Tergiversate

Tergiversate (Pronounced tur-ji-ver-seyt)

(1) To change repeatedly one's attitude or opinions with respect to a cause or subject.

(2) To turn renegade; to change sides, affiliations or loyalties; to apostatize; to desert.

(3) To evade, to equivocate using subterfuge; to obfuscate in a deliberate manner.  To be evasive or ambiguous.

(4) To flee by turning one's back (obsolete).

1645-1655; From the Classical Latin tergiversātus, perfect active participle of tergiversor (to evade, to avoid, to turn one's back on) and past participle of tergiversārī (to turn one's back), the construct being tergi- (a combining form of tergum (back)) + versātus, past participle of versāre, frequentative of +‎ versor or vertere (to turn (from the primitive Indo-European root wer- (to turn; to bend))).  The Vulgar Latin was tergiversationem (nominative tergiversatio).  The original mid-seventeenth century sense of the verb tergiversate was “to shift; practice evasion” and it was used especially in a political or religious context to mean “apostatize, desert one's party”.  It’s not clear whether the verb was a directly from the Latin tergiversates or a back-formation from tergiversation.  The noun tergiversation (turning dishonestly from a straightforward action or statement; shifting, shuffling, equivocation) was in use by the 1560s, from the Latin tergiversationem (a shifting, evasion, declining, refusing), the noun of action from the past-participle stem of tergiversari.  Deconstructed, that meant literally “to turn one's back on”, thus the sense of “to evade” from tergum (the back (of unknown origin) + versare.  In the seventeenth century, there were nuances to tergiversation, on version noting the meaning: “A seeming to runne away, yet (like some cocks) still to fight, wrangling” (ie a tactic of delayed attack rather than a retreat).  Some sources list the verb tergiversate being obsolete by the twentieth century but it survived as a “decorative word” and “deliberate anachronism” before being revived because it was so useful in political commentary.  Tergiversate, tergiversated & tergiversating are verbs and tergiversation & tergiversator are nouns; the noun plural forms (tergiversations & tergiversators) are rare.

While “tergiversate” can be applied to changes of opinion or alignment in many fields, in contemporary practice it’s rare for it to be seen except when speaking of writing about politics & politicians, a rich source of mendacity and inconsistency.  So common is political tergiversation that the frequency with which it’s reported has compelled the coining or adaptation of other terms including “flip-flopping”, “turncoating”, “U-turning”, and “ratting”, some politicians known even to have embraced them.  Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) in 1901 entered the UK’s House of Commons as a Tory (Conservative), having on the hustings lambasted his opponents in the Liberal Party as “prigs, prudes and faddists” and once in parliament he warmed to the topic, accusing the Liberals of “…hiding from the public view like a toad in a hole”, adding “…when it stands forth in all its hideousness we Tories will have to hew the filthy object limb from limb.”  That told the country what he must at the time have thought yet in less than three years he’d stand on the same platform and ejaculate: “I hate the Tories.  I am an English Liberal.”  Obviously that was a nailing of the colors to the mast yet by 1924, after a turbulent couple of decades, he returned to the Tory benches, all apparently forgiven (though certainly not forgotten).  Whether those tergiversations were acts of principle or a sniffing of the electoral breeze can be debated but Churchill himself took the view he’d done it all with some panache, joking in his club: “Anyone can rat, but it takes a certain ingenuity to re-rat.”

#freckles: Lindsay Lohan out shopping. Tergiversate’s origin lies in the Latin tergiversari (to turn one's back) but that sense of the word has for more than a century been extinct and it’s now a “loaded” word; a pejorative characterization rather than a neutral description.

The Athenian statesman and general Alcibiades (circa 450-404 BC) ratted more often than Churchill and did in circumstances wholly more distasteful, his allegiance shifting on several occasions during the Peloponnesian War (431-404 BC, fought between the Athenians and Spartans).  Historians have attributed his repeated acts of treachery not to ideological commitment or even avarice but to what a modern HR (Human Relations) department might describe as “difficulties in personal relationships” that led not infrequently to erstwhile colleagues becoming enemies.  Prominent in his native Athens where he advocated a hard line against the Spartans in both foreign policy and military matters, Alcibiades proved skilful in Masonic-like plotting and scheming but his ruthlessness made many enemies and they too proved adept at character assassination; reading the writing on the wall (about to be written in his blood) he decamped to Sparta, taking with him valuable secrets about the military plans of Athens, making him a most useful “consultant”.  However, the problem inherent in being a turncoat (however useful) is that one never is wholly trusted by ones new “friends” and this tension, coupled with Alcibiades’ clearly abrasive personality made him realise he’d do well to depart and so he did, defecting the court of the Persian Empire where he served as a strategic advisor.  However, so much had the power centres in Athens shifted that remarkably (given his history), he was recalled to military command there, serving for several years before the faction that had never forgiven him engineered his second exile to Persia.  There he was murdered, reputedly on the orders of his enemies in Sparta but there’s a long list of likely suspects.

What’s now the most frequent use of tergiversation is to refer to promises made and broken by those most notorious of tergiversators: politicians.  Although the term “law-maker” is less commonly used beyond the US, it’s a revealing way to describe those elected or appointed to legislatures and the key to why they are able to break what should be regarded as contractual promises while others doing the same thing can severely be punished.  When seeking election to what most people casting a vote would regard as a highly paid job, politicians make what are known as “campaign promises”.  The promises are an inducement to make people vote for them so they get the well paid job so what should be created is a “social contract”; upon being elected, the politician should fulfil their promises.  In that it should be no different from the furniture store advertising their “special deal” of “one coffee table, two chairs and one sofa for $1,999”; that’s what should be delivered.  Were the store to take the $1,999 and deliver only one chair and one sofa, the customer would have legal recourse.  What that might be (an order for specific performance of the contract (ie delivering the missing table and chair)); a refund; compensation for the missing items etc) might vary according to this and that but there would be come redress available and that’s because the law-makers have passed laws protecting consumers from those breaking promises.

Day of the Tergiversate (2017), directed by Alex Michael Smith (known also for Bed of Fear (2014) and Monsters of Suburbia (2019).

However, lawmakers everywhere (as far as is known) have not passed laws making political promises enforceable despite the principle being the same as the furniture store (promises made to deliver something exchange for something (money or votes).  Political scientists have noted the social contract between politician & voter conforms with the four essential element of a contract listed in every text book in the common law world: (1) Offer (a politician makes a promise in exchange for a vote), (2) Acceptance (by voting a voter in engaging in an act of “acceptance by acquiescence”), (3) Consideration (in voting the voter is “paying” the politician for their promise(s)) and (4) Certainty of terms (helpfully, political parties list their promises in the “party platform”, usually in simple, unambiguous language of the advertising slogan).  So that would appear to suggest that according to the legal principles the lawmakers impose on everybody else, the promises they made to get their well-paid jobs should at law be enforceable.  Of course they are not and the lawmakers remain free to break their promises at will.  While the politicians can argue that any voter sufficiently upset about one or more broken promises can in the next election vote for somebody else, that really doesn’t much help because (1) the politician will enjoy some years (typically between 2-8) in the high paid job they obtained by making promises that were broken and (2) the alternatives are just a likely to break promises.

The roll-call of tergiversating politicians is of course long and rarely noble; sometimes the consequences have for decades rippled.  Overturning long-standing party policy, Tory Sir Robert Peel (1788–1850; Prime Minister of the UK 1834–1835 & 1841–1846) had to rely on the support of the Whig opposition to in 1846 repeal the UK’s protectionist “Corn Laws”, triggering the “free trade” squabbles which would for decades rage.  A most unusual reform by a Tory administration (it benefited the poor and cost the rich!); shortly after that his ministry fell and Peel would never again hold office.  Still, he’s remembered because of another of his innovations lent his names to two of the original slang terms for police constables: “Peelers” and “Bobbies”.

Front page of Rupert Murdoch's (b 1931) New York Post, 27 June 1990.  The editors of Mr Murdoch's tabloids prefer punchy words like “lied” to decorative forms like “tergiversated”.

George H.W. Bush (George XLI, 1924-2018; VPOTUS 1981-1989 and POTUS 1989-1993) might have got away with breaking his “…no new taxes” promise had it been an anodyne line of electoral orthodoxy buried somewhere in the Republican’s 1988 manifesto but he made the mistake of standing at rallies and loudly declaring: “Read my lips: no new taxes”, probably the most widely televised fragment of the campaign and greeted always with resounding applause.  It must at the time have seemed a good idea and probably it was; certainly nobody doubts Mr Bush really believed what he was promising and few politicians could convey sincerity like him.  Unfortunately, economic conditions worsened and by 1990 he took the decision to raise taxes in an attempt to “reign in” the growing deficit.  This was the era before Dick Cheney (1941-2025; VPOTUS 2001-2009) helpfully explained: “Deficits don’t matter”, a new (at least temporary) orthodoxy explaining why the US deficit is now nudging US$40 trillion which, although only a few dozen Elon Musks (b 1971), is a big number.  In 1990, Mr Bush preferred to avoid what he might once have called “voodoo economics”, stuck to the text books and raised taxes, something which contributed to Bill Clinton (b 1946; POTUS 1993-2001) winning the “It’s the economy stupid” 1992 presidential election, voters, however unhappily, receiving a free copy of crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013).

Many economists at the time commended Mr Bush for breaking his promise but there weren’t many of them and there were many more angry voters.  Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, POTUS 1933-1945) found the electorate more forgiving of him breaking the promise made in the 1932 campaign to “cut federal spending by 25%”.  Instead, he embarked upon the “New Deal” and while some economists have argued all that “tax & spend” churn delayed economic recovery, the many who at the time benefited from the stimulus weren’t inclined to decline support because of FDR’s broken promise.  As ever, “it’s the economy stupid”.  Now of course, in the time of the US$40 trillion deficit, it’s different and the shadow since 1987 cast by the “Greenspan put” (recessions ultimately reducible to “rich people losing money” the solution of celebrity economist (a rare breed) Dr Alan Greenspan (1926-2026; chairman of the Fed (US Federal Reserve) 1987-2006) being to “give them money”) grows ever longer.  In a sense, that has removed from the US political debate much of the need for politicians to make promises about taxes or spending because they know that while the Fed’s mechanism to “create money” may be different from the Nazi-era “wizardry” of Dr Hjalmar Schacht’s (1877–1970; president of the Reichsbank 1923-1930 & 1933-1939), “Mefo bills” (promissory notes, drawn upon the artificial company Metallurgische Forschungsgesellschaft (Metallurgical Research Corporation), the “bottom line” outcomes are strikingly similar.  How long this system can be sustained has attracted comment, the Dick Cheney faction in one corner and in the other, those saying “It’s the stupid economy”.

“Core” and “non core” promises explained.  Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December, 2011. 

A breathtakingly audacious “justification” of breaking election promises was in 1996 coined (apparently on-the-spot so he gets points for that) by John Howard (b 1939; prime minister of Australia 1996-2007).  When challenged by a journalist over having blatantly just broken several promises made during the election campaign only a few months earlier, Mr Howard constructed a new theory, one previously unknown to political science and never codified even by such cleverly wicked chaps as the Florentine diplomat Niccolò Machiavelli, 1469–1527), the “Welsh wizard” David Lloyd George (1863–1945; UK prime-minister 1916-1922) or the truly evil Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), none of whom were ever much bothered by the notion of “keeping promises”).  What Mr Howard extemporized was that election promises can be categorized into “core” pledges that must be kept, and “non-core” pledges able to be broken or amended (also an interesting distinction).  That really would have been a most useful contribution to democratic theory had Mr Howard explained things prior to the election and listed his party’s “core” and “non-core” promises in the manifesto thus.  Unfortunately, his concept appeared only after the promised had “done the job” and elected him.  So, given the cynicism in the “core” vs “non-core” dichotomy he retrospectively applied, one might have thought the electorate might have punished Mr Howard but he went on to win another three elections (holing office for more than a decade and becoming the country's second-longest serving leader), the voters apparently concluding that even though he’d broken his promises, at least he’d had the chutzpah to come up with an even bigger lie in justification.  Never forgetting their convict origins, Australians can’t help but admire successful skulduggery and Mr Howard was a “conviction politician”; never was it said of him he was one of those “who lacked the courage of his lack of convictions”.

In modern use the understanding of “tergiversation” has shifted from its origin in the Latin tergiversari (to turn one's back) and while more than “flip-flop”, “U-turn” or “lie”, generally it’s now used to convey the idea of evasion, duplicity, abandonment of a previously held position, shifting a previously expressed stance for mere expediency or base self-interest; most associated with politicians it thus carries connotations of bad faith or basic dishonesty.  “Tergiversation” is thus a “loaded” word; a pejorative characterization rather than a neutral description.  Even for politicians however there can be good reasons to break promises.  Although phrases in the vein of “When someone persuades me that I am wrong, I change my mind. What do you do?” usually are attributed to the English economist John Maynard Keynes (1883-1946), there’s no evidence he ever used those words but the sentiment certainly exists in his writings including: “The company must maintain constant vigilance and revise preconceived ideas in response to changes in external situations” and “The inactive investor who takes up an obstinate attitude about his holdings and refuses to change his opinion merely because facts and circumstances have changed is the one who in the long run comes to grievous loss.”

Chopstick diplomacy.

Comrade Zhou Enlai (1898–1976; premier of the People's Republic of China (PRC) 1949-1976, left), Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 & POTUS 1969-1974) (centre) and comrade Zhang Chunqiao (1917–2005, right) at the welcome banquet for President Nixon's visit to the PRC, Tiananmen Square, Beijing, 26 February 1972.

It was in that spirit Richard Nixon, who had built a political career on his virulent anti-communism and support for the renegade province of Taiwan, switched to achieve a détante with the PRC (People’s Republic of China, the old “Red China”) and ultimately grant diplomatic recognition.  That was quite a switch and one at the time only someone with his solid anti-communist credentials could have achieved; while his motivations weren’t wholly pure, he did understand the geopolitical environment he and Dr Henry Kissinger (1923-2023; US national security advisor 1969-1975 & secretary of state 1973-1977) were confronting was very different to that which a generation earlier had existed for Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; POTUS 1953-1961) and John Foster Dulles (1888–1959; US secretary of state 1953-1959).  Most historians have since seen the shift as an inevitable strategic adaptation to Cold War realities rather than mere tergiversation but they’re not as forgiving of all adaptations to changed circumstances.  In his pre-political life, Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) would probably not ever have been labelled a “liberal” but his public positions on at least some issues would suggest he was sympathetic to some liberal positions including gun control and the right to abortion (“pro-choice” in the US discourse).  What can’t be denied is that since the 1980s the spate of mass shootings (many of them in schools) means “circumstances have changed” yet Mr Trump is now a most doughty opponent of any attempt to strengthen gun control in the US (although in NYC’s Trump Tower a “No Carry” policy strictly is enforced).  This isn’t exactly the sort of “change of opinion”  Keynes had in mind but rather what David Stockman (b 1946; Director of the US OMB (Office of Management and Budget) 1981–1985) called “The Triumph of Politics”, the sub-title of his 1986 book the explanatory: Why the Reagan Revolution Failed.  A quick learner, Mr Trump found at least some of the techniques in property development were transferable to electoral politics: Results matter and don’t be too bothered by principles.

Flamingo

Flamingo (pronounced fluh-ming-goh)

(1) Any of several aquatic wading birds of the family Phoenicopteridae (the only extant family in the order Phoenicopteriformes), having very long legs and neck, webbed feet, a bill bent downward at the tip and pinkish to scarlet plumage; they tend to inhabit brackish lakes.

(2) In the color spectrum, a shade of reddish-orange but in commercial use, often various hues of pink.

1555–1565: From the Portuguese flamengo (flamingo) and Spanish flamenco (flamingo), from the Catalan & Old Occitan (Old Provençal) flamenc, (flame colored), the construct being the Latin flamma (flame) + the Germanic suffix -enc (-ing), denoting “descent from or membership of”.  Both the Portuguese flamengo and the Spanish flamengo translate literally as “flame-colored” (the Greek phoinikopteros (flamingo) literally was “red feathered").  The Portuguese, Spanish & Catalan forms were used adjectivally as an ethnonym meaning “Flemish”; Fleming (the Belgium region), seems originally to have been a jocular name, coined because the conventional Romance image of the inhabitants was of “those with a ruddy-complexion”.  Although the term is now uncommon (and rarely heard in commentary), in cricket, “flamingo shot” describes a ball "flicked" from outside off stump through midwicket.  In Spanish, flamenco can be used colloquially as an adjective meaning “robust, healthy-looking” and is a type of dance.  The more serious types among the ornithologists say the collective noun for flamingos is “a stand” but most favor the more evocative “flamboyance”  One suspects the birds would prefer it too.  Flamingo is a noun & adjective and flamingoish is an adjective; the noun plural is flamingos or flamingoes.

Lindsay Lohan in Dubai in flamingo pink Aeire velour tracksuit with yoga mat, January, 2023.

The term “flamingo pink” has much commercial appeal because of the charismatic birds so use often is a bit opportunistic given the coloring of flamingos varies widely depending on their diet, many often more of an orange hue than red or pink.  There’s thus much variation on the color charts while garment manufacturers appear mostly to slot in “Flamingo pink” as a shade somewhat toned-down from “hot pink” or “fuchsia”.  Legislation in the UAE (United Arab Emirates, including Dubai) affords individuals significant protection from being photographed without their consent so there the paparazzi are noticeably less active than in most Western jurisdictions.  Thus an image of celebrity in a public place in Dubai can usually be assumed to have been staged or in some way authorized.  As a general principle, those in Dubai are (mostly) free to photograph the built environment, landscapes, tourist attractions and even street scenes but deliberately (or even inadvertently) photographing an identifiable person without their consent can potentially create legal liability.  This is the case especially if the image is deemed to constitute an invasion of privacy or is published or shared electronically.  The mere inclusion of people in photographs may not constitute an offence even if one or more is identifiable, a typical example being a shot of a tourist attraction in which one or more tourist appears; as in the West, this is an aspect of law in which intent is a factor.  Ms Lohan more than once has mentioned one of the attractions of Dubai is the level of protection from paparazzi afforded to public figures.

Flamingos in the Air

Safety in numbers: Wildlife photographer Ron Magill's (b 1960) image of flamingos in the Miami Zoo Public Bathroom, sitting (standing) out Hurricane Andrew, a Category 5 Atlantic hurricane that struck Florida in August 1992.  It remains the most destructive weather event recorded in Florida but all in the flamboyance of flamingos sheltering in the bathroom survived.  Flamingos are omnivores, filter-feeding on brine shrimp and blue-green algae as well as larva, small insects, mollusks and crustaceans, their vivid pink or reddish feathers a product of the beta-carotenoids rich in this diet.  The birds usually stand on one leg with the other tucked beneath and why they do this is not understood.  One theory is that standing on one leg allows them to conserve more body heat, given they spend a significant amount of time wading in cold water, but the behavior is also observed in warm water and among birds ashore.  The alternative theory is that standing on one leg reduces the energy required for the muscular effort to stand and balance and flamingos demonstrate substantially less body sway in a one-legged posture.  The answer thus is “don't know” but it may reasonably be assumed they prefer it because it's easier.

Perhaps the world's only black flamingo.

In 2015, during a routine “flamingo count”, a black flamingo was observed on the salt lake at the Akrotiri Environmental Centre on the southern coast of Cyprus, zoologists noting it may be not merely rare but perhaps the only one in existence; it's assumed to be the same bird seen in Israel in 2014 (large flamingo flocks are known regularly to fly long distances).  The black plumage is a result of melanism, a genetic condition in which the pigment melanin is over-produced, turning the feathers black during development.  The opposite of melanism is albinism, when no melanin is made and the animal is colorless except for a faint hue (from red blood vessels) in the eyes.  There are many intermediate stages between melanism & albinism where various pigments partially are missing, resulting the patchy coloration known as leucism but albino and leucistic (partial albino) birds are not uncommon, unlike the genuine rarity of the melanistic flamingo.  Why flamingos are so rarely affected while black owls, woodpeckers, herons and many others often are observed isn't known but the condition appears to be most common in a some hawk species, jaegers and a few seabirds.  Pedants noted the much-travelled black flamingo actually had a few white tail feathers so suggested it should not be classified as a true instance of melanism but specialist ornithologists, while acknowledging there were aberrant white feathers, dismissed their presence with an observation something like “...a few, but then again, too few to mention”.

RAF (Royal Air Force) de Havilland DH.95 Flamingo Mark I.

First flown in 1938 before entering service in 1939, the de Havilland DH.95 Flamingo was a twin-engined, high-wing monoplane airliner, the design reflecting the then current thinking about short-haul civil aviation, the emphasis on passenger comfort and economy of operation, the latter still a consuming interest of carriers.  De Havilland’s designers used the US Douglas DC-3 (the Dakota, then the dominant airframe in civil use), as a model, the Flamingo a little scaled-down better to suit the economics of European operations.  Although never envisaged as a military platform, the Air Ministry placed an order for a small run to be used as transport and communications aircraft but production plans were interrupted by the outbreak of World War II (1939-1945) and the ministry directed de Havilland’s capacity should be re-allocated to manufacturing more urgently-needed machines.  So, only 14 Flamingos were built and those used by the Army and RAF all were struck from the active list before the war was over, some returned to civil use, the last remaining in service until the early 1950s.  The Flamingo is however over-represented in the wartime photographic record because it was a RAF Flamingo that was Winston Churchill’s (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) preferred short-haul transport and in one he made his famous flights to France in May 1940 as he attempted to stiffen the resolve of the French cabinet to remain in the war.

The Flamingo Pose

The flamingo pose, perfected by Gigi Hadid (b 1995).  Note hand braced against wall with fingers spread (both techniques borrowed from structural engineering), a way of “distributing the load”, lowering the centre of gravity, thus enhancing stability.

Among humans, the reason for the flamingo pose is well understood: Instagram.  It’s in the tradition of earlier “duck face”, “fish gape pose”, “T. rex selfie hand”, “Bambi pose”, “resting bitch face”, “ear scratch” and “migraine pose” etc, all of which (at least before becoming clichéd) had visual appeal while some offered functional advantages.  Humans don’t however enjoy the evolutionary heritage of flamingos and the pose can be a technical challenge if attempted while standing; models suggest using a wall or handrail for balance if the photo session is at all protracted.  A better alternative can be to pose while sitting, one leg extended with the other bent or tucked away in some fetching manner.

Flamingos on wheels

1961 Buick Flamingo.

Attendances had been declining at GM’s (General Motors) Motorama so 1961 would prove the final season for the traveling road show that, known originally as Autorama, had since 1949 been an annual event (except in the troubled years 1957-1958) in major cities (Boston, New York, Miami, San Francisco etc).  In those years more than ten million had visited the exhibits but the public’s taste in entertainment had shifted and by the 1960s the cars being displayed were no longer as entertaining, the wild, extravagant exercises which blended automobiles with styling cues from missiles and jet aircraft replaced by what were mostly blinged-up variants of vehicles already in production.  Rather than being a forum to excite the imagination, Motorama had descended into a kind of large-scale focus-group to “test the water”, gauging reaction to innovations or gimmicks that might later appear in showrooms.

Testing the water: 19 members of the Brighton Swimming Club, in their top hats and swim trunks, East Sussex, Brighton, England, 1863, photograph by Benjamin William Botham (1824-1877).  Note chap (fourth from left) adopting flamingo pose: there’s one in every crowd.

Buick’s 1961 Flamingo was very much in the vein of a “test the water” exercise.  It was based on a standard-production Electra 225 convertible but finished in a pearlescent pink, the paint mixed using the same techniques as the West Coast hot rod community: exotic pigments & toners with metal-flakes, challenging enough to perfect for a one-off and years away from being viable for large-scale production.  While an extensive use of pink paint and accessories had not much increased the appeal of the Dodge La Femme (1955-1956) among the female demographic in which US commerce was taking an increasing interest, Buick's product planners must have decided there was life in the “women like pink” approach.  Cynical that may have been but the sparkling color must have been eye-catching under the lights and the Flamingo was one of the most photographed exhibits when the 1961 Motorama opened its swansong season at New York’s Waldorf Astoria Hotel, then the final home of General Douglas MacArthur (1880–1964).  The Flamingo’s interior certainly complimented the paint, the two-tone upholstery in pink leather and cranberry brocade while the front bucket seats were separated by a wide console trimmed in bright metal, a feature Detroit widely would adopt although in 1961 Buick kept the transmission’s shift level on the column; “T-bar” shifts and such soon would come.

1961 Buick Flamingo.

Structurally, the Flamingo's most obvious novelty was the pivoting passenger seat, able to turned 180^o and thus more easily permit a conversation with those in the rear compartment, an design aspect to ponder given it was before seatbelts were universal but well after the publication of Sir Isaac Newton's (1642–1727) First Law of Motion (known also as the Law of Inertia: “An object at rest will remain at rest, and an object in motion will continue in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced external force”).  It was also a time before Ralph Nader’s (b 1934) book Unsafe at Any Speed (1965) prompted politicians to take their legislative axe to such ventures.  Swivelling front seats had actually been around for a while but their extent of rotation had been only the few degrees required to afford easier ingress and egress although Chrysler did later include a passenger seat able to rotate the full 180^o.  Offered as part of the “Mobile Director Package” and available exclusively on the 1967-1968 Imperial Crown Coupe, demand was subdued and even had it not been obvious the new safety rules would outlaw such things, the option would not have been carried over to the new generation of “Fuselage” cars in 1969.  What became of the Buick Flamingo isn’t known.  It was mechanically identically to any other Electra 225 convertible so it may have been used by Buick’s engineers for other purposes and the consensus is it was likely scrapped and sent to the crusher, the fate of many such machines.

Chevrolet Firenza Can-Am advertisement, 1973.

Internationally, the South African automotive industry of the 1960s and early 1970s remains best known for improving cars from Europe by installing larger capacity V8 engines sourced from the US, the most noted including the Perana (the Mark I Ford Capri (1969-1974) but fitted with a 302 cubic inch (4.9 litre) V8) some 500 of which were built until the first oil shock (1973) put a stop to the fun and the Chevrolet Firenza Can-Am (a coupé variant of the HC Vauxhall Viva (1970-1979) which used the Chevrolet Z/28 302 V8 that had in the US become surplus when the rules of the Trans-Am competition were relaxed to permit racing teams to de-stroke larger displacement units to meet the 5.0 litre (305 cubic inch) class limit), 100 produced in 1973 as a homologation exercise for use in local competition.  Fondly those brutish machines still are recalled by those who remember how things used to be done but, years before, there had also been the rather more delicate GSM Flamingo.

1963 GSM Flamingo, note the elevated stance and disproportionate windscreen height.

Capetown-based GSM (Glassport Motor Company) was formed in 1958 with a business model following the approach of many small-scale “cottage industry” producers in the UK: Diminutive sports cars with small-displacement engines that achieved competitive performance through the light weight of their bodies constructed with the then still novel fibreglass in shapes which, although often not wind-tunnel tested, certainly looked aerodynamic.  GSM had enjoyed some success with their Dart sports car (1958-1964) but when in 1962 the company expanded the range to include the Flamingo, it followed the approach which doomed more than one concern: A larger coupé, fitted with some of the creature comforts better to appeal to a wider market than their uncompromising little roadsters, the native environment of the latter a race track.  Had it been possible to fit the Flamingo with Ford’s Cologne V6 engine the car might have enjoyed greater commercial success but for various reasons it appeared instead with the corporation’s 1.5 & 1.7 litre (92 & 102 cubic inch) four cylinder units.  Although the low mass and clearly slippery aerodynamics made it possible for some Flamingos to achieve a then exceptional 110 mph (175 km/h), in getting there it lacked the refinement buyers of coupés in its price range had come to expect and production ended in 1964.

1963 GSM Flamingo.

Entertaining though it was acknowledged to be, the target market wanted also to be pampered and there were too many aspects of the Flamingo that betrayed its “backyard” origins.  The cars sat higher on the chassis than was intended because of a measurement error when the molds were created (shades of the later Hubble Space Telescope) which meant a somewhat “jacked-up” look and, more seriously, a higher centre of gravity which had to be compensated for by adjustments to the suspension settings, exactly what MG was in 1974 compelled to do to make its Midget (1963-1979) and MGB (1962-1980) comply with US headlight height rules.  Had resources been available, the flawed molds would have been scrapped and re-cast using correct dimensions but by then cash-flow was more of a priority than perfection.  Additionally, the windscreen, while offering commanding visibility, was aesthetically too big for the shape, economic realities dictating the “best fit available” being bought “off the shelf”, in this case the glass from BMC’s (British Motor Corporation) Austin A40 Farina (1958-1967, the Countryman version of which was one of the earliest “hatchbacks”).  Coincidentally, Nissan in 1968 created a similar look when adding a taller windscreen to their Fairlady roadster (1963-1970 and in some markets sold as the “Sports”, “1500”, “1600” or “2000” (the latter three designations denoting engine displacement)), preferring that to fitting a third windscreen wiper as the UK industry did to render the Austin Healey Sprite (1958-1971) & MG Midget compliant with US regulations.  The A40's re-purposed windscreen made things a little ungainly but the “split rear screen” was, visually, more satisfying and the car’s most memorable feature.

1963 GSM Flamingo.  As well as providing structural integrity, at speed, the central fin would have contributed to straight-line stability.

Common in the inter-war years, most split rear screens were gone by the mid-1950s although there was a quixotic revival by GM which included the look on the C2 Chevrolet Corvette (1963-1967).  The cause at the time of internecine squabbles within the division, the “anti-splitty” faction prevailed and the 1964 models appeared with a single piece of glass but, in a sense, the “splitty” faction had the last laugh because, apart from limited production exotics like the GS Sport (5) and L88 (20), it’s the 1963 coupes that are the most sought-after C2 Corvettes.  At the time, the GSM Flamingo probably was thought to be a final fling for the split-screen but the feature appeared (mounted in a pair of hood covers which opened a la gullwing doors) on the achingly lovely De Tomaso Mangusta (1967-1971) and behind the Iron Curtain, as late as 1975, in Czechoslovakia (the Warsaw Pact’s improbable source of the avant-garde) Tatra still was producing the 603 (1956-1975), the last car in series production with a split rear screen.

Road test of GSM Flamingo V8, Car Magazine, February 1967.

It’s the treatment of the rear glass that tends to dominate the design; the distinctive swept point, splitting the window, created a dramatic, “double-scalloped” rear deck and what was, in effect, a fin.  That was not a whimsical stylistic flourish but a structural necessity to achieve the desired strength without increasing weight by adding reinforcing steel to support the fibreglass skin and was GSM's second attempt to style the rear, the original “breadvan” look having been considered and discarded.  That was indicative of the high development costs and, in an attempt to amortize the investment, production was increased but demand never reached to level necessary to sustain the business and GSM in 1965 ceased trading after building 128 Flamingos and 116 of the earlier Dart roadsters.  That meant the planned version of the Flamingo with a 260 cubic inch (4.2 litre) Ford V8 never came to fruition but one prototype was built using a 221 cubic inch (3.6 litre) version.  It had been a 221 AC in England had been given to install in an Ace; that became the first Shelby American Cobra prototype which, after being shipped to Shelby's Los Angeles operation received a 260, becoming “the first Cobra”.  A V8 Flamingo of course sounds an enticing prospect but when it’s remembered Shelby’s Cobra was financially viable to the extent it was only because of Ford’s corporate support, its prospects of success would likely have been limited to racetracks.

Tuft

Tuft (pronounced tuhft)

(1) A bunch or cluster of small, usually soft and flexible parts, as feathers or hairs, attached or fixed closely together at the base and loose at the upper ends.

(2) A cluster of short, fluffy threads, used to decorate cloth, as for a bedspread, robe, bath mat, or window curtain.

(3) A cluster of cut threads, used as a decorative finish attached to the tying or holding threads of mattresses, quilts, upholstery, etc.

(4) To furnish or decorate with a tuft or tufts; to arrange in a tuft or tufts.

(5) In the upholstery trade, to draw together (a cushion or the like) by passing a thread through at regular intervals, the depressions thus produced being usually ornamented with tufts or buttons.  Tufts are not merely decorative because they secure and strengthen mattresses, quilts, cushions etc; they act to hinder the movement of the stuffing.

(6) In botany, a small clump of trees or bushes.

(7) A gold tassel on the cap once worn by titled undergraduates at English universities, one of the more blatant class identifiers if the UK’s class system; the word tuft was also applied to those entitled to wear such as tassel and from this use evolved the slang "toff".

1350-1400: From the Middle English toft & tofte (bunch of soft and flexible things fixed at the base with the upper ends loose), an alteration of earlier tuffe (which endures in the Modern English tuff), from the Old French touffe, tuffe, toffe & tofe (tuft of hair (and source of the modern French touffe)), from the Late Latin tufa (a crest on a helmet (also found in Late Greek toupha) and probably of Germanic origin (the Old High German was zopf and the Old Norse was toppr (tuft, summit).  The earlier European forms were the Old English þūf (tuft), the Old Norse þúfa (mound), the Swedish tuva (tussock; grassy hillock), from the Proto-Germanic þūbǭ (tube) & þūbaz.  It was akin to the Latin tūber (hump, swelling) and the Ancient Greek τῡ́φη (tū́phē) (cattail (used to stuff beds)).  The excrescent t (as in against) was an English addition and tuft was used as a verb from the 1530s.  In some contexts, bunch, cluster, collection, cowlick, group, knot, plumage, ruff, shock, topknot & tussock can impart a similar meaning but tuft is better for its specific purpose.  Tuft & tufting are nouns & verbs, tufted is a verb & adjective, tufter is a noun, tuftier & tuftiest are adjectives, tufty is a noun & adjective and tuftily is an adverb; the noun plural is tufts.

Little Miss Muffet in Hell (left) and with MWC's (Motor Wheel Corporation) Spyder wheel (right).  Because the use by European manufacturers lent the spelling "spyder with a y" a tinge of the exotic, it was used in US commerce, MWC of Lansing Michigan dubbing one of their "jellybean style" wheels thus.  The wheel, produced in the early 1970s, used the then popular technique of combining a styled aluminun center with a chromed steel rim.  MWC's wheels were highly regarded for quality and the Spyder was produced for use with disc or drum brakes.  Note the latter day Little Miss Muffet's strategic positioning of the tip of the tongue. 

The 1550s noun tuffet (little tuft) was from the Old French touffel (the diminutive suffix -et replacing the French -el) which was a diminutive of touffe.  In English the word is obsolete except for the use in the nursery rhyme Little Miss Muffet which seems first to have appeared in print in 1805 although it (and variations) may have been circulating much earlier.  Etymologists believe Little Miss Muffet’s tuffet was a grassy hillock or a small knoll in the ground (a variant spelling of an obsolete meaning of tuft).  The latter-day use to refer to a hassock or footstool is an example of how (usually obscure) words can acquire meanings if erroneous definitions are often repeated and come to serve some purpose.  Tuffet for example became a favorite of antique dealers who are apt to call both footstools and low seats “tuffets”, a handy practice perhaps when provenance is doubtful.

Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
There came a big spider,
Who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.

Those whose fear of spiders (and other arachnids, such as scorpions and ticks) is so severe as to adversely affect normal life are said to be arachnophobic.  Although one of the most commonly described anxiety disorders, in the current edition (DSM-5-TR) of the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), arachnophobia is not a diagnostic category but is classified as a sub-type of Specific Phobia, Animal Type, a clinical diagnosis typically described as “Specific Phobia, Animal Type (spiders)”.  The DSM’s criteria for a specific phobia include (1) marked fear or anxiety about a specific object or situation, (2) immediate fear response on exposure, (3) active avoidance or intense distress, (4) fear disproportionate to the actual danger, (5) persistence (typically 6+ months) and (6) and clinically significant impairment or distress.  So, one who merely is not fond of spiders would not meet the DSM’s criteria; the fear must be severe enough to impair functioning or cause substantial distress over at least six months.  The irony is that as well as most spiders being small, non-venomous and not at all anxious to attack humans, co-existing with them and their webs in most cases will improve quality of life by culling the insect population.  For those not convinced, arachnophobia can be treated by a number of therapies including (1) systematic desensitization (a gradual exposure to the source of the distress), (2) the adoption of “calming techniques” which can lower the distress response and (3) CBT (cognitive behaviour therapy), a structured, goal-oriented form of psychotherapy focusing on identifying and changing negative or dysfunctional thought patterns and behaviours.  The estimates vary but all research indicates well under 10% of the global population suffer arachnophobia to the extent a clinician would diagnose with women being significantly more affected.

Tufted furnishings aficionado Lindsay Lohan on tufted leather sofa (left) and in bed with tufted bedhead (right).

Critics of interior design tend not to approve of padded or tufted headboards and the shinier or more pillowy the effect, the greater will be the disparagement.  Such critics probably tend to prefer a minimalist aesthetic and condemn anything which doesn’t conform as outdated, excessive or just in poor taste but that aside, there are practical reasons to avoid the padding because the material can over time collect dust, dirt, and oils, something of concern to allergy sufferers.  The designs can also provide hiding places for the dreaded bed bugs.  Still, there are some who like the “generic luxury hotel room” look and argue they’re a kind of safety feature, banging one’s head on some tufted padding a less troubling event than an impact with one of Ikea’s hard, flat surfaces.  Like any bed, there are advantages and drawbacks, some thing made more comfortable, some close to impossible.

Nobleman in full dress at Cambridge (1815) with golden tuft.

The noun toff began as mid nineteenth century lower-class London slang for "a stylish dresser, a man of the smart set".  It was an alteration of tuft, which was a mid-eighteenth century English university (Oxford & Cambridge) term for students who were members of the aristocracy, a reference to the gold ornamental tassel (or tufts) worn on the academic caps (mortarboards) of undergraduates.  Throughout the “long eighteenth century” (a historian’s term which refers for the epoch running from the Glorious Revolution of 1688 to the Congress of Vienna in 1815 (the “long nineteenth” being 1815-1914 and the “long twentieth” 1914-2001 (ie 9/11))), undergraduates at both Oxford and Cambridge were differentiated into four classes: (1) noblemen, (2) gentlemen, (3) commoner-scholars (fellow-commoners at Cambridge) & (4) servitors (sometimes known at Cambridge as sizars and at Oxford as battelers).  Each of these classes of undergraduates was entitled to a different form of dress, noblemen since 1490 (further clarified in 1576) entitled to wear silk and brocaded gowns of bright colors. Such rich materials emphasized noble status, as did the costly dyes. The gowns had flap collars, Tudor bag sleeves with gold lace decorations (akin to the black lace decorations used today on Oxford gimp gowns) and a velvet round cap with a gold tassel (or tuft) was worn.  Noblemen were technically (if misleadingly) nobiles minorum gentium and included the sons of bishops, knights and baronets and, by resolution of Convocation, could include heirs of esquires.

The right to wear the golden tuft was briefly restricted to those with fathers entitled to sit in the House of Lords while those less blue-blooded were allowed only to a plain black tassel but things gradually became less exclusive until the practice was abandoned in the late nineteenth century but the transfer of sense was inevitable: wearers of golden tufts came to be known as tufts.  Those toadies or sycophants (and there were many) who were slavish followers of the tufts were tufthunters and their antics, tufthunting, such individuals and their habits quite identifiable to this day.  By the 1850s, under the influence of the cockney accent, the word had been transformed into toff (some dictionaries of slang noting toft co-existed in the 1850s but this may have been a mishearing) which endures to refer to anyone rich and powerful although the original sense was of someone apparently well-bred.

1912 Stutz Bear Cat (1912-1934); after 1913 they would be dubbed Bearcat (left) and 1915 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost (Chassis 2BD, 40/50; 1906-1926) limousine by H.A. Hamshaw (right).

One of the fastest and most admired American cars of the early era, the Stutz Bearcat assumed such a place in popular culture, it was was claimed that should anyone die (except by suicide) at the wheel of a Stutz Bearcat, they were granted an obituary in the New York Times (NYT).  Wholly apocryphal, the origin of the romantic myth is thought to be related to the Bearcat being a symbol of wealth, adventure, and daring, owned by the sort of chaps (such a lifestyle at the time was most associated with men although women adventurers were not unknown) who would likely anyway warrant an NYT obituary.  The Bear Cat's tufted leather upholstery was typical (though not universal) of the high priced automobiles of the time although already, elaborate fabrics were appearing in vehicles with enclosed passenger compartments which afforded protection from the elements.  The appointments of 1915 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost were opulent even by the coachbuilding standards of the day (the Edwardian traditions still maintained) but the chauffeur's compartment lacked a roof (the body style really a Sedanca de Ville as were many of the early English "limousines") so was still trimmed in tufted leather.  The more sheltered passengers enjoyed carved ivory door handles, beveled glass windows, cut crystal lamps, an inlaid wood folding table, two jump seats, and door pockets, communications to the chauffeur via a tubular intercom.  The lavish upholstery in the rear was tufted, beige West-of-England cloth with embroidered silk window pulls and trim-work, including rear compartment shades and sliding divider although what usually attracts most comment is the elegant, pleated, cloth rosette headliner with its cloudlike billows.   To make journeys more pleasant, a set of leather-wrapped flasks was mounted in the right rear armrest.

1908 Hotchkiss 16-20 hp Type T Roi des Belges (King of the Belgians) Touring Car with tufted red leather (right) and 1917 Packard Twin Six Touring Car with channel tufted black leather (left).  The term “touring car” was never exactly defined and use varied between UK & US manufacturers but typically it described a large, four-door, 4-6 seat open car, supplied with a folding top and (usually optional) temporary side curtains.  The style went extinct but did fork into the phaeton (no top or side-windows) and the four-door cabriolet (or convertible) (a folding top and retractable side windows).  However, even by the 1930s, the old coachwork terms from the days of horse-drawn vehicles had come to be used with such imprecision the descriptions were sometimes little more than vaguely indicative and in the post-war years they meant whatever manufacturers at the time wanted them to mean.

In the matter of upholstery, the word “tufted” has long been synonymous with “deep buttoned” but in the early days of the automobile. Coach-builders and upholsters would offer the option of “channel tufted” trim which essentially was “tufting without the buttons” although it seems almost always to have been executed only with parallel seams (ie nothing on the diagonal).  Probably because what would now be understood as a “pleated” style was more comfortable for sitting on in a moving object, it became popular in the 1920s.  Of course, what the machinists called the “straight tuck-roll” technique was less labour intensive and used smaller quantities of materials so interiors could be trimmed at lower cost so the incentive was there to make the switch.  The revival of button-tufting in the late twentieth century was not an exercise in mere nostalgia but an expression of conspicuous consumption, the “obviously expensive” look making tufting in the big US cars something of a Veblen good.   

1972 Oldsmobile Ninety Eight Regency advertising.

Tufted leather upholstery was common in early automobiles, the seating often exactly the same as those used in horse-drawn carriages, houses or commercial buildings (and certainly gentlemen's clubs).  The practice faded as production volumes increased and as early as the late 1920s was coming to be restricted to only the most expensive models.  This exclusivity tended to prevail until 1972 when Oldsmobile introduced the Regency option for its full-sized Ninety-Eight (sometimes as "98") models, a package, the visual highlight of which was tufted "loose-pillow" velour upholstery (although unlike the use in furniture where the "pillows" were detachable for cleaning, in the Ninety-Eight they were fixed permanently to the seats.  Suddenly, solidly middle-class Oldsmobile (right in the middle of General Motors’ (GM) five-step (Chevrolet-Pontiac-Oldsmobile-Buick-Cadillac) hierarchy; the so-called "Slone ladder" designed to both facilitate and encourage "upward automotive mobility" conceived by Alfred P Sloan (1875–1966;  president of General Motors (GM) 1923-1937 and Chairman of the Board 1937-1946)) had brought both velour and loose-pillow seating to the masses.  The velour was at the time admired by most buyers (though derided by some critics of design) and as tufted upholstery began to proliferate in the industry it was usually offered as a cheaper alternative to leather.  In some climates the velour was probably the better choice and was welcomingly comfortable although in some of the more strident shades of red could recall the popular idea of how a bordello might be furnished.  Presumably, those who'd never enjoyed a visit to a bordello were more disconcerted than regular customers.

1974 Imperial LeBaron four-door hardtop (left) in chestnut tufted leather though not actually “rich Corinthian leather” which was (mostly) exclusive to the Cordoba (1975-1983) until late 1975 when not only did the Imperial's brochures mention "genuine Corinthian leather (available at extra cost)" but for the first time since 1954 the range was referred to as the "Chrysler Imperial", a harbinger the brand was about to be retired.  Imperial's advertising copy noted of the brochure photograph above: “...while the passenger restraint system with starter interlock is not shown, it is standard on all Imperials.”; the marketing types didn't like seat-belts messing up their photos, reminding people cars sometimes crash.  While all of the big three (GM, Ford & Chrysler) had tufted interiors in some lines, it was Chrysler which displayed the most commitment to the motif.

1977 Chrysler (Australia) Valiant Regal SE.

In the era, Chrysler's Australian outpost did cut a few corners when implementing the “pillowed look”, economies achieved by (1) using fewer buttons for the tufting of the fabric or optional leather and (2) attaching the tufted “feature sections” directly to the cushion squab rather than creating an emulated “pillowed” look which appeared to sit atop the structure.  Even by the time of the release of the CL range (1976-1978) the feeling was the writing was on the wall for the once popular Australian Valiant (1962-1981) and the top-of-the-line Regal SE was created in the time-honored Q&D (quick & dirty) way by including all the less Regal’s options as standard equipment; only the tufted upholstery and optional leather was unique to the model.  Sales were modest but there remained devoted following for the Valiant which was durable enough to endure the sometimes harsh environment and it was highly regarded for its towing capabilities, equipped either with the lusty locally-developed 265 cubic inch (4.3 litre) straight-6 or the imported 318 cubic inch (5.2 litre) V8.  Built on the US A-body platform, when production ended in 1981 it had lasted a half-decade longer than the Plymouth and Dodge versions sold in the home market and only in Mexico would use continue until 1988.

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman.

Oldsmobile's move was as audacious and influential as Ford’s introduction in 1965 of the up-market LTD which, like the Regency package, had the effect of cannibalizing sales from other divisions within the same corporation.  Cadillac, although with a range priced considerably above Oldsmobile, offered nothing with such an ostentatious interior though when it did in 1974 respond with its Talisman package (1974-1976), it made sure it did so with more tufted extravagance still, in 1974 offering leather as well as velour.  The trend the Regency package started would last over twenty years and is remembered especially for the tufted fittings used in Imperials, Chryslers and Dodges, the hides used in the Cordoba range (1975-1983) said to be "rich Corinthian leather", an advertising agency creation which meant nothing in particular but sounded vaguely European and therefore expensive.

1985 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz (left), 1977 Chrysler New Yorker Brougham (centre) and 1989 Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham d' Elegance (right).

Color choice made a big difference to the perception of the "tufted look", more subdued hues like green and blue less confronting than the "bordello red" which became emblematic of the industry's phase.  Cadillac called the fabric in the Fleetwood Talisman "Medici crushed velour" which had about the same relationship to historic truth as "fine Corinthian leather" but the package sold well over the three seasons it was offered, despite the option costing almost as much (and the leather significantly more) as some new cars.  Among collectors, the holy grail is a 1974 Fleetwood Talisman trimmed in blue leather; although it was on the option list, none has ever been sighted and the factory's records don't breakdown production between the blue and the alternative "medium saddle" (a medium tan), some of which have been verified.