berries but including nuts (such as Old English fingeræppla (dates (literally "finger-apples) and the late fourteenth century Middle English appel of paradis (banana (literally apple of paradise)).

The twenty-first century judgment of Paris: Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, left), Britney Spears (b 1981, centre) & Paris Hilton (b 1981, right) reprise Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite, New York City, 29 November, 2006.  The car was a Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren Coupé (C199, 2003-2010) leased by Ms Hilton.  It was a paparazzi photo from this moment used in the infamous "Bimbo Summit" headline by Rupert Murdoch's (b 1931) New York Post. 

That generality of meaning saw “apple” named as the fruit with which the serpent tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden, leading to the downfall of man and creating the original sin with which we’ve all since been damned.  The Biblical apportionment of blame to Eve has been held by feminists to account for at least some of the oppression suffered by women for the last two millennia.  However, the “fruit of the forbidden tree” was unspecified in the original texts of the Book of Genesis and, despite the wishful thinking of a few, in Biblical scholarship there’s no support for the notion the fruit was even hinted at being an appel of paradis, however appropriate, given the context, a nice plump banana might seem.  Nor is the forbidden fruit explicitly mentioned in the Holy Quran but according to traditional Islamic commentaries, it was not an apple but wheat.  The Prophet may not have been concerned but in Greek mythology there was the μῆλον τῆς Ἔριδος (Golden Apple of Discord) in the story of the Judgment of Paris which the goddess Ἔρις (Eris) (Strife), tossed in the midst of the feast of the gods at the wedding of Peleus and Thetis as a prize of beauty, thus sparking a vanity-fueled dispute among Hera, Athena and Aphrodite; it was that squabble that triggered the Trojan War.  Eris was the goddess of chaos and discord who (perhaps unsurprisingly), having not received a wedding invitation, was miffed and inscribed kallisti (To the prettiest one) on her “wedding gift” handing it to Πάρις (Paris, AKA Ἀλέξανδρος (Aléxandros) (Alexander), the son of King Priam and Queen Hecuba of Troy) who was told to choose the goddess he found most beautiful.  Judging what turned out to be one of Antiquity's more significant beauty contests, Paris chose Aphrodite, offending Hera and Athena, the most famous consequence of their feud being the Trojan War.  Tragedy did thereafter stalk the marriage of Peleus and Thetis; of their seven sons, the only one to survive beyond infancy was Achilles.

Cookmaid with Still Life of Vegetables and Fruit (circa 1620-1625), oil on canvas by Sir Nathaniel Bacon (1585–1627).

Beginning probably in Holland in the early seventeenth century and apparently first painted by Pieter Aertsen (circa 1533-circa 1573) "cookmaid and market scenes" was a genre in painting combining representations of produce and kitchens with themes often borrowed from the New Testament.  Two other examples of Sir Nathaniel's works in this vein are known still to exist: (1) Cookmaid with Still Life of Game and (2) Cookmaid with Still Life of Birds, both featuring healthy young ladies and there is obviously some artistic license in Cookmaid with Still Life of Vegetables and Fruit given that although every piece of produce depicted was at the time grown somewhere in England, not all simultaneously would have been in season.  Sir Nathaniel's lengthy title was too much for many, clipped often to the punchier "Maid with Melons".  This slang use of "melons" (ie female breasts) is listed by many dictionaries as “vulgar” or “mildly vulgar” but does travel with the vague respectability of a classical origin: In Antiquity the plural of the Greek melon (μῆλα) (mela) was used for “a girl's breasts” and in that tradition, in her youth, Lady Helen Taylor (née Windsor; b 1964 and a great-granddaughter of George V (1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India 1910-1936)) was nicknamed “melons”.  In the line of succession to the British throne, Lady Helen comes in at number 49. 

Juicy Melons, Euston Station, London.

The world record price for a pair of juicy melons was set in May 2026 when a two “premium crown melons”, grown on Japan's northern main island of Hokkaido, realized ¥5.8 million yen (US$36,500) at the season’s first auction in Sapporo, Hokkaido, Japan; the result beat the previous mark of ¥5 million, achieved in 2019.  Although doubtlessly succulent, the prized examples were purchased not only for their taste but also as a promotional device, the successful bidder a Kushiro-based fruit and vegetable wholesaler who sold them to a supermarket where they would be “placed on display”.  Large, juicy melons should of course be put "on display"; everybody knows that, 

A cantaloupe as one would appear in most of the world (left) and a rockmelon down under (right).

Globalization has to some extent standardized in the English language spellings and meanings once disparate, sometimes reversing the trend towards diversity noted as one of the linguistic effects of the British Empire, especially in India under the Raj where the British pillaged the local languages with only slightly less enthusiasm than they showed for gold, diamonds and such.  However, the names of food seem often resistant to change, presumably most often where forms are well-established and supplied by local production.  Thus what is in some places eggplant is elsewhere the aubergine.  It’s also a melon matter because in Australia, what most of the world knows as the cantaloupe (from the French cantaloup, from the Italian place name Cantalupo, a former Papal summer estate near Rome, where the melons were first grown after being introduced to Europe from the Middle East), is called the rockmelon (occasionally rock-melon) and the antipodean quirkiness is not unique, the cantaloupe in some places called “sweet melon” or “Crenshaw melon” while in South Africa where it’s not uncommon to see fruit-stalls side-by-side, one selling cantaloupes and the other spanspeks (from the Afrikaans Spaanse spek (literally “Spanish bacon”)).  The Australian use, once deconstructed, does make sense in that a cantaloupe does (vaguely) resemble (some) rocks and has a "hard skin" but the case seems not compelling, cantaloupe a much more attractive word.  Visiting foodies will be gratified Australians follow the rest of the world when it comes to the honeydew (or honey-dew) melon, the name from the late sixteenth century honeydew (sticky sweet substance found in small drops on trees and plants), a replication of the formations in the Dutch honigdaauw and the German Honigthau.  That melon was first named in 1916 when selective breeding produced a cross between the cantaloupe and a melon native to southern African.

Anthony Albanese, shaggate & melongate

Applied kinesics: Linguists and anthropologists call the use of hand gestures as an accompaniment to speech (much associated with Italians): “gesticulations”.  Mr Albanese gesticulates (left) and Nova’s promotional banner for Nikki Osborne’s “Bushie” persona on Bush Deep (right).

Politics is unpredictable but even in the long tradition of "storm in a tea cup" scandals, few would have expected melons to play a role although, delightfully, Anthony Albanese (b 1963; prime-minister of Australia since 2022) managed a "storm in a D-cup".  Melongate was the result of the second of Mr Albanese's gaffes while in July 2026 appearing in the Bush Deep podcast.  Interviewed by comedian Nikki Osborne, he was asked to play the “shag, marry, date” game, three Australian females from pop culture (singer Kylie Minogue (b 1968), actor Nicole Kidman (b 1967) & singer Rhonda Burchmore (b 1960)) offered as his options.  He started well by mentioning he was “newly married” (to his second wife) but Ms Osborne was tenacious and after boxing him into admitting “Kylie, clearly”, managed to press him into saying (with a slight giggle): “all of the above” (that apparently in answer to: “You’d marry Kylie? And shag her? And date her?” rather than thoughts of intimacy with all three nominees but Ms Osborne, seeming pleased, did conclude: "all right, a triple" so who knows?).  The public reaction wasn’t good (although muted compared with what would have been the outrage had the remarks been made by a conservative) and quickly his office issued a one-line statement: “I apologise unequivocally for the comments”.  Educated by the Congregation of Christian Brothers (a branch of the Roman Catholic Church), the Australian arm of which was dissolved after shifting the bulk of its assets to a related but legally separate entity to protect them from civil litigation brought by victims child sexual abuse by Christian Brothers), Mr Albanese (selectively) operates on the church's long-established principle of “confess and be forgiven”.  What he should have done was make the joke one of self-deprecation, telling his host a more interesting question would be to ask the trio if any of them would contemplate shagging him and all three were anyway “too good for him”.  His second wife, by now well-acquainted with politics, would have forgiven him.

Pampered crown melons in a Shizuoka hothouse.

It turned out to be an eventful podcast because he also told the tale of meeting Sanae Takaichi san (b 1961, Prime Minister of Japan since 2025) during her Australian visit in May 2026.  Knowing a comedian would likely be not interested in trade negotiations or maritime boundaries in the South China Sea, he instead described his surprise when presented with the gift of a pair of crown melons, a fruit grown only in the western region of Japan's Shizuoka Prefecture.  The nation’s most exalted and expensive melons, farmers tending the vines in climate-controlled greenhouses each season cut away all but the most obviously fecund bud so each plant’s energy & nutrients feed a single fruit, ensuring “perfect melons”.  Understandably, crown melons are a gift presented to someone as a mark of respect or appreciation, often in the intricately constructed packaging famously used in Japan for goods from sandwiches to stilettos.  Mr Albanese described the gift as “strange” but said he found them “quite good”.  While it's not reasonable to expect him to have been aware of the cultural significance in Japan of a fruit he’d have associated with the Aus$3.99 item familiar in Australian supermarkets, his office presumably was informed so it was bad staff work he wasn’t briefed on what to say.  An additional reason for the choice of gift was to mark the “delectably honey-sweet” melons now being exported (tariff-free) to Australia.

Pamela Anderson (mostly real) on the cover of Playboy magazine, November 1994.

Things got worse.  Ms Osborne likened the melons to Canadian-US actor Pamela Anderson (b 1967) which must have amused Mr Albanese because almost instinctively he raised his hands to his chest and, making a cupping gesture, observed: “She brought two… as you do”.  There was laughter in the recording studio and it would have been a good joke in the locker room of the South Sydney Rabbitohs (the NRL (National Rugby League) club the prime minister takes every opportunity to remind the country he supports) but as the clip went around the world, he’d have understood he’d put his foot in it… again.  Well into the twenty-first century, it might be assumed politicians would by now be adept in handling the “new media” (social media, podcasts and such) but, beyond a certain age, many remain uncertain and often make the worst mistake of all: trying very hard to be “authentic” which is, of course, recognized instantly as “inauthentic”.  Politicians have before had to attempt to master “changes in platforms”.  In the nineteenth century, it was the shift from speeches being made on the floors of parliaments to public meetings; early in the twentieth it was the advent of radio (a medium better mastered by George V (1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India 1910-1936) than most of his ministers), then in the post-war world it was television.  Social media & podcasts are just the latest “shock of the new” and hopefully the ALP’s operatives will arrange additional training.  Still, something good did come from the interview: Ms Osborne learning the Japanese prime minister is female.  As the first woman ever to gain the office, there had in 2025 been extensive international coverage of her accession but presumably that was something crowded out of Ms Osborne's news-feeds by the algorithms selecting matters of greater interest such as Ariana Grande's (b 1993) weight or Kylie Jenner's (b 1997) new hairstyle.

Lord Voldemort, played in this scene by Ralph Fiennes (b 1962).

Making the “melons quip” was a bit hypocritical because it hadn’t long before that Mr Albanese had issued a schoolmasteresque rebuke to a member of his shadow cabinet (Tanya Plibersek b 1969), saying she’d made “a mistake” in likening the Liberal Party’s Peter Dutton (b 1970; leader of the Liberal Party of Australia 2022-2025) to the villainous Lord Voldemort in the film adaptations of the Harry Potter children’s books.  Had the comparison been one of their political philosophy or methods (something that might still be worth pursuing) it would have been OK but in saying “I think there will be a lot of children who have watched a lot of Harry Potter films who will be very frightened of what they are seeing on TV at night” it did seem she was commenting on some physical similarity.  Asked to clarify, she said: “I am saying he looks a bit like Voldemort.  We will see whether he can do what he promised he would do when he was last running for leader, which is smile more.”  Perhaps sensing danger, she added: “I am just saying he is not the warm and friendly face of the Liberal party and, if this last election taught us anything, it taught us that the Liberal party has moved too far to the extremes of politics.”  Before long, a statement was issued from Ms Plibersek’s office saying she had “reached out” to Mr Dutton “unreservedly” to apologize, adding she acknowledged the remark should not have been made.  Mr Albanese went further, saying: “It was a mistake.  It shouldn’t have been said, we all make mistakes from time to time.  What we need to do is to move on from them and it is how we respond to them.  Tanya Plibersek responded appropriately. Tanya Plibersek did the right thing by apologising.  We should not refer to people’s appearance.”

Mr Dutton at Mr Boswell’s funeral.

Mr Dutton called the comments “unfortunate” but said they were “water off a duck’s back” and there was no need for politicians to be “nasty and mean”, concluding the affair by saying “I’m not the prettiest bloke on the block but I hope that I’m going to be pretty effective.”  Students of political phraseology enjoyed that last remark, the original used by John Howard (b 1939; Prime Minister of Australia 1996-2007) as an election campaign hook for the not at all photogenic Queensland National Party’s Senator Ron Boswell (1940–2026; senator for Queensland 1983-2014): “He may not be pretty but he’s pretty effective”.  That worked well and, in retirement, Mr Boswell wrote his memoirs, published as Ron Boswell: Not Pretty, But Pretty Effective (2023).  As leader of the opposition, Mr Dutton’s effectiveness was limited, suffering the ignominy of losing his own seat in parliament at the 2025 general election in which the Liberal party suffered its worst defeat since formation in 1944.  During the campaign, Mr Dutton limited his media appearances mostly to Mr Murdoch’s Sky News (now re-branded News24) where he could be asked “helpful” questions by other right-wing fanatics, the exchanges enjoyed by the channel’s small audience of the already converted, the only sceptical faction of which complained Mr Dutton was “not conservative enough”.  Had he dabbled in the anarchic world(s) of the Tiktokers and podcasters things might have been worse still so his handlers were right to “draw the line somewhere”.

The photogenic TERF Katherine Deves (left) and that tweet (right).

Mr Albanese’s reaction to the brief “Plibersek-Voldemort-Dutton affair” must have been something of a special case.  Although there are some things he’s done his best to forget (hoping others will do the same), otherwise his memory is typically ALP-sharp and he certainly remembered the occasions when Ms Plibersek told people she rather than him would have won the ballot for the party leadership had she chosen to contest.  Had a close factional ally pointed out Mr Dutton’s resemblance to Lord Voldemort, Mr Albanese’s reaction might have been limited to a quite chat (over a beer and a laugh) rather than a public censuring.  Sadly, the one who seemed to receive no sympathy was Lord Voldemort who was slighted by being called, by implication, “Duttonesque”; surely he had as much right to be offended by the comparison.  Amusingly, even within the Liberal Party, there are those who have seen the resemblance and commented.  Lawyer Katherine Deves (b 1978) is a (self-described) TERF (trans-exclusionary radical feminist) with a cult-following in the party and on Twitter (now X) on 1 December, 2021, while watching the televised proceedings of parliament, she tweeted: “New speaker [presiding officer of the House of Representatives] …struggles to keep order as Albo [Mr Albanese, then leader of the opposition) …calls Voldemort [Mr Dutton, then minister of defence] …‘boof head’”  The tweet has since been deleted.

Harold Macmillan (1894–1986; UK prime-minister 1957-1963, left) being shown the Sinclair ZX Spectrum home computer by Sir Clive Sinclair (1940–2021, right), London, 1984.

Old Harold Macmillan had his problems with women (being bi-sexual, he may not have been wholly blameless for his wife’s infidelity) but was fortunate to be prime minister during the last days when journalists were still deferential towards politicians (at least until they smelled blood in the water).  Clearly, at least in his dealings with the press, he’d led a sheltered life because in his memoirs he compared the still polite English journalists to the breed he encountered in Australia during his Commonwealth tour (Jan-Feb 1958), noting they were as capable as the bowlers in the nation’s cricket team of “sending down a few fast deliveries”.  By the standards of 2026 the questions he received (and played mostly with a straight bat although there was the occasional square cut) would be thought “tame” and while it can’t be certain how the old Etonian would have handled TikTokers, podcasters and YouTubers, he’d doubtlessly have been appalled and thought them all vulgarians to be avoided.

Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi san: In what was obviously a misspent youth, she was a drummer in a heavy metal band and still sometimes "picks up the sticks".  A Deep Purple (a heavy metal band formed in 1968) fan-girl, she got to meet the band during their 2026 tour of Japan. 

Mr Albanese probably wishes he could avoid appearances on the “new media” but knows a significant chunk of those with a vote long ago tuned-out of the “old media” where he for decades honed to a high-level his skills of spin and obfuscation; his office also would prefer his appearances be restricted to “more easily managed” platforms but know they must play the cards dealt.  Those in his office take pride at being thought “political pros” but curiously, by August 2026 they appeared to have forgotten the wise adage from the Watergate affair (1972-1974) that claimed the scalp of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 and POTUS 1969-1974) that in politics what’s lethal: “is not the crime, it's the cover-up”.  Just returned from holiday, Mr Albanese “furiously denied” making a crude joke about Sanae Takaichi san’s ‘melons’ in the anyway notorious ‘shag Kylie Minogue’ interview.  At this point, rather than digging deeper, it would have been a better tactic to apologize and hope for forgiveness but Mr Albanese learned his stuff in the “non-Trotskyite” wing of the ALP’s Socialist Left faction in which “never apologize” was less a mantra than a way of life.  In what was described as a “terse statement” a spokeswoman for Mr Albanese denied the comments were a joke about prime ministerial mammary glands, stating: “This assertion is wrong.”  Unfortunately, the "damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead!" approach is a tactic and not a strategy, the efficacy of "plausible deniability" depending not on the term's second element but the first. 

So the seeking of forgiveness option (if “workshopped”) must have been discarded, the office instead opting for attack, an approach perhaps ill-advised because the spokeswoman was responding to a opinion piece (published in Mr Murdoch’s national daily The Australian) by Tokyo’s former ambassador to Canberra, Shingo Yamagami san (Japanese ambassador to Australia 2020-2023) that criticized the comments as “insulting”, speculating even that they may have damaged Sanae Takaichi san’s reputation: “However light-hearted it was intended to be, the recent joke delivered by prime minister Anthony Albanese at the expense of Japanese prime minister Sanae Takaichi is how he might be remembered by Japanese who most value the friendship with Australia.  It is a time for toiling and not for crude jokes at another’s expense.  So, prime minister, please enjoy Japan’s sweet and juicy melons without thinking about a woman’s anatomy, and instead focus on what our two countries must do together.”  As a former Director-General of the Intelligence and Analysis Service of the MoFA (Ministry of Foreign Affairs), Shingo Yamagami san was well-informed and concluded his opinion piece by reminding Mr Albanese of the special cultural significance of the revered fruit: “A crown melon is the most prized fruit in Japan and treasured as something special. Moreover, this particular fruit was painstakingly nurtured under intensive care in a special greenhouse. A single melon costs more than 30,000 yen (Aus$270).”  Translation: “Albo has gained melons but has lost face.”

Exhibit One: Shaggate.

While readers of The Australian mostly years ago made up their minds and concluded Mr Albanese is “a dud”, the reason Mr Murdoch continues to print and distribute the paper (despite large losses) is the content widely is reported on other media platforms (old and new) and while the influence is somewhat diminished, what appears can, on occasions, still “set the day’s agenda”.  However, it’s unlikely Shingo Yamagami san’s piece was written in an attempt to change many minds in Australia and was likely intended for “internal consumption” in Japan.  It’s improbable many Japanese voters would think their prime minister’s reputation much “damaged” by a foreign leader’s social ineptitude but, for a number of reasons (some geo-political but mostly economic), Sanae Takaichi san’s popularity has retreated from the stellar heights she enjoyed after assuming the presidency of the LDP (Liberal Democratic Party) and leading it to a stunning landslide in the 2026 general election (House of Representatives (lower house)) so the thought is the MoFA may have co-opted Shingo Yamagami san as a stalking horse to “muddy the waters”, seeking to exploit the “melons incident” for a bit of “blame-shifting”.  Of course, in diplomatic circles, it was hardly a secret Shingo Yamagami san was "not a big fan" of the ALP government and he may have been "freelancing"; certainly there's been from Tokyo no suggestion an apology has been sought or is expected and observers suspect "melongate" will be a "three day wonder" that vanishes once Mr Murdoch's journalists conclude the story is "going nowhere".

Exhibit Two: Melongate.

One who seemed gleefully to relish the opportunity to defend Mr Albanese against accusations of having violated his own instruction to her (“We should not refer to people’s appearance”) was Tanya Plibersek (an unlikely but energetic Sancho Panzo to Mr Albanese’s Don Quixote) who appeared on morning TV with Barnaby Joyce (b 1967; thrice (between local difficulties) deputy prime minister of Australia 2016-2022 and now a convert from the National Party to One Nation), the latter not previously noted for his feminist credentials.  Echoing her leader’s thoughts on the matter, Ms Plibersek said she thought the former ambassador was “…100 per cent wrong, and we have an excellent relationship with Japan.  I think the former ambassador is wrong in his interpretation.”  Now cast in the improbable role of the One Nation Party’s sole intellectual (he's a qualified accountant), Mr Joyce disagreed, saying it was “a really dangerous thing to say”, twisting the blade a little deeper by expressing some faux sympathy for his fellow panellist being bowled up to defend the indefensible: “I know you’re doing the best job you can on this, Tanya, but it’s just like the Kylie Minogue comment – completely wrong, completely trying to be clever. It wasn’t clever.  It just demeans the office of prime minister, and it certainly has created a massive problem with one of our major partners. I know in your heart, Tanya, you know it’s wrong.  Okay? And if you came out now and said, “Yeah, that was a stupid thing to say. You should have apologised for it. People say: ‘Tanya, it’s telling the truth.’”

Lay theologian Mr Joyce conjuring (with no apparent hint of irony) an impromptu encyclical on “truthfulness” was one of the more amusing episodes in the “melon incident”.  Undeterred by that surreal moment, Ms Plibersek maintained focus and insisted it was a “complete misinterpretation by the former ambassador”, unwisely adding: “People watching it for themselves can make their own minds up.”  Not one to miss a “full toss”, Mr Joyce responded: “They do, they do watch it, and they have made up their own mind.  And it is inappropriate.”  In cricketing terms, the English would have called that “being bowled a pie” (ie an “easy hit”) but anyway, Harold Macmillan politely would have applauded Mr Joyce's riposte through the slips to the boundary.

Cabriolet

Cabriolet (pronounced kab-ree-uh-ley)

(1) A light, two-wheeled, one-horse carriage with a folding top, capable of seating two persons.  It's from cabriolet the term "cab" (in the sense of taxi) was derived).

(2) An automobile based usually on a two-door coupé but with a folding top.

(3) The equivalent continental term for the (mostly UK) drophead coupé (DHC) or the more generic "convertible".

1766: From the French cabriolet, the construct being the Italian cabriole (horse caper) +‎ -et (the suffix here used in the sense of “smaller version”).  The Italian cabriole was from the Latin capreolus (wild goat), from the primitive Indo-European kápros (buck, he-goat) and related to the Old Norse hafr (he-goat), the Old English hæfr, the Welsh gafr and the Old Irish gabor.  The seemingly strange relationship between the Latin capreolus (roebuck; wild goat) and the eighteenth century horse-drawn carriage is explained by the French cabriole (little caper), the meaning derived from its light movement, from cabrioler (to leap, caper), from the Italian capriolare (to somersault), from the Latin capreolus (roebuck; wild goat), the idea being of something light and agile in movement.  The larger, more upscale version of the lightweight carriages the French named cabriolet, “cab” being the common form in the vernacular, picked up in English and used to this day, "cabbies" being "cab (taxi) drivers".  The –et suffix, indicating diminution or affection, was from Old French -et, and its feminine variant -ette, both derived from the Late Latin -ittus (and the other gender forms -itta, -ittum).  In English use, “cab” was picked up to describe the small carriages for hire in urban use and it was the descendants of these which became “taxicabs” when the French taximètres (automatic meter that records distance and fare) were adopted in the late 1890s, the word from the German Taxameter, from Taxanom, the construct based on Taxe (tax, charge or scale of charges), from the Medieval Latin taxa (tax, charge) + mètre.  Cabriolet is a noun, the noun plural is cabriolets.

1978 Cadillac Eldorado Cabriolet Astroroof.  The "Cabriolet Astroroof" (Option code CF5) added US$1565.00 over the Eldorado's base price of US$12401.00.  "Astroroof" was Cadillac's marketing term for a sunroof with a large, heavily tinted glass sliding panel.

The application of cabriolet to describe convertible cars emerged in the early years of the continental motor industry because of the conceptual similarity to the earlier, light, horse-drawn two-seater carriages but as the years went by, rapidly the industry retreated from the "terminological exactitude" stuck to by the coach-builders of the horse & buggy era.  The "carried over" nomenclature (cabriolet, landau, brougham etc) eventually became mere "model names" and what some styled a "cabriolet", others might call something else although usually "cabriolet" did imply some part of the roof could in some way be removed.  By 1977, GM (General Motors had decided that was a tiresome restriction and offered the "Cadillac Coupe DeVille Cabriolet d’Elegance" the rationale for the "cabriolet" element being the roof looked like it might be able to be lowered.  The structure was however fixed but the model sold well so for more than a decades Cadillac "cabriolets" appeared with solidly attached roofs.  Anyone looking up "cabriolet" in a dictionary may have been baffled but Cadillac owners knew what they wanted.

1979 Cadillac DeVille Custom Phaeton Coupe.  Those looking up "phaeton" may also have been mystified.

The 1977 venture may also have encouraged long model names because that trend persisted into the next century.  So what was used to describe the variations in convertible coachwork became something of the manufacturer's whim (except for the much later targa; Porsche had the foresight to register that as a trademark) and if a car was called a roadster, drophead coupé, phaeton, cabriolet or landau, it was an indication only that the roof could (usually) be removed or folded back.  In Detroit, the industry cheerfully used the historic names just as ways to impart "a certain association with something" and produced both "cabriolets" & "landaus" with fixed roofs and that trickery wasn't confined to the US, it being common practice in pre-war Europe for coupés to appear with non-functional "landau irons"; these were early "faux cabriolets".  One exception to that looseness was Daimler-Benz, the Germans tightly defining the specifications of roadsters and landaulets and, with Teutonic thoroughness, in the mid-twentieth century codified the five variations of Mercedes-Benz cabriolets as Cabriolet A, B, C, D & F (if ever there was a Cabriolet E, the factory’s definition has never surfaced).  With the fixed-roof two door bodies, "Coupé A" and "Coupé B" followed the same model (relating to seating & side windows).

Lindsay Lohan alighting from Porsche 911 Carrera (997) cabriolet, Los Angeles, 2012.

Being a German company, Porsche from its early years used "cabriolet" to describe its soft-top models although the Americans never really embraced the idea, habitually calling the open 356s "convertibles".  Strangely, Volkswagen owners in the US took to the term, "cabriolet" usually preferred for the Karmann-built soft-top Beetles, the cabriolet in 1979 the last of the classic (Type 1, 1938-2003) Beetles sold in the US.  After the targa (a word diligently trade-marked although Triumph in the UK had offered something similar (though more complex) with the "Surrey Top", available on the TR4 (1961-1967) & TR5 (1967-1968 (TR250 in the US market)) models were introduced, there was anyway a reason for Porsche to avoid "convertible" as being "imprecise"; at that point, in the Porsche ecosystem, there were "coupés" & "Targas".  The 1970s were, as a general principle not "convertible-friendly" but as that troubled decade ended, it became obvious the regulatory environment was not going to become as restrictive as had been feared and at the 1981 Frankfurt Motor Show, Porsche showed an AWD (all-wheel-drive) 911 cabriolet concept that was so well-received a 911 Cabriolet the next year was added to the line, the company's first "full convertible" since the last of the 356s (1948-1965).  Just to clarify things, the press were informed there were no "convertibles" in the range, just "coupés", "Targas" and "cabriolets".  Such had been the enthusiasm generated by the 1981 concept-car it was obvious it would enter series-production but, upon release, the company confirmed it would not include the AWD and nor would the body-style be available with a turbocharged engine.  The rationale for that was the rather patronizing" "People who drive cabriolets neither need nor want AWD and 300 HP (horsepower) engines".  Amusingly, in an example of the way that in commerce "the customer is always right", where, regardless of "need", where there's "want" (ie demand), supply tends to follow and both features eventually were made available with the cabriolet body.

Saint John Paul II (1920–2005; pope 1978-2005) in  Ferrari Mondial cabriolet while on a visit to the Ferrari test track, Fiorano, Italy, 4 June 1988.  This is believed to be the fastest ever Popemobile.

The term "cabriolet" has over the decades been applied to convertible Ferraris but a convention seems to have emerged that exclusively it's now used for four seaters (that the factory admits are really 2+2s).  The factory has had 2+2 cabriolets in the line-up for a while, most recently the California (2008-2017), Portofino (2017-2023), Roma (2020-2026) and Amalfi (since 2026) but those used a conventional front-engine layout.  The Mondial (1980-1993) was mid-engined, making the accommodation of four within the cabin quite challenging and critics noted one of the compromises imposed was aesthetic, the body lacking Ferrari's usually lovely, lithe lines, something said also of its 2+2 predecessor, the fixed-roof 208 & 308 GT4 (sold as both a Dino and a Ferrari).  However, the practicality of the Mondial had great appeal and it was at the time one of the the most successful Ferraris ever made.  It was also something of a turning point, much thought having been put into the design, not only to ensure one basic specification could be sold in all markets but also that the cost of ownership would be lower by simplifying the servicing routines.  It was much improved as the years went by and made in four distinct generations but Ferrari have not since attempted another mid-engined 2+2 (the configuration of the Roma & Amalfi sometimes described as "front mid-engine" but such things are not listed with the classic "mid-engined" machines, all of which have the power-plant mounted behind the driver).

The classification of cabriolets by Daimler-Benz

Cabriolet A coachwork: 1937 Mercedes-Benz 540K (left), 1958 Mercedes-Benz 300 SC (centre) & 2017 Mercedes Maybach 6 (right).

A cabriolet with two doors, no rear-quarter window and room for two passengers.  Occasionally, cabriolet As would be built with provision for one additional passenger, seated sideways behind the front seats, an arrangement the factory would late use in the "Pagoda" roadsters (W113, 1963-1971) until outlawed by increasingly stringent US safety regulations.  With Mercedes-Benz, the tradition of the cabriolet A in the big, open two-seat convertible would survive only until the 300 S & 300 SC (W188, 1951-1958) although in 2017, the one-off Mercedes-Maybach 6 Cabriolet was displayed, probably the most extravagantly self-indulgent "big" two-seater seen since the inter-war (1919-1939) years.  That was mitigated somewhat by the electric power-train but series production was never considered.

Cabriolet B coachwork: 1970 Mercedes-Benz 280 SE 3.5 (left), 1993 Mercedes-Benz 300 CE (centre) & 2017 Mercedes-AMG S 650 (right).  As the S 650 illustrates, while the use of CAD (computer aided design) and wind tunnels can make shapes more aerodynamically efficient, they doesn't guarantee they'll emerge as more elegant.   

A cabriolet with two doors and room for four or five passengers, fitted with a rear-quarter window for the rear seat.  Other than when interrupted by World War II (1939-1945) and its aftermath, the cabriolet B was long a staple of the Mercedes-Benz line-up but between 1972-1992 there was a hiatus, fears that impending US legislation would outlaw convertible sales in that lucrative market meaning no two door variations were constructed on the new S-Class (W116, 1972-1980) platform and no convertible versions of the successor S-Class coupé (C126, 1981-1990) or the smaller (what would now be called "E-Class") coupé (C123, 1976-1984) were ever offered (although some third party suppliers did offer conversions, Crayford in the UK even sourcing the soft-tops for their C123 cabriolets from 1973 Ford Mustangs in US wrecking yards!).  In those years, the R107 (1971-1989) roadster was the sole convertible available, its sales outside the US sufficient to maintain profitability if the ban eventuated.  As things turned out, the ban never was imposed and the cabriolet B returned in the form of the E-Class A124 (1991-1997).  The "smaller" Cabriolet Bs have since remained available although restricted after 2023 to the even smaller C-Class (A236) and the brief return of a "big" Cabriolet B (the A217 S-Class, 2015-2020) seems an experiment unlikely soon to be repeated.

The feared ban on convertibles in the US is an amusing tale of interest to political scientists and economists.  FMVSS (federal motor vehicle safety standards) 208 (roll-over protection) was published in 1970 and one obvious implication was the banning of “real” convertibles in the US market; while the local manufacturers went to court to challenge some of the provisions in FMVSS 208, they made no attempt to prevent the demise of the convertible, sales of the configuration having fallen to the point the body-style was no longer offered in most lines and even without the intervention of government it’s likely availability would anyway further have been restricted to the odd specialist product.  Indeed, Chevrolet, aware of the coming edict, had in 1968 released the coupe version of the third generation (C3) Corvette as a kind of targa (the so-called “T-top” with removable roof panels), the remaining structure essentially a “roll-bar” able to “drive through” FMVSS 208.

Compliant and not with FMVSS 208 as drafted: 1978 Chevrolet Corvette Coupe with T-Top roof (left) and 1978 Chrysler New Yorker, the last of the four-door hardtops (right).

As things turned out, there was a a lobbying effort by the AIA (Automobile Importers of America, a multi-national aggregation representing manufacturers from Europe, the UK and Japan making good profits from convertibles; indeed, some (notably MG) wholly were dependent on convertibles in the US market) to to gain exemptions because for many, even apart from the US-derived profits, it was the volumes achieved there that made viable continuation of the lines in other markets.  In an example of the way government and industry in the US interact (mostly through the mechanism of “campaign financing” with lobbyists as intermediaries), in 1971 the NHTSA (National Highway Traffic Safety Administration) granted a “temporary exemption” for convertibles from the rollover parameters, the "subset clause" set originally to expire on 31 August, 1977 (ie, the end of the 1977 model season), a date chosen because by then Detroit’s existing convertible lines were schedule to have reached their EoL (end of life).  The FMVSS 208 standards were otherwise maintained and that was what doomed to four-door hardtops which, lacking a central (B) pillar would have been prohibitively expensive to engineer into compliance.  However, late in 1972, an unexpected ruling from a federal court held FMVSS 208 existed under the provisions of the NTMVSA (National Traffic & Motor Vehicle Safety Act (1966)) and this was found to contain no statutory basis that could extend to the banning of convertibles: As explicitly the judgment stated, the act obligated the agency “to afford such vehicles special consideration.”  Detroit no more expected that than did the NHTSA but while the manufacturers were sanguine about no longer producing convertibles, the regulators were compelled to decide what to do about their regulation and, given Detroit’s attitude, they decided to "kick the can down the road" and simply extend the “temporary” exemption, nominating no end-date.  As does happen in politics, the "temporary" became "indefinite".

By the time the neo-liberal order began to take control in Washington after the election of Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; POTUS 1981-1989), the political zeitgeist shifted to a desire for "less" regulation and the exemption became "permanent", convertibles in the 1980s staging a comeback in the catalogues.  The indefinite extension of the "temporary exemption" of convertibles from FMVSS's roll-over standards created the curious anomaly that Chrysler could in theory have maintained a New Yorker convertible (had one existed) in production while being compelled to drop the four-door hardtop.  Market realities meant no Federal Court judge ever had to sit to resolve that and no manufacturer sought an exemption for the latter.  The last of the C3 (1968-1983) Corvette roadsters was produced in 1975, the style not revived in the line until a C4 (1984-1996) roadster was released in 1986.  Most relieved were the UK and European producers, their little roadsters highly profitable and perennially strong sellers in North America and while the AIA didn't get everything they asked for, they got convertibles and that allowed the life of many roadsters (some with roots in the 1950s) to be extended even into the mid-1990s by which time, in a sense, customers were buying "new vintage cars".        

1980 Mercedes-Benz 500 SLC.

The SLC (C107, 1971-1980) existed only because it was assumed convertible sales in the US would be banned so, with no S-Class, the "big coupé" role was fulfilled by the SLC, concocted by using a LWB (long wheelbase) version of the R107 roadster's platform with a rear seat and (non-pagoda) fixed roof.  Always expensive, the SLC sold well but it had also a career never envisaged when the product-planners were drawing-up the specifications; it was used as a rally car.  The big 450 SLC 5.0 (1977-1980) was one of the more improbable rally cars but it enjoyed success in long-distance events, in winning the Bandama Rally in Côte d'Ivoire an it's a footnote in the sport's history as the only V8-powered car to win a European rally; all 450 SLC 5.0s fitted with an automatic transmission which makes the thing more unusual still.        

Cabriolet C coachwork: 1937 Mercedes-Benz 540K (left), 1950 Jaguar Mark V Drophead Coupé (DHC) (centre) & 2020 Alvis TB60 DHC (continuation) (right).

A cabriolet with two doors and room for four or five passengers with no rear quarter window.  Most German manufacturers and virtually all coachbuilders kept the cabriolet C on the books throughout the inter-war period but in the post-war years, it was the British who did most to maintain the tradition, Bentley, Rolls-Royce, Daimler, Armstrong Siddeley and Alvis all offering the style and Alvis in 2018 actually re-commenced production of what they called their "continuation" series.  Unlike their latter day use by US manufacturers, the often fitted external "landau irons" genuinely were functional in the raising and lowering of the soft-top.  Thankfully, those "faux landau irons" no longer attract US designers but the motif endures in those building hearses with large expanses of sheet mental rather than glass, the devices to some extent disguising and "breaking up" what would otherwise be just "too much flat surface".  By contrast, on a cabriolet C, the expanse of fabric can lend elegance but one obvious drawback is the restricted visibility, the bulk creating blind-spots rearward, something to bring a wry smile to drivers of 1971 "Sportsroof" Ford Mustangs.

Cabriolet D coachwork: 1961 Mercedes-Benz 300d (left), 1967 Lincoln Continental (centre) & 2006 Mercedes-Benz Concept Ocean Drive (right). 

A cabriolet with four doors and room for four to six passengers.  Common in the 1930s, the four door convertible was rare by the mid 1950s and even Mercedes-Benz removed the 300c (W186, 1951-1957) Cabriolet D from the range when the 300d (W189, 1957-1962) was released in 1958.  However, although demand for such a machine was tiny, it wasn't non-existent and in 1959 it was announced the Cabriolet D would again be available to special order on the basis of POA (price on application), the cost depending on the specification requested; eventually, a further 65 were built.  That was the last of the line however and when "semi-convertible" coachwork was introduced for the 600 (der Grosser; W100, 1963-1981), the term "landaulet" was preferred and these came in two forms: (1) the so-called "short roof" in which the folding mechanism opened only over the rear-most section and (2) the (unofficially dubbed) "presidential", the fabric extending to the central partition (divider).  Other than a one-off on the SWB (short wheelbase) platform, there were 59 600 Landaulets, 12 of them the "presidential" version, two of which remain in the care of Kim Jong-Un (Kim III, b 1982; Supreme Leader of DPRK (Democratic People's Republic of Korea (North Korea)) since 2011) who inherited (along with the rest of the DPRK and its people) from his equally illustrious ancestors.  Apart from the mouth-watering Concept Ocean Drive displayed in 2006, the factory has never hinted such things might return and, apart from truck-like off-road machines, nor has any other manufacturer since the last convertible Lincoln Continental left the line in 1967.  Remembered also for its connection to the limousine in which President John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; POTUS 1961-1963) was assassinated, that association didn't dissuade his successor (Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; VPOTUS 1961-1963 and POTUS 1963-1969) from owning one but even LBJ's presidential imprimatur didn't sufficiently stimulate sales and the four-door convertible coachwork didn't appear for 1968.  They were the last convertibles ever built by Lincoln.

Cabriolet F Coachwork: 1939 Mercedes-Benz 770K (W150) (left), 1961 Lincoln Continental (X-100 by Hess & Eisenhardt) (centre) & 1966 Mercedes-Benz 600 Landaulet in four-door, short roof configuration (right, which is not really a cabriolet F). 

A cabriolet with four doors, built on an extended wheelbase, usually for state or formal use with room for six or more passengers.  The rare cabriolet Fs were almost exclusively state or parade vehicles (although as used cars, they've been sometimes imaginatively re-purposed in the secondary market) and are now effectively extinct, driven from the market by security concerns and the lack of appropriate new vehicles upon which they could be based.  Politicians now feel much safer in armored cars, built sometimes on a light-truck chassis and the ones used by US presidents are now essentially "armored cars disguised as traditional (ie 1980s) Cadillac limousines.

1966 Mercedes-Benz 300 SE (W112) Cabriolet.  Lots of chrome on the W112 although, such was the attention to detail, some of the brightwork was polished brass. 

In the collector-car market, the two-door Mercedes-Benz W111 (1961-1971) & W112 (1962-1967) remain coveted and, as is usually the case, it's the convertibles that are most sought, even though the cabriolet lacks the coupé's lovely roofline.  Pedants note that although the W111s & W112s are technically a Coupé B & Cabriolet B in the factory's naming system, they're never referred to as such because no other configuration was offered in the two-door iterations.  The W112 (300 SE) is of interest too because of the moldings around the wheel arches, a feature which seen on some earlier models and the 600 Grosser.  Criticized by some when they appeared on the 600, the additional brightness on the W112 wasn't to everyone's taste (and it was a "delete option" when new) but it clearly had an enduring appeal because for decades, after-market suppliers found a ready market among those with later model Mercedes-Benz, BMWs, Jaguars and some others.  This is not approved by the purists and whether in chrome, stainless steel or anodised plastic (!) it makes no difference: the originality police insist if it wasn't done by the factory, it shouldn't be done.  It was a W112 Coupé (that had failed quality control inspection and was due to be scrapped!) that provided the test bed for the installation of the 600's 6.3 litre (386 cubic inch) V8 in a smaller platform and such was the transformative effect the project was approved for series-production although Daimler-Benz management was not convinced there would be sufficient demand for the "hot-rod" as a coupé or cabriolet and insisted it be released exclusively in four-door form.

Thus was begat the 300 SEL 6.3 (1968-1972) using the W109 platform (1965-1972) and it was for years was a favorite high-speed cruiser on the FRG's (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany, 1949-1990) autobahns, drivers then even more than now not troubled by tiresome speed-limits.  It was a great success but there have been some who longed to combine the big V8 with the lovely coachwork of the coupé & cabriolet and a surprising number of these have been built although the standard of the engineering has varied, not all interpolating the 300 SEL 6.3's air suspension.  The finest of the breed were built by Wisconsin-based Karl Middelhauve (1932-2026) and while the term "guru" is these days tossed around entirely too much, truly Karl Middelhauve was "the 600 Guru".     

1971 Mercedes-Benz 280SE 3.5 Coupé (converted to a cabriolet).

This is one really to upset the originality police because: (1) it started life as a coupé before a roofectomy was performed, (2) the chrome (actually anodized plastic) wheel-arch moldings were never available on this model and (3) the Fuchs (Bundt) aluminum wheels have been chromed (and may anyway be reproductions, some of which are cast and not forged, as were the originals).  Such is the price premium a cabriolet will command over a comparable coupé, over the years, many have been tempted to cut but exactly to replicate what the factory did is harder than at first glance it seems.  It's not a matter simply of “removing the roof”, a correctly accomplished conversion demanding: (1) structural reinforcements, (2) a folding roof apparatus and (3) different rear-end body panels.  While from the belt-line down the coupé & cabriolet appear visually identical, the Cabriolet required extensive modifications to the underlying platform to compensate for the removal of the structural rigidity provided by the fixed steel roof.

Structural Reinforcement: (1) The cabriolet used a significantly heavier, thicker floor pan with welded-in boxed side members to prevent body flex and “scuttle (cowl) shake” and for those prepared to do things in a way that don’t exactly emulate the look of what the factory did all those years ago, using modern materials and engineering techniques it is now possible to achieve ever greater rigidity with less additional weight, the attraction being the changes remain hidden unless the car is viewed from below (ie on a hoist) or the carpets are removed for inspection. (2) The Cabriolet's windshield pillars (A-pillars) contain internal steel tubes, both to afford additional rollover protection and support the folding top mechanism, a mechanism heavy by the standards of such things.  (3) While the coupés were built with a structural steel shelf behind the rear seats, in the cabriolets this was replaced with a reinforced partition in which is housed the bulk of the folding roof.  (3) Without the roof’s C-pillar, the size and shape of the rear side windows subtly is different and these feature a unique chromed-frame designed to ensure a tight seal against the heavy weather-stripping of the fabric top (on the coupé the glass seals directly).

The multi-layered soft-top:  The Cabriolet’s folding roof is not (in an engineering sense) complex but the construction was both intricate and labor-intensive.  Almost wholly hand-fitted, the mechanism consisted of a padded outer layer, with a thick insulating bombast of horsehair as a middle layer, finished with a tailored interior headliner.

The Rear Body Panel Modifications: In the lower reaches of the conversion industry, this is the most neglected aspect and the easiest way to identify “a fake” although, unless the real thing is parked side-by-side, most would likely not tell the difference unless their eye is keen: (1) The trunk (boot) lid length is physically shorter on the factory-built cabriolets to accommodate the recessed storage well into which much of the soft-top folds meaning (2) the rear-desk-sheet metal (the panel between the back of the rear seat and the trunk opening) is is unique to the cabriolet, featuring a chrome-trimmed latching area for the soft top's boot.   

Mercedes-Benz 770K (W150; 1938-1943), Cabriolet D (top) and Cabriolet F (bottom).

With a variety of coachwork, all the second generation of the Großers (Grosser (Grand Mercedes)) were built on a chassis with a wheelbase of 3880 mm (152¾ inch).  In some four years, only 88 were built, most of which were allocated to senior figures in the Nazi Party, the Wehrmach (the armed forces) and the German state although a handful were gifted to foreign heads of state.  The 770K will forever be associated with Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) because until the outbreak of war the big Cabriolet F was his preferred parade car and one of the quirks in the factory's nomenclature is that while the body-styles Cabriolet A, B, C & D were defined and well-documented, there was a 770K Cabriolet F, but no Cabriolet E.  The W150 Cabriolet F was among the rarest of the 770Ks with only five made (the distinction the additional rear window in the passenger compartment).  The jump in the factory's designations from "D" to "F" obviously skipped "E" and because that didn't seem the typically precise German way of doing things, there was speculation that another type of open coachwork had been planned (though not necessarily on the 770K chassis) but never built because of the outbreak of war in 1939.  That's not impossible (some records were lost during the war) but the archives for the period have revealed nothing to support the speculation and the sometimes repeated assertion the "Cabriolet F" label was an allusion to "Führer" (the car's most infamous customer) is simply wrong because the designation first was used in the 1920s and was applied to the previous 770 Großer, the W07 (1931-1938).  The factory seems never to have commented on the "missing Cabriolet E" although, despite having a great sense of history, it doesn't much dwell on the company’s relationship with the state and party between 1933-1945.

Wedding ceremony day: Hermann Göring & Emmy Sonnemann, Berliner Dom (Berlin Protestant Cathedral), 11 April, 1935.

Curiously, the wedding car used by Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945 and Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) for his (second) marriage to Emmy Sonnemann (1893-1973) was a Mercedes-Benz 500 K Cabriolet C and the photographs do suggest things were a little cramped once his corpulent form had been wedged into the back seat though his more slender bride looked content.  One of the grand public spectacles the Nazi regime (1933-1945) used as propaganda devices, the wedding received blanket coverage in newspapers and, for the following three days, each movie shown in German cinemas was preceded by a “newsreel” segment of “edited highlights” from the happy day.  That would have been a good “catch-up” for Germans unlucky enough not to have been able to listen to the live radio broadcast of the entire ceremony , carried over a then still novel “national hook-up”.  Adolf Hitler served as best man and, in an experience unfamiliar to both him and the groom, neither were the centre of attention, eyes of the audience and lens of the photographers alike focused on the bride.

Damenmode der 1930er-Jahre: "Gretchen mag´s mondän!" (1930s Women's Fashion: "Gretchen Likes It Sophisticated!").  Catalogue of the collection of the Münchner Stadtmuseum (Munich’s municipal museum).

General Göring wore a Luftwaffe (German Air Force) uniform in a new grayish-blue fabric chosen for the occasion while the bride was dressed in a heavy white satin gown (cut in the then fashionable “Gretchen fashion”) with wide puffed sleeves ending in tight-fitting cuffs.  The train was relatively short and born not by girls (as was then customary) by boys of the HJ (Hitlerjugend (the Hitler Youth)), possibly a deliberate adoption of a practice then usually restricted to royalty and the aristocracy.  From the cathedral, the motorcade travelled the short distance to the Deutsche Oper Berlin (Berlin Opera House).  As one of the party’s leading WAGs (wives & girlfriends), Frau Göring made a good start in staking her claim to the (unofficial) title First Lady des Reiches (First Lady of the Reich), serving as Hitler's hostess at many state functions.  It was however a keenly contest space and both Anna Elisabeth “Annelies” von Ribbentrop (née Henkell 1896-1973), wife of Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi Foreign Minister 1938-1945) and (especially) Johanna Maria Magdalena "Magda" Goebbels (née Ritschel 1901-1945), wife of Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1945; Nazi Minister of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda 1933-1945) sought the honor and both were adept at Masonic-like plotting & scheming.  Frau Göring’s chances of success became doomed after Eva Braun ( 1912–1945) complained to Hitler that she was “mean to her” so the invitations “dried up” something that didn’t much worry her husband because although regarded almost to the end as Zweiter Mann des Reiches (Second Man of the Reich), he was never part of Hitler’s “inner social circle”.  Although the exact nature of their relationship remains contested, being the Führer’s concubine, Eva Braun could of course never be the Reich’s “First Lady” (her very identity was close to a state secret and she was unknown to most of the population) but, in the final hours of her life, she did gain the satisfaction of being made “Frau Hitler” so there was that.  Of course, long before that low-key wedding in the Führerbunker, the course of the war had meant becoming undisputed First Lady des Reiches was no longer the prize it once was, so what Eva Braun gained was something of a withered garland.

Gretchen fashion: Not many women on the high street dressed quite like this but the elements did appear in everyday garments.

“Gretchen fashion” (or “Gretchen-look”) was a term used for a fashion phenomenon much identified with post-Weimar Germany; like many such trends, it was a blend and the components were (1) traditional wholesomeness and (2) international glamour.  The first element was a reaction against the perception of Weimar as “decadent” (although that was always overstated and applied only to a tiny, highly visible minority), thus the choice of the name “Gretchen” as something archetypically German and most associated with modest, pure, rural woman (certainly not “rootless cosmopolitans”).  Nazi-era propaganda attempted to “nudge” women towards a makeup-free life focused on “…the three Ks - die Küche, die Kirche, die Kinder” (kitchen, church, and children), a phrase that first became popular during the second half of the nineteenth century but many women knew there was a variant with a fourth “K”: Kleider (Clothing) and while the rustic look was adopted, the Gretchen-look emerged as a hybrid that owed as much to Hollywood as Hannover.  Dresses shifted away from the boxy, drop-waist 1920s flapper silhouette and used instead fabrics cut on the diagonal (the bias cut) to elegantly skim curves and flare gently at the hem.  Weimar’s characteristic angularity and androgyny almost vanished (although the hats were too stylish to be forgotten and were carried-over), replaced by a classic hourglass silhouette, high, natural waistlines returning, often emphasized with slender belts or subtle ties with hemlines at mid-calf, tea-length or floor-length depending on the time of day.  A simplicity of line was dominant but delicate ruffles, puff sleeves and inventive (sometimes even asymmetric) necklines decorated with tie-neck bows or fabric flowers could be used to compliment feminine prints featuring romantic florals or polka dots.  Of course, it was also the art deco era and those motifs along with bold stripes often were seen.  Some in the Nazi Party may have aspired to make the country a totalitarian state but frocks proved a tough opponent and, defying their Führer, women still wore red lipstick, plucked their eyebrows into arches and varnished their nails.

Wedding day of Crown Prince Naruhito & Masako Owada san, Rolls-Royce Corniche III Convertible, 9 June, 1993.  The crown prince was notably more svelte than General Göring.

Because a bride (in wedding gown) will need to step through a fairly small gap when exiting (often while being photographed), a two-door cabriolet does seem a strange choice as a wedding car and why one of the big 770K Cabriolet F Open Tourers wasn’t used doesn’t seem anywhere discussed and of the many questions directed at Göring during his week-long cross-examination at the Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946); understandably perhaps, neither prosecution or defense counsel raised the matter so it’s left to speculation.  It may be the bride wanted something “more romantic” and “less masculine” so there would be the connotation of her “marrying the man rather than the state” and while that’s wholly fanciful, it does explain the seemingly inexplicable.  The use of a two-door cabriolet for a “state” wedding proved however not unique, Japanese Crown Prince Naruhito (b 1960, Emperor of Japan since 2019) appearing in a 1990 Rolls-Royce Corniche III Convertible (by then the factory had ceased calling them DHCs (drophead coupé) although in the twenty-first century DHC would get a nostalgic revival) for his wedding in 1993 to Masako Owada san (b 1963).  It was one of only two public appearances for the Corniche, later retired and replaced by a Toyota Century Royal with one-off four door cabriolet coachwork, something that doubtless will please brides in future weddings associated with the Chrysanthemum Throne.  Compared with 1935, there was by 1993 more material for content providers (then serving almost exclusively television and print media) but the crown prince’s wedding was still a major event (the day declared a national holiday) and, with the country having entered the first of its “lost decades”, the spectacle must have been a relief from tales of economic gloom.

How to really make a statement on one's wedding day: 1993 Rolls-Royce Corniche IV in red, on red, on red.

Although in the English-speaking world the traditional color for wedding cars is white (or a close variant such as cream), in Japanese culture both black and white vehicles are used and there are even specialized Hanayome Taxis (Bridal Taxis) in which the left side of the roof mechanically swings upward so ingress & egress can be elegant with no risk of disturbing intricately constructed “big hair”.  Usually, in vivid red, Kotobuki (congratulations; longevity; good fortune) banners appear on the sides of the wedding cars as a warning to other traffic of the vehicle’s “special purpose”.  One Japanese “wedding superstition” enforced with especial strictness is that a bridal car must never shift into reverse gear because “backing-up” symbolizes “returning home” (ie a looming divorce).  One famous mid-twentieth century tradition that has faded is the Yomeiri (Dowry) Truck, most associated with the Nagoya region.  There, the wedding motorcade was a convoy of trucks used to transport the bride's dowry and furniture to her new home, the vehicles wrapped in festive red-and-white Kohaku maku (striped banners).  Most symbolically, on the bed of the last truck was the newlywed’s brand-new car, wrapped in a large, bright red ribbon.  For the crown prince and princess, their traditional Shinto ceremony was conducted at the Kashiko-dokoro (Shrine of the Sun Goddess Amaterasu) within the grounds of the Imperial Palace grounds in Tokyo and while there were no dowry trucks (the palace already fully-furnished with microwave ovens, toasters and such), the Rolls-Royce was one of 46 vehicles in a motorcade stretching slightly beyond a quarter-mile (402 metres).

Not even Göring matched that scale although, being head of the Luftwaffe, he was able to arrange a fly-past of dozens of fighter aircraft, timed with Teutonic precision to appear over the cathedral just as the couple were walking down the steps to their waiting cabriolet.  The sybaritic Goering gathered titles as enthusiastically as later he would loot Europe of artworks; as well as heading the Luftwaffe, he was Premier of Prussia, Reich Minister of Aviation, general in command of anti-aircraft artillery, general of fliers, Grand Master of the Hunt, Master Forester of Germany, President of Reichstag, chief of the Prussian secret police and Director, State Theatres & Operas (in that capacity he granted Frau Sonnemann the title “State Actress by appointment”) so it wasn’t difficult for him to arrange “stuff for the wedding”.  Hundreds of thousands of Germans (not all of the Berliners) lined the Wilhelmstrasse (Wilhelm Street) and Unter den Linden (best translated as “Boulevard of the Lime Trees”) from the chancellery to the cathedral and seldom can a wedding have seen so men in such a variety of uniforms (at attire then adored by Germans).  Manpower not being a resource-allocation problem for Göring, some 30,000 young men from a variety of Nazi organizations formed a double row in order to keep the streets clear and, with the expected military precision, they stood at attention with right arms raised in the “Hitler salute” as the wedding motorcade passed by.  In a legal sense, the marriage had taken place the day before in a civil ceremony at Berlin City Hall, bride and groom signing the necessary paperwork confirming they were of “pure Aryan stock and free from hereditary disease” (millions of those not either in the ten years to follow being murdered by on Hitler’s orders) so the rituals in the church were essentially ceremonial and performed for the benefit of God rather than the state.  Reich Bishop Ludwig Mueller (1933-1945) officiated, choosing the New Testament’s Book of Revelation for his text (“Be thou faithful unto death and I will give you a crown of life.”):  “Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer: behold, the devil shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried; and ye shall have tribulation ten days: be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life.”  Revelations 2:10 (King James Version of the Bible (KJV, 1611)).

The Blue Goose.  The image on the left is from the Búndesarchiv (German Federal Archives) and is stamped "1941", suggesting married life did not cause Göring to suffer weight-loss,

The car most famously associated with Göring was also a Mercedes-Benz convertible (though not a cabriolet): a 1937 540K (W29) Special Roadster.  The earlier 500K Special Roadster came to be called “the brightest glint of a golden age” and while the 540K SR wasn’t quite as rakish as its slightly smaller predecessor, that may have been a good thing because modifications had to be made the 540 to ensure Göring was “able to fit behind the wheel” and even then, things were “tight”.  His 540K SR was nicknamed das Blaue Gans (the Blue Goose) because Göring ordered it his favourite shade of Luftwaffe Blaue (used for the underside of reconnaissance aircraft) and he was sufficiently fond of the hue to have one of his (many) Reichsmarschall uniforms cut in a fabric dyed the same color.

Appointed in 1933 by Hitler to the newly created office of Reichsbischof de Deutsche Evangelische Kirche (Bishop for the Reich of the German Evangelical Church), Mueller, a Lutheran priest and undistinguished theologian had no obvious qualifications for the role other than being a devoted Nazi but for the Führer, that was enough.  In office, Mueller, even by the slight standards of the regime’s minor functionaries, proved singularity inept and far from uniting the German protestant churches as was his designated task, he proved a schismatic influence.  By 1937, it was obvious to Hitler he’d “backed a dud” and increasingly he abandoned his use of carrots in church matters, resorting to the stick “when required” but otherwise becoming indifferent, seemingly resigned to the party’s state of “semi-peaceful” co-existence with the churches.  Typically, despite his conspicuous failure, Mueller wasn’t dismissed but simply ignored, his sycophancy and repeated attempts at ingratiation with the regime proving pointless.  Still, he deserves credit for having been prophetic in his choice of text for Göring’s wedding although whether “Defendant Number One” at the Nuremberg Trial much dwelt on the words during the months he spent in his cell or as he stood to hear the IMT’s (International Military Tribunal) president sentence him to be hanged, isn’t known.