Beret

Beret (pronounced buh-rey)

A soft, visor-less cap, made usually of a soft wool material or felt, styled with a close-fitting headband and a wide, round top, often with a tab at the center.

1827: From the French béret (round, flat, woolen cap), from the dialectal form béarn, from the Occitan (Gascon) & Old Provençal berret (cap), from the Medieval Latin birrettum (a flat woollen cap that was worn by peasants), a diminutive of the Late Latin birrus (a large hooded cloak), a word perhaps of Gaulish origin but the ultimate root probably was the Proto-Celtic birros (short) and related to the Welsh byr and the Middle Irish berr.  The similar clerical variation is called a biretta and in Spanish, the spelling is boina.  Some military units are associated with the color of their berets (green berets; blue berets etc).  Beret is a noun; the noun plural is berets,

A rendering of the famous photograph of Che Guevara (1928–1967) at the La Coubre memorial service by Alberto Korda (1928-2001), 5 March 1960.

Long culturally associated with France, it may vary in popularity as a fashion piece but it’s never gone away, examples found by archaeologists in bronze age tombs and berets are common in art since Antiquity, notably especially in European sculpture from the twelfth century.  The floppiness certainly varied, apparently in something close to a direct relationship with size, suggesting all were made, as they appeared, from felt or some similar material with the same properties.  Felt was actually one of the oldest forms of processed cloth, a serendipitous creation by the shepherds who, for warmth and comfort, filled their shoes with tufts of wool; as they walked and worked, they sweated and felt was made.  Berets were adopted first by Basque peasants, then royalty, then the military and then artists but in the twentieth century, picked up an anti-establishment association, influenced by French existentialists and the famous photograph of Che Guevara.

Lindsay Lohan in beret, promotional image for Saturday Night Live, episode 37-16, March 2012.

The military, the counterculture and the fashionistas have shared the once humble cap since.  One aspect of it however proved as vulnerable as any object of mass-manufacture to the arithmetic of unit-labour costs and world trade.  In France, early in the post-war years, there had been fifteen beret factories in the district of Oloron-Sainte-Marie in the Pyrénées where most French berets were made yet by the turn of the century there was but one and it catered for only for the upper reaches of the market, catering for those few who simply didn’t wear clothes made east of Suez and Laulhère is the last remaining historic beret-maker still operating in France.  Dating from 1840 when the Laulhère family opened its first factory, such was the struggle to survive the national textile industry crisis as well as the erosion of its market by low-priced products of dubious quality that in 2013 the decision was taken by Laulhère finally to end production.  However, just as Charles de Gaulle (1890-1970; President of France 1959-1969) had une certain idée de la France, upon hearing the news of the closure, the industry decided there was une certaine idée de la mode française and a rescue package was organized by the Gascon based Cargo Group and its sister company, Blancq-Olibet.  In a press release issued almost immediately after the new broke, Cargo Group confirmed they had acted because the beret was “…such an important part of our history and patrimoine (cultural heritage).  Clearly, the beret is as important to the French as the baguette.  Cargo’s business model was simultaneously to use Laulhère’s expertise and skilled workforce to introduce new, more modern lines but maintain the availability of the traditional styles and it appears to have been successful, the classic berets still on sale.  It’s one of those dependable industry staples which can every year be promoted by a label, a magazine or a stylist as one of the trends to watch in the next season.  Unlike something like the polka-dot which tends to be cyclical with sometimes a decade between spikes, the classic, timeless beret is always there, running the gamut from revolutionary chic to French-girl accessory, something able to be worn in all four seasons and the ultimate mix & match fall-back; stripes, spots and vivid or dark solids all available.

Bridget Bardot (b 1934) in beret.

The beret certainly has a long history, floppy head coverings appearing in archaeological record of the Early Bronze Age (circa 3300-2000 BC) and they have remained a feature in European clothing ever since.  At least partially, this was technological determinism in action: felt was the material constantly used and, being non-woven, it is one of the easiest materials to produce without complex machinery or skills.  Felt is made by matting and pressing wet natural fibres (classically wool) and its is famously versatile and durable, peasants favouring it for the linings of jackets, footwear and of course hats, as valued for its warmth as its capacity to resist moisture.  By the seventeenth century, black felt hats (less a fashion choice than it simply being the most simple colour to produce) were virtually an item or uniform among the working class, farmers and artisans although it wasn’t until 1827 the French coined béret, from the Medieval Latin birretum (a flat woollen cap that was worn by peasants).

Bridget Bardot and Andre Bourvil (1917-1970) in Le Trou Normand (Crazy for Love, 1952); it was her first feature film.

This being pre-EEC (European Economic Community (1957), the predecessor of the European Union (1993)) Europe, the beret of course became a political statement and as tensions grew in the mid-nineteenth century between France & Spain, the fashion lines were drawn: French berets were blue and Spanish red although in a gesture which might have pleased the Marxists, the working class everywhere continue to wear black although they were drawn by the price rather than international solidarity (and that too vindicates Marxist theory).  However, it’s from the early twentieth century that historians of fashion trace the ascent of the black beret as an essentially classless chic accessory which could be worn by men & women alike although such are the memories of Bridget Bardot and Catherine Deneuve (b 1943) that about the only men remembered for their berets are revolutionaries, Che Guevara, the Black Panthers and such.  One political aspect of the beret definitely is a myth: it’s not true the Nazis banned the hat during the occupation of France (1940-1944).  The origin of that tale seems to lie in the publication in the 1970s of a number of propaganda suggestions by the SOE (Special Operations Executive, the UK government's department of “dirty tricks” with a mandate to “set Europe ablaze”), one of which was to spread in France the story the Germans were going to “ban the beret”, something with some basis in fact because there was, briefly, a local campaign to deprive Alsatians of the hat, on the basis it was a (Basque) manifestation of Frenchness.  Strange as it sounds, such things had been done before, the UK parliament in 1746 responding to the failure of the Jacobite rising of 1745 by passing the Dress Act which restricted the wearing of tartan in Scotland.  Quickly, Berlin put a stop to the wacky scheme and there's no evidence the SOE's plan was ever used although the organization remained active in the disinformation business.  One curiosity of the crackdown on berets was it didn't extend to onion sellers although that wasn't enough to save Robert Wagner (1895–1946; civil administration of Alsace during the Nazi occupation) who, an unrepentant Nazi to the end, was sentenced to death by a French court and executed.  

Tartan

Tartan (pronounced tahr-tn)

(1) A wool or worsted cloth woven with stripes of different colours and widths crossing at right angles, worn chiefly by the Scottish Highlanders, many clans now having its own distinctive design.

(2) A design now often identified by the name of the clan wearing it and most associated with the kilt.

(3) A generalized descriptor for any similar (sometimes called plaid) design.

(4) A single-masted vessel used in the Mediterranean, usually with a lateen sail (also spelled as tartane).

(5) The trade name of a synthetic resin, used for surfacing tracks etc.

1490-1500: Of uncertain origin, apparently a blend of the Middle English tartaryn (rich material) from the Middle French tartarin (Tartar cloth) and the Middle French tiretaine (strong coarse fabric; linsey-woolsey; cloth of mixed fibers) from the Old French tiret (kind of cloth), from tire (oriental cloth of silk) (and as the French tartane from the Italian tartana, of uncertain origin) from the Medieval Latin tyrius (material from Tyre), from the Classical Latin Tyrus (Tyre).  The origin of the name as applied to the small ship most associated with the Mediterranean, dates from seventeenth century French, probably the Provençal tartana (falcon, buzzard), it being common practice in the era to name ships after birds.  As an adjective meaning "design with a pattern of bars or stripes of color crossing one another at right angles", use began circa 1600.  The etymology of the fabric is certainly murky.  Most agree about the influence of the Old French tertaine but some trace the origin of that not to Latin via Italian but rather the Old Spanish tiritaña (a fine silk fabric) from tiritar (to rustle).  The spelling of tartan must have been influenced in Middle English by tartaryn from the Old French tartarin from Tartare (“Tartar," the people of Central Asia).  Tartan & tartanization are nouns, tartanize & tartaning are verbs and tartaned is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is tartans.

Lindsay Lohan in Royal Stewart tartan, Freaky Friday (Walt Disney Pictures, 2003), costume test photo.

Despite the perception of many (encouraged by the depictions in popular culture), tartan in the sense of specific color & pattern combinations attached to specific clans is something of recent origin.  Tartan (breacan (pɾʲɛxkən) in Scots Gaelic) is a patterned cloth consisting of criss-crossed, horizontal and vertical bands in multiple colours.  The word plaid is now often used interchangeably with tartan (particularly in North America and when not associated with anything Scottish (especially kilts)), but technically (and always in Scotland), a plaid is a large piece of tartan cloth, worn as a type of kilt or large shawl although it’s also used to describe a blanket.  During the disputes between England and Scotland, the wearing of tartan became a political expression and, after the failure of the of the 1745 Jacobite rising, the UK parliament in 1746 passed the Dress Act which restricted the wearing of tartan and displays of other aspects of Gaelic culture in Scotland; it was one of a number of laws designed to suppress the warrior clans north of the border.  Perhaps inspired by this weaponization of fashion, during the Nazi occupation of France (1940-1944), the administrators of Alsace made an attempt to "ban the beret" on the grounds it was a "political symbol of Frenchness" (onion sellers curiously exempt from this crackdown) but the bizarre scheme quickly was ended by Berlin.  The Dress Act was repealed in 1782 and tartan was soon adopted as both the symbolic national dress of Scotland and in imagery more generally.  The Royal Stewart was the personal tartan of Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022) and historically associated with the royal house of Stewart (or Stuart), the dynasty which ruled Scotland from 1371, in 1903 uniting with the English crown in 1603 under James VI of Scotland (1566–1625) who thus became also James I of England and Ireland as James I.

Paired with a denim jacket, Lindsay Lohan in her screen test wore the dress in something of the way in the 1970s it became part of the punk sub-culture but for more conventional types there are also scarves, ties, sashes and such.  There was a time when the convention was it could be worn in Scotland only with the permission of the sovereign but those days are gone and it has long been a most “democratized fabric” to the point where it’s now something of a “universal tartan”, one widely seen in commercial fashion and in that sense is used in parallel with the clan affiliation.  Commonly, it’s worn to formal events such as weddings, ceilidhs, or Burns Nights (readings of the poems of Robert “Rabbie” Burns (1759–1796)), the modern trend to pair a kilt with a Prince Charlie or Argyll jacket, traditionalists adding a sporran (pouch), hose (kilt socks) & flashes, Ghillie brogues (traditional shoes) and even a Sgian dubh (a small dagger tucked in the sock) although carrying the last item may be unlawful in some jurisdictions.  Historians of the fabrics deconstruct the Royal Stewart as: (1) red background (boldness, power & visibility (thus a very “royal” color)), (2) blue & black (lines strength & dignity) and (3) white & yellow stripes (light, honor & distinction).  Remarkably, in the age of identity politics and sensitivity to cultural appropriation, the etiquette guides note there is no objection to non-Scots folk wearing their tartan of choice except when an event is clan-specific in which case only those in the lineage should don the fabric.  That said, even then, the consequence of a tartan faux pas will likely be less severe than wearing a Rangers shirt in a Glasgow pub filled with Celtic’s hoops.

Car seat covers in Clan Lindsay Tartan.  The Clan Lindsay motto is Endure Fort (Endure bravely).  Think about it.

Although there’s now an industry devoted to the tartans of the clans, the specific association of patterns with clans and families began only in the mid-nineteenth century.  This history was both technological and economic deterministic.  Unlike some fabrics, tartans were produced by local weavers for local sale, using only the natural dyes available in that geographical area and patterns were just designs chosen by the buyer.  It was only with a broader availability of synthetic dyes that many patterns were created these began (somewhat artificially) to become associated with Scottish clans, families, or institutions wishing to emphasize their Scottish heritage.  The heritage was usually real but not often specific to a particular tartan, the mid-nineteenth century interest in the fabrics a kind of manufactured nostalgia.  There are many modern tartans on sale, the color combinations and patterns of which are chosen for market appeal rather than any relationship to clan identity or any other historic link: Among the purists, these collectively are called "the clan McGarish".  The phrase "Tartan Tory" does not refer to Scottish members of the Conservative Party (a once prolific species which has for decades been listed as "threatened" and may already be functionally extinct) but to the faction of the Scottish National Party (SNP) which is associated with cultural nostalgia rather than radical nationalist politics.

1976 Porsche 914 2.0 with factory-fitted heckblende in Nepal Orange over black leatherette with orange & black plaid inserts.  All the mid-engined 914 built for public sale had a targa top although for use in competition the factory did a few with a fixed roof to gain additional rigidity.  The 914 was the first of a number of attempts by Porsche’s engineers to convince customers there were better configurations than the rear-engine layout used on the 911 & 912.  The customers continued to demand 911s and, the customer always being right, rear-engined 911s remain available to this day.

These days, a designer might, for the right design, for a certain target market use orange paint or orange & black plaid but it's unlikely they'd be seen in combination; it'd be sort of like mixing spots & stripes.  The 1970s however were different and, for better and worse, there was more adventurism on the color charts although, regrettably, polka-dot upholstery never caught on.  The last Porsche 914s (1969-1976) were sold in 1976 but because the new 924 (1976-1988) wasn’t ready for production, to create an “entry-level” model for the vital US market, the factory resurrected the 912.  The original 912 (1965-1969) was essentially a four-cylinder 911 (1964-) with less elaborate appointments and fitted with a version of the 1.6 litre flat-four used in 356 (1946-1965) but the 1976 912E used the 2.0 litre Volkswagen unit from the 914 because the older engine had never been modified to comply with the new emission control rules.  The single-season 912E was an unexpected swansong for the 912 and although some 30% cheaper than the contemporary 911S, it sold in only one fifth the volume, a telling comparison with the mid 1960s when the 912 initially out-sold the 911.  So barely more than 2,000 912Es were built and the aftermarket was for decades subdued but the survival rate was high and although the prices realized don’t match the 912s of the 1960s (let alone the six cylinder cars), the 912E is now appreciated as a practical, well-built and surprisingly economical machine so prices have been rising.

High-priced plaid

1955 Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing (W198) trimmed in blue-grey plaid.  The factory option codes for the plaid were L1 Blaugrau (blue-grey), L2 Rot-Grün (red-green) & L3 Grün-Beige (green-beige).

Buyers of the Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing (W198, 1954-1957) had the choice of seats covered in leather or plaid cloth.  In the years since, many Gullwings originally fitted with plaid upholstery were re-trimmed in leather during refurbishment or restoration, partly because the leather was thought to have more of a allure but also because for decades fabrics exactly matching what was available in the 1950s had become unobtainable (unobtainium thus the preferred industry term).  However, in 2018, in what was said to be a response to "demand", Daimler announced bolts replicating exactly the original three designs (L1 Blaugrau (blue-grey), L2 Rot-Grün (red-green) & L3 Grün-Beige (green-beige)) would again be available as factory part-numbers.  Manufactured to the 1955 specification using an odor-neutral wool yarn woven into a four-ply, double weave twill, it’s claimed to be a “very robust material”.  In the era, the blue-grey fabric was the most popular, fitted to 80% of 300SLs not trimmed in leather while the red-green and green-beige combinations were requested respectively only by 14 & 6% of buyers.  The price (quoted in 2018 at US$229 per yard) was indicative of the product’s niche market but for those restoring a 300 SL to its original appearance, it's a bargain.  The fabric may be ordered from the Mercedes-Benz Klassisches Zentrum (Classic Centre).

1955 Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing (W198; chassis 5500428; Engine 198.980.5500455 & body 5500411 and factory-fitted with the Rudge Wheel option), refurbished by Paul Russell & Company, Essex, Massachusetts (Leder rot (red leather) 1079 (left) and non-original Rot-Weiß (red-white plaid) (right)) .  Note the strapped-down luggage in the "head-rest" position.

Now bolts of fabric replicating the construction and appearance of the originals are available, restorers are able even more closely to replicate the appearance of seven-odd decades ago.  With chassis 5500428, Paul Russell & Company re-painted and re-trimmed to the original factory specifications (Graphitgrau (Graphite Grey) DB190 over Leder rot (red leather) 1079) but also included an interchangeable set of seat cushions and squabs in a non-original red-white plaid.  Additionally, the company fabricated a reproduction of the matching luggage set and while restorers have long been able, at a price, to recreate just about anything constructed from metal, timber and metal, in recent years the industry has been transformed with the advent of large scale 3D printers meaning even plastic parts can be formed from either specifications or scans of an original.  The 1955 design for the location of the luggage was thoughtful and a fine example of space utilization but, cognizant of Sir Isaac Newton's (1642–1727) laws of motion, today's regulators would be less than pleased.  In April, 2025, the car was offered for sale on the Bring-a-Trailer on-line auction site.

The part-numbers for the bolts of fabric: L1 Blue-Grey (A 000 983 44 86 / 5000), L2 Red-Green (A 000 983 44 86 / 3000) & L3 Green-Beige (A 000 983 44 86 / 6000).

Polka

Polka (pronounced pohl-kuh or poh-kuh)

(1) A lively couple dance of Bohemian origin, with music in duple meter (three steps and a hop, in fast duple time).

(2) A piece of music for such a dance or in its rhythm.

(3) To dance the polka.

(4) As polka-dot (sometimes polka dot or polkadot), a dot or round spot (printed, woven, or embroidered) repeated to form a pattern on a surface, especially textiles; a term for anything (especially clothing) with this design.

1844: From the French polka, from the German Polka, probably from the Czech polka, (the dance, literally "Polish woman" (Polish Polka), feminine form of Polak (a Pole).  The word might instead be a variant of the Czech půlka (half (půl the truncated version of půlka used in special cases (eg telling the time al la the English “half four”))) a reference to the half-steps of Bohemian peasant dances; it may even have been a merger of both.  The dance first came into vogue in 1835 in Prague, reaching London in the spring of 1842; Johann Strauss the younger (1825-1899) wrote many polkas.  Polka was a verb by 1846 as (briefly) was polk and notoriously, the fabric pattern sometimes is mispronounced as "poke-a-dot".  Polka is a noun & verb, polka, polka-dot & polkabilly are nouns and polka-like is an adjective; the noun plural is polkas.

Lindsay Lohan in polka-dot dress, Los Angeles, 2010.

Polka-dot (a pattern consisting of dots (usually) uniform in size and arrangement) is used especially on women’s clothing (men seem permitted accessories such as ties, socks, scarves, handkerchiefs etc) and is attested from 1851 although both polka-spot and polka-dotted are documented in 1849.  

Why the name came to be associated with the then widely popular dance is unknown but most speculate it was likely an associative thing, spotted dresses popular with the Romani (Roma; Traveller; Gypsy) girls who often performed the polka dance.  Fashion journals note that, in the way of such things, the fad faded fast but there was a revival in 1873-1874 and the polka-dot since has never gone away, waxing and waning in popularity but always there somewhere.

In fashion, it’s understood that playing with the two primary variables in polka-dot fabrics (the color mix and the size of the dots) radically can affect the appeal of an outfit.  The classic black & white combination of course never fails but some colors just don’t work together, either because the contrast in insufficient or because the mix produces something ghastly.  Actually, combinations judged ghastly if rendered in a traditional polka dot can successfully be used if the dots are small enough in order to produce something which will appear at most angles close to a solid color yet be more interesting because of the effect of light and movement.  However, once dots are too small, the design ceases to be a polka dot.  It’s not precisely defined what the minimum size of a dot need to be but, as a general principle, its needs to be recognizably “dotty” to the naked eye at a distance of a few feet.

Why Men Like Straight Lines and Women Like Polka Dots: Gender and Visual Psychology (2014) by Professor Gloria Moss.

There’s also the sexual politics of the polka dot, Gloria Moss, Professor of Marketing & Management at Buckinghamshire New University and a visiting professor at the Ecole Superieure de Gestion (ESG) in Paris exploring the matter in her book Why Men Like Straight Lines and Women Like Polka Dots: Gender and Visual Psychology (Psyche Books, 2014, pp 237).  An amusing mix which both reviews the academic literature and flavors the text with anecdotes, Dr Moss constructs a thesis in which the preferences of men and their designs lie in the origins of modern humanity and the need for hunters to optimize their vision on distant horizons while maintaining sufficient peripheral vision to maintain situational awareness, threats on the steppe or savannah coming from any direction.  So men focus of straight line, ignoring color or extraneous detail unless either are essential to the hunt and thus survival, perhaps of the whole tribe.  By contrast, women’s preferences are rooted in the daily routine of the gatherer those millions of years ago, vision focused on that which was close, the nuts and berries to be picked and the infants with their rounded features to be nurtured.  From this came the premium afforded to responsiveness to round shapes, color contrasts and detail.  Being something of an intrusion into the world of the geneticists and anthropologists, reaction to the book wasn't wholly positive but few can have found reading it dull or unchallenging.  Of course, it won't surprise women that in men there is still much of the stone age but, for better or worse, Dr Moss concluded some of them belong there too.

Singer Ariana Grande (b 1993) and her equally famous “snatched high ponytail” in Fendi polka-dots, 2025 MTV Video Music Awards, UBS Arena, Elmont, New York, September 2025.

Over the last few decades, although the popularity on the catwalks would come and go, in the high streets shop-fronts or the on-line catalogues, polka-dots have never disappeared.  Despite that, in April 2025 Vogue magazine announced polka-dots were “making a comeback” for the (northern) spring & summer season by which it seems to have meant the look was returning to designer collections, having apparently been of late consigned to “Holland Park mums on the school run or brunching on the King’s Road”.  Thoughtfully, the magazine included the now obligatory trigger warning, this time urging caution on the trypophobic (those suffering from trypophobia (an obsessive or irrational fear of patterns or clusters of small holes)).  Noting the design’s history of association with the “prim and proper”, Vogue suggested the fabric could be “toughened up with leather” or “mixed with bold colour”, suggesting the striking juxtaposition of “a floaty polka dot dress with your most worn-in leather boots.”  In such matters, Vogue’s editors are the pros and say however it’s done, the trick is “fully to commit”.

Vincent Siriano's Spring/Summer 2026 Ready-to-Wear Collection at Macy’s Herald Square, New York City, September 2025.

US designer Vincent Siriano (b 1985) doubtlessly well knows fashion's classic maxim (one of many): “Don’t mix spots and stripes” but clearly he’s not afraid to disrupt what had become something of an orthodoxy.  It wasn’t always that way and in the 1950s and 1960s when houses often would introduce their lines in the well-upholstered surrounds of up-market department stores, it wasn’t unknown for spots & stripes peacefully to coexist, sometimes in quite striking color combinations.  Whether coincidental or not, Mr Siriano chose to debut his Spring/Summer 2026 Ready-to-Wear Collection at Macy’s Herald Square, now thought a hub more for tourism than fashion.  According to the designer, the nostalgic nod reflected his fondness for such places (or at least what they used to be) and his “ethos of inclusivity and accessibility in the fashion industry.”  Presumably, the store’s sponsorship money made it an especially good place to put a catwalk.

Vincent Siriano's Spring/Summer 2026 Ready-to-Wear Collection at Macy’s Herald Square, New York City, September 2025.

Whether or not with stripes, the black & white polka-dots were eye-catching but what attracted some were the gigot sleeves.  Variously implemented, gigots were billowingly full at the shoulder, diminishing in volume around the elbow before gradually becoming tight at the wrist; the French gigot translating literally as “leg” (and used usually of livestock), in industry slang they were known as the “leg of mutton sleeve”.  In the nineteenth century, the puffy style came and went several times before a few revivals in the 1960s & 1970s were thought to have forever buried the look.  One of the reasons for the sudden “extinction of 1896” was that stylistically it had nowhere to go but “bigger” and the gigot by then truly could be monstrous, some garments demanding 2½ yards (2¼ metres) of material.  The most extreme could retain their shape only with the use of internal whalebone hoops but the development of lightweight plastics and synthetic fabrics meant the gigot’s post-war resurrection was more manageable for both makers and wearers although their impracticality rendered the most voluminous a catwalk item with all that implies.  Mr Siriano including them in 2026 in a “ready-to-wear” collection shouldn’t be taken too literally but he's serious about the polka-dots and indications are they're back in numbers for another season.  It's a welcome return.

Cosmopolitan

Cosmopolitan (pronounced koz-muh-pol-i-tn)

(1) One free from local, provincial, or national ideas, prejudices, or attachments; an internationalist.

(2) One with the characteristics of a cosmopolite.

(3) A cocktail made with vodka, cranberry juice, an orange-flavored liqueur, and lime juice.

(4) Sophisticated, urbane, worldly.

(5) Of plants and animals, wildly distributed species.

(6) The vanessa cardui butterfly.

(7) A moth of species Leucania loreyi.

1828:  An adoption in Modern English, borrowed from the French cosmopolite (citizen of the world), ultimately derived from the Ancient Greek kosmopolitēs (κοσμοπολίτης), the construct being kósmos (κόσμος) (world) + politēs (πολίτης) (citizen); word being modeled on metropolitan.  The US magazine Cosmopolitan was first published in 1886.  Derived forms (hyphenated and not) have been constructed as needed including noncosmopolitan, subcosmopolitan, ultracosmopolitan, fauxcosmopolitan, anticosmopolitan & protocosmopolitan.  Because cosmopolitanness is a spectrum condition, the comparative is “more cosmopolitan” and the superlative “most cosmopolitan”.  Cosmopolitan is a noun & adjective, cosmopolitanism & cosmopolitanness are nouns, cosmopolitanize is a verb, cosmopolitanist is an adjective (and plausibly a noun) and cosmopolitanly is an adverb; the noun plural is cosmopolitans.

An aspect of Soviet Cold War policy under comrade Stalin

The phrase rootless cosmopolitans was coined in the nineteenth century by Vissarion Belinsky (1811-1848), a Russian literary critic much concerned about Western influences on both Russian literature and society.  He applied it to writers he felt “…lacked Russian national character” but as a pejorative euphemism, it’s now an anti-Semitic slur and one most associated with domestic policy in the Soviet Union (USSR) between 1946 and Stalin's death in 1953.  Comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) liked the phrase and applied it to the Jews, a race of which he was always suspicious because he thought their lack of a homeland made them “mystical, intangible and other-worldly”.  Not a biological racist like Hitler and other rabid anti-Semites, Stalin’s enemies were those he perceived a threat; Leon Trotsky (1879-1940), Grigory Zinoviev (1883–1936) and Lev Kamenev (1883–1936) were disposed of not because they were Jewish but because Stalin thought they might threaten his hold on power although the point has been made that while it wasn’t because he was Jewish that Trotsky was murdered, many Jews would come to suffer because Stalin associated them with Trotsky.

Comrade Stalin signing death warrants.

It was the same with institutions.  He found disturbing the activities of Moscow’s Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee (JAC) and did not approve them being accepted by Western governments as representing the USSR.  Further, he feared the JAC’s connections with foreign powers might create a conduit for infiltration by Western influences; well Stalin knew the consequences of people being given ideas; the campaign of 1946-1953 was thus more analogous with the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) opposition to the Falun Gong rather than the pogroms of Tsarist times.  Authoritarian administrations don’t like independent organisations; politics needs to be monolithic and control absolute.  In a speech in Moscow in 1946, he described certain Jewish writers and intellectuals, as “rootless cosmopolitans” accusing them of a lack of patriotism, questioning their allegiance to the USSR.  This theme festered but it was the creation of the state of Israel in 1948, fostering as it did an increased self consciousness among Soviet Jews, combined with the Cold War which turned Stalin into a murderous anti-Semite.

Rootless cosmopolitan comrade Trotsky, murdered with an ice axe on comrade Stalin's orders.

Before the formation of the state of Israel, Stalin's anti-Semitism was more a Russian mannerism than any sort of obsession.  For years after assuming absolute power in the USSR, he expressed no disquiet at the preponderance of Jews in the foreign ministry and it was only in 1939, needing a temporary diplomatic accommodation with Nazi Germany, that he acted.  Having replaced the Jewish Foreign Commissar, Maxim Litvinov (1876–1951; People's Commissar for Foreign Affairs of the Soviet Union 1930–1939) with Vyacheslav Molotov (1890-1986; USSR Minister of Foreign Affairs 1939-1949 & 1953-1956), he ordered him to purge the diplomatic corps of Jews, his memorable phrase being "clean out the synagogue".  Concerned the presence of Jews might be an obstacle to rapprochement with Hitler, Stalin had the purge effected with his usual efficiency: many were transferred to less conspicuous roles and others were arrested or shot.

Meeting of minds: Joachim von Ribbentrop (left), comrade Stalin (centre) and comrade Molotov (right), the Kremlin, 23 August 1939.

Negotiations began in the summer of 1939, concluding with German Foreign Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945) leading a delegation to Moscow to meet with Molotov and Stalin.  It proved a remarkably friendly conference of political gangsters and agreement was soon reached, the German-Soviet Nonaggression Pact (usually called the Nazi-Soviet Pact or Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact) being signed on 23 August.  The pact contained also a notorious secret protocol by which the two dictators agreed to a carve-up of Poland consequent upon the impending Nazi invasion and the line dividing Poland between the two was almost identical to the Curzon Line, a demarcation between the new Polish Republic created in the aftermath of World War I (1914-1918) and the emergent Soviet Union which had been proposed by Lord Curzon (1859–1925; UK foreign secretary 1919-1924).  At the Yalta Conference in 1945, during the difficult negotiations over Polish borders, Molotov habitually referred to "the Curzon Line" and the UK Foreign Secretary, Anthony Eden (1897–1977; thrice UK foreign secretary & prime minister 1955-1957), in a not untypically bitchy barb, observed it was more common practice to call it the “Molotov-Ribbentrop line”.  "Call it whatever you like" replied Stalin, "we still think it's fair and just".  Comrade Stalin rarely cared much to conceal the nature of the regime he crafted in his own image.  When asked by Franklin Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, US president 1933-1945) if Molotov had been to New York during his visit to the US, Stalin replied: "No, he went to Chicago to be with the other gangsters".

Whatever the motives of Stalin, rootless cosmopolitans has joined the code of dog-whistle politics, a part of the core demonology to label the Jews a malign race, a phrase in the tradition of "Christ killers", "Rothschild-Capitalists and Untermenschen (the sub-humans).  Despite that, there are always optimists, Jewish writer Vincent Brook (b 1946), suggesting the term could convey the positive, a suggestion the Jews possess an “adaptability and empathy for others”.  It’s not a view widely shared and rootless cosmopolitan remains an anti-Semitic trope although it's not unknown for Jews to use it ironically.

The Cosmopolitan cocktail

A brace of Cosmos.

The Cosmopolitan was based on the "Cosmopolitan 1934" cocktail, a mix from inter-war New York which included gin, Cointreau & and lemon juice, raspberry syrup lending the trademark pink hue.  The modern Cosmopolitan was also concocted in New York and seems to have appeared first in the Mid-1980s although it was appearances in the HBO (Home Box Office) television series Sex and the City (1998-2004) which made it as emblematic of a certain turn-of-the-millennium New York lifestyle as Manolo Blahnik’s stilettos but, the implications of that connotation aside, the enticing pink drink survived to remain a staple of cocktail lists.  Cosmopolitans can be made individually or as a batch to be poured from a pitcher; just multiply the ingredient count by however many are to be served.

Ingredients

2 oz (¼ cup) vodka (or citrus vodka according to taste)

½ ounce (1 tablespoon) triple sec, Cointreau (or Grand Marnier)

¾ oz (1½ tablespoons) cranberry juice

¼-½ ounce (1 ½-3 teaspoons) fresh lime juice

One 2-inch (50 mm) orange peel/twist

Instructions

(1) Add vodka, Cointreau, cranberry juice, and lime juice to a cocktail shaker filled with ice.

(2) Shake until well chilled.

(3) Strain into a chilled cocktail glass (classically a coupé or Martini glass).

(4) An orange or lemon twist is the traditional garnish.

Notes

(1) As a general principle, the higher the quality of the vodka, the better the Cosmopolitan, the lower priced sprits tending to taste rather more abrasive which for certain purposes can be good but doesn’t suit a “Cosmo”.

(2) The choice of unsweetened or sweetened cranberry juice (the latter sold sometimes as “cranberry juice cocktail”) is a matter of taste and if using the unsweetened most will prefer if a small splash of sugar syrup (or agave) is added because tartness isn’t associated with a Cosmopolitan.

(3) There is however a variant which is sometimes mixed deliberately to be tart.  That’s the “White Cosmo”, made by using white cranberry juice.

(4) Of the orange liqueur: Most mixologists recommend Cointreau but preference is wholly subjective and Cointreau & Grand Marnier variously are used, the consensus being Cointreau (a type of Triple Sec) is smoother, stronger and more complex.  Grand Marnier is also a type of Triple Sec, one combined with Cognac so the taste is richer, nutty and caramelized which some prefer.

(5) Of the lime juice: It really is worth the effort to cut and squeeze a fresh lime.  Packaged lime juice will work but something of the bite of the citrus always is lost in the processing, packaging, storage and transporting the stuff endures.

(6) Art of the orange peel: The use of the term “garnish” of suggests something which is merely decorative: visual bling and ultimately superfluous but because cocktails are designed to be sipped, as one lingers over ones’s Cosmopolitan, from the peel will come a faint orange aroma, adding to the experience as the fumes of a cognac enhance things; spirits and cocktails are “breathed in” as well as swallowed.

(7) Science of the orange peel: When peeling orange, do it over glass so the oil spurting (viewed close-up under high-magnification, it really is more spurt than spray) from the pores in the skin ends up in the drink.  For the ultimate effect, rub the rim of the glass with the peel, down a half-inch on the outside so lips can enjoy the sensation.

The presidential “parade convertible” 1950 Lincoln Cosmopolitan, parked outside 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington DC.

In the US, the Ford Motor Company (FoMoCo) produced the Lincoln Cosmopolitan between 1949-1954 but only in its first season was it the “top-of-the-range” model, “designation demotion” something which would over the decades become popular in Detroit.  Political legend has it Harry Truman (1884–1972; US president 1945-1953) personally selected Lincoln to supply the presidential car fleet as an act of revenge against General Motors (GM), the corporation having declined to provide him with cars to use during the 1948 election campaign.  It’s assumed GM’s management was reading the polls and assumed they’d need only to wait to wait for a call from president elect Thomas Dewey (1902–1971) but as things turned out, Mr Dewey never progressed beyond president-presumptive so GM didn’t get the commission, the keys to Cadillacs not returning to the Oval Office until the administration of Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989).  While it wouldn’t much have consoled the GM board, there was some of their technology in the Lincolns because, FoMoCo was compelled to buy heavy-duty Hydra-Matic transmissions from Cadillac, their own automatic gearbox not then ready for production.

The presidential “parade convertible” 1950 Lincoln Cosmopolitan with “Bubbletop” fitted.

The White House leased ten Lincoln Cosmopolitans which were modified by coach-builders who added features such as longer wheelbases and raised roof-lines.  Nine were full-enclosed limousines while one was an armoured “parade convertible” (a “cabriolet D” in the Mercedes-Benz naming system) which was an impressive 20-odd feet (6 metres) in length.  The car used a large-displacement version of the old Ford flathead V8 (introduced in 1932) and weighing a hefty 6,500 lb (2,900 kg), performance wasn’t sparkling but given its role was slowly to percolate along crowd-lined boulevards, it was “adequate.  In 1954, during the administration of Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; US president 1953-1961), the parade convertible was fitted with a Plexiglas roof (a material the president would have been familiar with because it was used on some World War II (1939-1945) aircraft and in this form the Lincoln came to share the aircrafts’ nickname: “Bubbletop”.  The “Bubbletop” Cosmopolitan remained in service in the White House fleet until 1967.

The Glossies

Lindsay Lohan, Cosmopolitan, various international editions: April, May & June, 2006.

Cosmopolitan Magazine was launched in 1886 as a family journal of fashion, household décor, cooking, and other domestic interests.  It survived in a crowded market but its publisher did not and within two years Cosmopolitan was taken over by another which added book reviews and serialized fiction to the content.  This attracted the specialist house founded by John Brisben Walker (1847-1931), which assumed control in 1889, expanding its circulation twenty-fold to become one of America’s most popular literary magazines.  The Hurst Corporation acquired the title in 1905, briefly adding yellow-journalism before settling on a format focused on short fiction, celebrities and public affairs.  The formula proved an enduring success, circulation reaching two million by 1940 and this was maintained until a decline began in the mid 1950s, general-interest magazines being squeezed out by specialist titles and the time-consuming steamroller of television.

It was the appointment in 1965 of Helen Gurley Brown (1922–2012) as editor which signalled Cosmopolitan’s shift to a magazine focused exclusively on an emerging and growing demographic with high disposable income: the young white women of the baby boom.  In what proved a perfect conjunction, a target market with (1) economic independence, (2) social freedom, (3) an embryonic feminist awareness and (4) the birth control pill, the magazine thrived, surviving even the rush of imitators its success spawned.  Gurley Brown had in 1962 published the best seller advice manual, Sex and the Single Girl and Cosmopolitan essentially, for decades, reproduced variations on the theme in a monthly, glossy package.  It was clearly a gap in the market.  The approach was a success but there was criticism.  Conservatives disliked the choices in photography and the ideas young women were receiving.  Feminists were divided, some approved but others thought the themes regressive, a retreat from the overtly political agenda of the early movement into something too focused on fun and fashion, reducing women yet again to objects seeking male approbation.

Taylor Swift (b 1989), in purple on the cover of Cosmopolitan, December, 2014.

Still published in many international editions, Cosmopolitan Australia was one casualty of market forces, closed after a final printing in December 2018.  However, surprising many, Katarina Kroslakova (b 1978) in April 2024 announced her publishing house KK Press, in collaboration with New York-based Hearst Magazines International, would resume production of Cosmopolitan Australia as a bi-monthly and the first edition of the re-launched version was released in August, 2024.  Other than appearing in six issues per year rather than the traditional twelve, the format remained much the same, echoing Elle Australia which re-appeared on newsstands in March, ending a four-year hiatus.  Both revivals would as recently as 2023 have surprised industry analysts because the conventional, post-Covid wisdom was there existed in this segment few niches for time consuming and expensive titles in glossy print.

Amelia Dimoldenberg (b 1994) in polka-dots, on the cover of Cosmopolitan Australia April | May, 2025 (Issue 5, digital edition) which is downloadable file (96 MB in Adobe's PDF (portable document format) format.  Where digital titles have a history in print, the convention is to use the traditional cover format.  Even in the digital age, some legacy items have a genuine value to be exploited.

Ms Kroslakova clearly saw a viable business model and was quoted as saying print magazines are “the new social media” which was an interesting way of putting it but she explained the appeal by adding: “We need that 15 minutes to drop everything and actually have something tangible and beautiful in our hands to consume.  If we can present content which is multi-layered and deep and has authenticity and connection with the reader – that’s a really excellent starting point.”  She may have a point because in an age where screen-based content is intrinsically impermanent, the tactile pleasure of the traditional glossy may have genuine appeal, at least for an older readership who can remember the way things used to be done, something perhaps hinted at by her “15 minutes” reference, now regarded by many media analysts as a long-term connection given the apparent shortening of attention spans and after all, bound glossy pages are just another technology.  The revival of the print editions of Elle and Cosmopolitan will be an interesting experiment in a difficult economic environment which may get worse before it gets better.  Whether the novelty will attract enough of the "affluent readers" (what used to be called the A1, A2 & B1 demographic) to convince advertisers that it's a place to run their copy will likely decide the viability of the venture and while it's not impossible that will happen, Cosmopolitan is a couple of rungs down the ladder from the "prestige" titles (Vogue the classic mainstream example) which have maintained an advertising base. Cosmopolitan Australia offers a variety of subscription offers, the lowest unit cost available with a two-year, print + digital bundle (12 issues for Aus$105).

Lindsay Lohan on the cover of Cleo: March 2005 (left) and May 2009 (right).

Published in Australia between 1972-2016, Cleo was a monthly magazine targeted broadly at the demographic buying Cosmopolitan.  It was for decades successful and although there was some overlap in readership (and certainly advertising content), there was a perception there existed as distinct species “Cleo women” and “Cosmo women”.  Flicking through the glossy pages, husbands and boyfriends might have struggled to see much thematic variation although it’s likely they looked only at the pictures.  In the same vein, other than the paint, actual Cleo & Cosmo readers mostly probably wouldn’t have noticed much difference between Ford & Chevrolet V8s so it’s really a matter of where one’s interests lie (just because something is sexist stereotyping doesn’t mean it’s not true).  Had the men bothered to read the editorial content, they wouldn’t have needed training in textual deconstruction to detect both titles made much use of “cosmospeak”, a sub-dialect of English coined to describe the jargon, copy style and buzzwords characteristic of post 1950s Cosmopolitan magazine which contributed much to the language of non-academic “lipstick feminism”.  To summarize the market differentiation in women’s magazines, the industry joke was: “Cosmopolitan teaches you how to have an organism, Cleo teaches you how to fake an organism and the Women’s Weekly teaches you how to knit an organism”.  As a footnote, when in 1983 the Women’s Weekly changed from a weekly to monthly format, quickly rejected was the idea the title might be changed to “Women’s Monthly”.

Martyrdom of the Saints Cosmas and Damian, oil on canvas by Fra Angelico (Guido di Pietro, circa 1395-1455), Musée du Louvre, Paris, France).  Fra was from the Italian frate (monk) and was a title for a Roman Catholic monk or friar (equivalent to Brother).

“Cleo” was a spunky two syllables but “Cosmopolitan” had a time-consuming five so almost universally it was used as “Cosmo”.  In Italy, Cosmo is a male given name and a variant of Cosimo, from the third century saint Cosmas who, with his brother Damian, was martyred in Syria during one of the many crackdowns on Christianity.  The name was from the Ancient Greek κόσμος (kósmos) (order, ordered universe), source of the now familiar “cosmos”.  Cosmas and Damian were Arab physicians who converted to Christianity and while ostensibly they suffered martyrdom for their faith, there may have been a financial motive because the brothers practiced much “free medicine”, not charging the poor for their “cures” so their services were understandably popular and thus a threat to the business model of the politically well-connected medical establishment.  The tension between medicine as some sort of social right and an industry run by corporations for profit has occasionally been suppressed but it’s never gone away, illustrated by the battles fought when the (literally) socialist post-war Labour government (1945-1951) established the UK’s NHS (National Health Service) and the (allegedly) socialist “Obamacare” (Affordable Care Act (ACA, 2010)) became law in the US.  By the twenty-first century, the medical establishment could no longer arrange decapitations of cut-price competitors threatening the profit margins but the conflicts remain, witness the freelancing of Luigi Mangione (1998).

The Mazda Cosmo

1968 Mazda Cosmo 110S (110S the export designation).

Although the Mazda corporation dates from 1920, it was another 40 years before it produced its first cars (one of the tiny 360 cm³ “kei cars” (a shortened form of kei-jidōsha, (軽自動車) (light vehicle)) so the appearance at the Tokyo Motor Show of the Cosmo Sport created quite an impression and that it was powered by a two-rotor Wankel rotary engine produced under licence from the German owners added to international interest.  Over two series, series production lasted from 1967 until 1972 but the intricate design was labour intensive to build and being expensive, demand was limited so in five years fewer than 1,200 were sold.  That makes it more of a rarity than a Mercedes-Benz 300 SL Gullwing (the W198, 1,400 of those built 1954-1957) and while Cosmo prices haven’t reached the level of the German car, it is a collectable and a number are now in museums and collections.  Mazda continued to use the Cosmo name until 1996 and while none of the subsequent models were as intriguing as the original, some versions of the JC Series Eunos Cosmo (1990–1996) enjoy the distinction of being the world’s only production car fitted with a three-rotor Wankel engine (the 1969 Mercedes-Benz C111 was a Wankel test-bed). 

1975 Mazda Roadpacer (HJ model)

The Eunos Cosmo was not the only Mazda with a unique place in the troubled history of the Wankel engine, the Roadpacer (1975-1977) also a footnote.  Most Holden fans, as one-eyed as any, don’t have especially fond memories of the HJ (1974-1976) range; usually, all they’ll say is its face-lifted replacement (the HX (1976-1977)), was worse.  With its chassis not including the RTS (radial tuned suspension) which lent the successor HZ (1975-1980) such fine handling and with engines strangled by the crude plumbing used in the era to reduce emissions, driving the HJ or HX really wasn’t a rewarding experience (although the V8 versions retained some charm) so there might have been hope Mazda’s curious decision to use fit their smooth-running, two-rotor Wankel to the HJ Premier and sell it as their top-of-the range executive car might have transformed the thing.  That it did but the peaky, high-revving rotary was wholly unsuited to the relatively large, heavy car.  Despite producing less power and torque than even the anaemic 202 cubic inch (3.3 litre) Holden straight-six it replaced, so hard did it have to work to shift the weight that fuel consumption was worse even than when Holden fitted their hardly economical 308 cubic inch (5.0 litre) V8 for the home market.  Available only in Japan and sold officially between 1975-1977, fewer than eight-hundred were built, the company able to off-load the last of the HXs only in early 1980.  The only thing to which Mazda attached its name not mentioned in their corporate history, it's the skeleton in the Mazda closet and the company would prefer we forget the thing which it seems to think of as "our Edsel".  The Roadpacer did though provide one other footnote, being the only car built by General Motors (GM) ever sold with a Wankel engine.  

The archbishop and the abdication

Archbishop Cosmo Gordon Lang (1932), oil on canvas by Anglo-Hungarian society portraitist Philip Alexius László de Lombos (1869–1937 and known professionally as Philip de László).  Lang was christened Cosmo in honor of the local Laird (in Scotland, historically a feudal lord and latterly the “courtesy title” of an area’s leading land-owner, most prominent citizen etc).  The noun Laird was from the northern or Scottish Middle English lard & laverd (a variant of lord).

Scottish Anglican prelate Cosmo Gordon Lang (First Baron Lang of Lambeth, 1864–1945; Archbishop of York 1908–1928 & Archbishop of Canterbury 1928–1942 was a clergyman with uncompromising views about much.  This type was once common in pulpits and although those of his faction exist still in the the modern Church of England, fearing cancellation, they tend now to exchange views only behind closed doors.  He’d probably be today almost forgotten were it not for an incendiary broadcast he made (as Archbishop of Canterbury and thus spiritual head of the Church of England and the worldwide Anglican community) on BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) Radio on 13 December, 1936, two days after the abdication of Edward VIII (1894–1972; King of the UK & Emperor of India, January-December 1936, subsequently Duke of Windsor).  The address to the nation remains the most controversial public intervention made by a Church of England figure in the twentieth century, judged by many to be needlessly sanctimonious and distastefully personal, its political dimension the least objectionable aspect.

As a piece of text it did have a pleasingly medieval feel, opening with some memorable passages including: “From God he received a high and sacred trust. Yet by his own will he has abdicated” and “It is tragic that the sacred trust was not held with a firmer grip”.  That set the tone although when he said: “There has been much sympathy with the king in his great personal difficulty, and I do not forget how deeply he has touched the hearts of millions with his warm interest in the homes and lives of his people” his large audience may have thought some Christian charity did lurk in the Archbishop’s soul but quickly he let that moment pass, returning to his theme: “The causes which led to the king's decision are fully known to the nation.  But it has been made plain that the reigning sovereign of this country must be one whose private life and public conduct can be trusted to reflect the Christian ideal."

Unlike many modern Archbishops, there was no ambiguity about Lang so in his defense it can be argued he provided the Church with a moral clarity of greater certainty than anything which has in recent decades emanated from Lambeth Palace.  So there was that but by the 1930s the mood of opinion-makers in the UK had shifted and Lang’s text was seen as morally judgmental and the idea Edward VIII had failed not so much as a constitutional monarch but in his divine duty seemed archaic, few in the country framing things as the king’s personal failure before God.  What was clear was old Lang's point Edward’s relationship with a twice-divorced woman disqualified him morally and spiritually from being king which many critics within the church thought a bleak approach to a clergyman’s pastoral role.  In a sermon from the pulpit to the faithful it might have gone down well but as a national address, the tone was misplaced.  In self-imposed exile, privately Edward privately described the broadcast as “a vile and vindictive attack” and in his ghost-written memoirs (A King's Story (1951)), he accused the archbishop of “cruelty”.

Remembered also from the broadcast’s aftermath was a satirical verse printed in Punch by the novelist Gerald Bullett (1893–1958 (who published also under the pseudonym Sebastian Fox)).  Bullet’s included the words “how full of cant you are!”, using “cant” in the sense of “to speak in a manner speak in a hypocritical or insincere), an allusion to Lang signing his documents : “Cosmo Cantuar” (Cantuar the abbreviation for Cantuarium (Latin for Canterbury)):

“My Lord Archbishop, what a scold you are!
And when your man is down, how bold you are!
Of Christian charity how scant you are!
And, auld Lang swine, how full of cant you are!”