Decorum

Decorum (pronounced dih-kawr-uhm or dih-kohr-uhm)

(1) Dignified propriety of behavior, speech, dress, demeanour etc.

(2) The quality or state of being decorous, or exhibiting such dignified propriety; orderliness; regularity.

(3) The conventions of social behaviour; an observance or requirement of one’s social group (sometimes in the plural as “decorums” the use an allusion to the many rules of etiquette (the expectations or requirements defining “correct behaviour” which, although most associated with “polite society”, do vary between societal sub-sets, differing at the margins)).

1560–1570: A learned borrowing (in the sense of “that which is proper or fitting in a literary or artistic composition”) from the Latin decōrum, noun use of neuter of decōrus (proper, decent (ie decorous) from decor (beauty, elegance, charm, grace, ornament), probably from decus (an ornament; splendor, honor), the Proto-Italic dekos (dignity), from the primitive Indo-European déḱos (that which is proper), from deḱ- (take, perceive) (and used in the sense of “to accept” on the notion of “to add grace”).  By the 1580s the use of decorum has spread from its literary adoption from the Latin to the more generalized sense of “propriety of speech, behavior or dress; formal politeness”, a resurrection of the original sense in Latin (polite, correct in behaviour, that which is seemly).  Decorously (in a decorous manner) is an adverb, decorousness (the state or quality of being decorous; a behavior considered decorous) is a noun, indecorous (improper, immodest, or indecent) and undecorous (not decorous) are adjectives).  The adjective dedecorous (disgraceful; unbecoming) is extinct.  Decorum is a noun; the noun plural is decora or decorums.

Whether on rugby pitches, race tracks, in salons & drawing rooms or geo-politics, disagreements over matters of decorum have over millennia been the source of innumerable squabbles, schisms and slaughter but linguistically, the related adjective decorous (characterized by dignified propriety in conduct, manners, appearance, character, etc) has also not been trouble-free.  Decorous seems first to have appeared in the 1650s from the Latin decōrus and akin to both decēre (to be acceptable, be fitting) and docēre (to teach (in the sense of “to make fitting”) with the adjectival suffix –ōsus appended.  In Latin, the -ōsus suffix (full, full of) was a doublet of -ose in an unstressed position and was used to form adjectives from nouns, to denote possession or presence of a quality in any degree, commonly in abundance.  English picked this up from the Middle English -ous, from the Old French –ous & -eux, from the Latin -ōsus and it became productive.  In chemistry, it has a specific technical application, used in the nomenclature to name chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a lower oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix -ic.  For example sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃).  Decorous is an adjective, decorousness is a noun and decorously is an adverb.

In use there are two difficulties with decorous: (1) the negative forms and (2) how it should be pronounced, both issues with which mercifully few will be troubled (or even see what the fuss is about) but to a pedantic subset, much noted.  The negative forms are undecorous & indecorous (both of which rarely are hyphenated) but the meanings are differences in the meaning.  Undecorous means simply “not decorous” which can be bad enough but indecorous is used to convey “improper, immodest, or indecent” which truly can be damning in some circles so the two carefully should be applied.  There’s also the negative nondecorous but it seems never to have been a bother.  The problem is made worse by the adjective dedecorous (disgraceful; unbecoming) being extinct; it would have been a handy sort of intermediate state between the “un-” & “in-” forms and the comparative (more dedecorous) & superlative (most dedecorous) would have provided all the nuance needed.  The related forms are the nouns nondecorousness, indecorous & indecorous and the adverbs nondecorously, undecorously & undecorously.

The matter of the pronunciation of decorous is one for the pedants but there’s a lot of them about and like décor, the use is treated as a class-identifier, the correlation between pedantry and class-identifiers probably high; the two schools of thought are  dek-er-uhs & dih-kawr-uhs (the second syllable -kohr- more of a regionalism) and in 1926 when the stern Henry Fowler (1858–1933) published his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage, he in his prescriptive way insisted on the former.  By 1965, when the volume was revised by Sir Ernest Gowers (1880–1966), he noted the “pronunciation has not yet settled down”, adding that “decorum pulls one way and decorate the other”.  In his revised edition, Sir Ernest distinguished still between right & wrong (a position from which, regrettably, subsequent editors felt inclined to retreat) but had become more descriptive than his predecessor of how things were done rather than how they “ought to be” done and added while “most authorities” had come to prefer dih-kawr-uhs, that other arbiter, the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) had listed dek-er-uhs first and it thus “may win”.  By the 2020s, impressionistically, it would seem it has.

Décor is another where the pronunciation can be a class-identifier and in this case it extend to the spelling, something directly related.  In English, the noun décor dates from 1897 in the sense of “scenery and furnishings” and was from the eighteenth century French décor, a back-formation from the fourteenth century décorer (to decorate), from the Latin decorare (to decorate, adorn, embellish, beautify), the modern word thus duplicating the Latin decor.  The original use in English was of theatre stages and such but the term “home décor” was in use late in the 1890s to described the technique of hanging copies of old masters as home decoration.  From this evolved the general use (decorations and furnishings of a room, building etc), well established by the mid 1920s and it’s been with us ever since.  Typically sensibly, the French l'accent aigu (acute accent) (the “é” pronounced ay in French) was abandoned by the Americans without corroding society but elsewhere, décor remained preferred by among certain interior decorators and their clients, the companion French pronunciation obligatory too.

Courtoom decorum: Lindsay Lohan arriving at court, Los Angeles, 2011-2013.  All the world's a catwalk.

Top row; left to right: 9 Feb 2011; 23 Feb; 2011; 10 Mar 2011; 22 Apr 2011.
Centre row; left to right: 23 Jun 2011; 19 Oct 2011; 2 Nov 2011; 14 Dec 2011.
Bottom row; left to right: 17 Dec 2011; 30 Jan 2012; 22 Feb 2012; 28 Mar 2012.

In English, the original use of decorum was in the technical jargon of what word come to be called literary theory; decorum describing a structuralist adherence to formal convention.  It was applied especially to poetry where rules of construction abound and it was about consistency with the “canons of propriety” (in this context defined usually as “good taste, good manners & correctness” which in our age of cultural (and linguistic) relativism is something many would label as “problematic” but all are free to “plug-in” their own standards).  Less controversially perhaps, decorum was understood as the matter of behavior on the part of the poet qua ("in the capacity or character of; as being" and drawn from the Latin legal qua (acting in the capacity of, acting as, or in the manner of)) their poem and therefore what is proper and becoming in the relationship between form and substance.  That needs to be deconstructed: decorum was not about what the text described because the events variously could be thought most undecorous or indecorous but provided the author respected the character, thought and language appropriate to each, the literary demands of decorum were satisfied.  Just as one would use many different words to describe darkness compared to those used of sunlight, a work on a grand and profound theme should appear in a dignified and noble style while the trivial or humble might be earthier.

The tradition of decorum is noted as a theme in the works by the Classical authors from Antiquity but the problem there is that we have available only the extant texts and they would be but a fragment of everything created and it’s acknowledged there was much sifting and censoring undertaken in the Medieval period (notably by priests and monks who cut out “the dirty bits” and it’s not known how much was destroyed because it was thought “worthless” or worse “obscene”.  What has survived may be presumed to be something of the “best of” Antiquity and there’s no way of knowing if in Athens and Rome there were proto-post modernists who cared not a fig for literary decorum.  The Greek and Roman tradition certainly seems to have been influential however because decorum is obvious in Elizabethan plays.  In William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) Much Ado About Nothing (circa 1598), the comic passages such as the badinage between Beatrice and Benedick appear for amusing effect in colloquial dramatic prose while the set-piece romantic episodes are in formal verse; the very moment Benedick and Beatrice realize they are in love, that rise in the emotional temperature is signified by them suddenly switched to poetic verse.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December, 2011.

By contrast, in rhetoric, the conventions of literary decorum were probably most useful when being flouted.  Winston Churchill’s (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) World War II (1939-1945) speeches are remembered now for their eloquence and grandeur but there’s much evidence that at the time many listeners regarded their form as an anachronism and preferred something punchier but what made them effective was the way he could mix light & dark, high and low to lend his words a life which transcended the essential artificiality of a speech.  Once, when discussing serious matter of international relations and legal relationships between formerly belligerent powers, he paused to suggest that while Germany might be treated harshly after all that had happened, the Italians “…might be allowed to work their passage back.” [to the community of the civilized world].  What the flouting of decorum could do was make something worthy but dull seem at least briefly interesting or at least amusing, avoiding what the British judge Lord Birkett (1883–1962) would have called listening to “the ‘refayned’ and precious accents of a decaying pontiff.”

In English literature, it was during the seventeenth & eighteenth centuries that decorum became what might now be called a fetish, a product of the reverence for what were thought to be the “Classical rules and tenets” although quite how much these owned to a widespread observance in Antiquity and how much to the rather idealized picture of the epoch painted by medieval and Renaissance scholars really isn’t clear.  Certainly, in the understanding of what decorum was there were influences ancient & modern, Dr Johnson (Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)) observing that while terms like “cow-keeper” or “hog-herd” would be thought too much the vulgar talk of the peasantry to appear in “high poetry”, to the Ancient Greeks there were no finer words in the language.  Some though interpolated the vulgarity of the vernacular just because of the shock value the odd discordant word or phrase could have, the English poet Alexander Pope (1688-1744) clearly enjoying mixing elegance, wit and grace with the “almost brutal forcefulness” of the “the crude, the corrupt and the repulsive” and it’s worth noting he made his living also as a satirist.  His example must have appealed to the Romantic poets because they sought to escape the confines imposed by the doctrines of Neoclassicism, William Wordsworth (1770–1850) writing in the preface to Lyrical Ballads (1798 and co-written with Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)) that these poems were here to rebel against “false refinement” and “poetic diction”.  He may have had in mind the odd “decaying pontiff”.

Platform

Platform (pronounced plat-fawrm)

(1) A horizontal surface or structure raised above the surrounding area, used for appearances, performances etc (speeches, music, drama etc) and known also as a dais or podium if used for public speaking.

(2) A raised floor constructed for any purpose (an area for workers during construction, the mounting of weapons etc.

(3) The raised area (usually a constructed structure) between or alongside the tracks of a railroad station, designed to provide passenger or freight ingress & egress.

(4) The open entrance area, or vestibule, at the end of a railroad passenger car.

(5) A landing in a flight of stairs.

(6) A public statement of the principles, objectives, and policy (often referred to as “planks”, the metaphor being the timber planks used to build physical platforms) on the of a political party, especially as put forth by the representatives of the party in a convention to nominate candidates for an election; a body of principles on which a person or group takes a stand in appealing to the public; program; a set of principles; plan.

(7) Figuratively, a place or an opportunity to express one's opinion (historically also referred to as a tribune; a place for public discussion; a forum.

(8) Figuratively, something (a strategy, a campaign etc) which provides the basis on which some project or cause can advance (described also as a foundation or stage).

(9) A deck-like construction on which the drill rig of an offshore oil or gas well is erected.

(10) In naval architecture, a light deck, usually placed in a section of the hold or over the floor of the magazine (also used in to general nautical design).

(11) In structural engineering, a relatively flat member or construction for distributing weight, as a wall plate, grillage etc.

(12) In military jargon, solid ground on which artillery pieces are mounted or a metal stand or base attached to certain types of artillery pieces.

(13) In geology, a vast area of undisturbed sedimentary rocks which, together with a shield, constitutes a craton (often the product of wave erosion).

(14) In footwear design, a thick insert of leather, cork, or other sturdy material between the uppers and the sole of a shoe, usually intended for stylish effect or to give added height; technically an ellipsis of “platform shoe”, “platform boot” etc.

(15) In computing (as an ellipsis of “computing platform”, a certain combination of operating system or environment & hardware (with the software now usually functioning as a HAL (hardware abstraction layer) to permit the use of non-identical equipment); essentially a standardized system which allows software from a variety of vendors seamlessly to operate.

(16) In internet use (especially of social media and originally as an ellipsis of “digital platform”), software system used to provide online and often multi-pronged interactive services.

(17) In manufacturing, a standardised design which permits variations to be produced without structural change to the base.

(18) In automotive manufacturing (as an ellipsis of “car platform”, a set of components able to be shared by several models (and sometimes shared even between manufacturers).  The notion of the platform evolved from the literal platforms (chassis) used to build the horse-drawn carriages of the pre-modern era.

(19) A plan, sketch, model, pattern, plan of action or conceptual description (obsolete).

(20) In Myanmar (Burma), the footpath or sidewalk.

1540–1550: From the Middle English platte forme (used also as plateforme), from the Middle French plateforme (a flat form), the construct being plate (flat) from the Old French plat, from the Ancient Greek πλατύς (platús) (flat) + forme (form) from the Latin fōrma (shape; figure; form).  It was related to flatscape which survived into modern English as a rare literary & poetic device and which begat the derogatory blandscape (a bland-looking landscape), encouraging the derived “dullscape”, “beigescape”, “shitscape” etc.  Platform & platforming are nouns & verbs, platformer & platformization are nouns, platformed is a verb; the noun plural is platforms.  The noun & adjective platformative and the noun & adverb platformativity are non-standard.

In English, the original sense was “plan of action, scheme, design” which by the 1550s was used to mean “ground-plan, drawing, sketch”, these uses long extinct and replaced by “plan”.  The sense of a “raised, level surface or place” was in use during the 1550s, used particularly of a “raised frame or structure with a level surface”.  In geography, by the early nineteenth century a platform was a “flat, level piece of ground”, distinguished for a “plateau” which was associated exclusively with natural elevated formations; geologists by mid-century standardized their technical definition (a vast area of undisturbed sedimentary rocks which, together with a shield, constitutes a craton (often the product of wave erosion).  The use in railroad station design meaning a “raised area (usually a constructed structure) between or alongside the tracks of a railroad station, designed to provide passenger or freight ingress & egress” dates from 1832.

Donald Trump on the platform, Butler, Pennsylvania, 13 July 2024.

For politicians, the platform can be a dangerous place and the death toll of those killed while on the hustings is not inconsiderable.  Since the attempted assassination of Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021), he and his running mate in the 2024 presidential election (JD  James (b 1984; US senator (Republican-Ohio) since 2023) speak behind bullet-proof glass, the threat from homicidal "childless cat ladies" apparently considered "plausible".

The familiar modern use in politics was a creation of US English meaning a “statement of political principles policies which will be adopted or implemented were the candidates of the party to secure a majority at the upcoming election” and appeared first in 1803.  The use would have been derived from the literal platform (ie “on the hustings”) on which politicians stood to address crowds although some etymologists suggest it may have been influenced by late sixteenth century use in England to describe a “set of rules governing church doctrine" (1570s).  During the nineteenth century, platform came to be used generally as a figurative device alluding to “the function of public speaking” and even for a while flourished as a verb (“to address the public as a speaker”).

Lindsay Lohan in Saint Laurent Billy leopard-print platform boots (Saint Laurent part number 532469), New York, March 2019.

On the internet, "cancelling" or "cancel culture" refers to the social (media) phenomenon in which institutions or individuals (either “public figures” or those transformed into a public figures by virtue of an incautious (in the case of decades-old statements sometimes something at the time uncontroversial) tweet or post are called publicly “shamed”, criticized, or boycotted for a behaviour, statement or action deemed to be offensive (problematic often the preferred term) or harmful.  Cancelling is now quite a thing and part of the culture wars but the practice is not knew, the verb deplatform (often as de-platform) used in UK university campus politics as early as 1974 in the sense of “attempt to block the right of an individual to speak at an event (usually on campus)”; the comparative noun & verb being “deplatforming”.  The unfortunate noun & verb “platforming” began in railway use in the sense of (1) the construction of platforms and (2) the movement of passengers or freight on a platform but in the early 2010s it gained a new meaning among video gamers who used it to describe the activity of “jumping from one platform to another.”  Worse still is “platformization” which refers to (1) the increasing domination of the internet by a number of large companies whose products function as markets for content and (2) also in internet use, the conversion of a once diverse system into a self-contained platform.  Software described as “cross-platform” or “platform agnostic” is able to run on various hardware and software combinations.

IBM: In 1983 things were looking good.

In computing, the term “platform” was in use long before “social media platforms” became part of the vernacular.  The significance of “platform” was compatibility, the rationale being that software sold by literally thousands of vendors could be run on machines produced by different companies, sometimes with quite significantly different hardware (the “bus wars” used to be a thing).  The compatibility was achieved was by an operating system (OS) creating was called the HAL (hardware abstraction layer), meaning that by a variety of techniques (most notably “device drivers”)’ an operating system could make disparate hardware manifest as “functionally identical” to application level software.  So, in a sign of the times, the once vital concept of “IBM compatibility” came to be supplanted by “Windows compatibility” and the assertion by in 1984 by NEC when releasing the not “wholly” compatible APC-III that “IBM compatibility is just a state of mind” was the last in its ilk; the APC-III architecture proving a one-off.  The classic computing platform became the “WinTel” (sometimes as “Wintel”, a portmanteau word, the construct being Win(dows) + (In)tel), the combination of the Microsoft Windows OS and the Intel central processing unit (CPU), an evolution traceable to IBM’s decision in 1980 to produce their original PC-1 with an open architecture using Microsoft’s DOS (disk operation system) and Intel’s 8088 (8/16 bit) & 8086 (16 bit) CPUs rather than use in-house products.  In the IBM boardroom, that at the time would have seemed a good idea but it was one which within a decade almost doomed the corporation as the vast ecosystem of “clone” PCs enriched Microsoft & Intel while cannibalizing the corporate market which had built IBM into a huge multi-national.  It is the Wintel platform which for more than forty years has underpinned the digital revolution and, like the steam engine, transformed the world.

The noun & adjective platformative and the noun & adverb platformativity are non-standard.  Platformative was built on the model of “performative” which (1) in structural linguistics and philosophy is used to mean “being enacted as it is said” (ie follows the script) and (2) in post-modernist deconstructionist theory refers to something done as a “performance” for purposes of “spectacle or to create an impression”.  “Platformative is understood as some sort of event or situation which is (1) dependent on the platform on which it is performed or (2) something which exists to emphasise the platform rather than itself.  Platformativity was built on the model of performativity which as a noun (1) in philosophy referred to the capacity of language and expressive actions to perform a type of being and (2) the quality of being performative.  As an adverb, it described something done “in a performative manner”.  The actual use of platformativity seems often mysterious but usually the idea is the extent to which the meaning of a “statement or act” (ie the text) is gained or changed depending upon the platform on which it transpired (something of a gloss on the idea “The medium is the message” which appeared in Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man (1964) by Marshall McLuhan (1911-1980).

The automotive platform

In automobile mass-production, the term “platform” tended to be generic until the post-war years and was used (if at all) interchangeably with “chassis” or “frame”, the basic underling structure used to mount the mechanical components and add the bodywork.  The growing adoption of “unitary” construction during the mid-century years radically changed the way cars were manufactured but didn’t much change the language, the underpinnings still often referred to as the “chassis” even though engineers cheerfully would point out one no longer existed.  What did change the language was sudden proliferation of models offered by the US industry in the 1960s; where once, each line (apart from the odd speciality) had a single model, emerging in the 1960s would be ranges consisting of the (1) full-size, (2) intermediate, (3) compact and (4) sub-compact.  The strange foreign cars were often so small they were often described variously as “micros” & “sub-micros”.  With such different sizes now being built, different platforms were required and these came to be known usually with titles like “A Platform”, “C Platform”, “E Platform” etc (although “A Body”, “C Body” etc were also used interchangeably).  Such nomenclature had actually been in use in Detroit as early as the 1920s but there was little public perception of the use which rarely appeared outside engineering departments or corporate boardrooms.  The concept of the platform was in a sense “engineering agnostic” because the various platforms could be unitary, with a traditional separate chassis or one of a variety of BoF (body-on-frame) constructions (X-Frame, Perimeter-Frame, Ladder-Frame etc).  Regardless, in the language of internal designation, anything could be a “platform”.

With the coming of the 1960s, the “platform” concept became the standard industry language, quickly picked up the motoring press which observed the most notable aspect of the concept was that the design of platforms emphasised the ability to be adapted to a number of different models, often with little more structural adjustment than a (quick & cheap) stretch of the wheelbase or a slightly wider track, both things able to be accommodated on the existing production line without the need to re-tool.  The designers of platforms needed to be cognizant not only of the vehicles which would be mounted atop but also production line rationalization.  What this implies is that the more models which could be produced using the single platform, all else being equal, the more profitable that platform tended to be and some of the long-running platforms proved great cash cows.  However, if a platform (1) proved more expensive to produce than the industry average and (2) was used only on a single or limited number of lines, it could be what Elon Musk (b 1971) would now call a “money furnace”.  Such a fate befell Chrysler’s “E Platform” (usually called the “E Body”), produced between 1969-1974 for two close to identical companion lines.  Exacerbating the E Platforms woes was it being released (1) just before its market segment suffered a precipitous decline in sales, (2) government mandated rules began to make it less desirable, (3) rising insurance costs limited the appeal of the most profitable models and (4) the first oil shock of 1973-1974 drove a final nail into the coffin.

1960 Ford Falcon (US, left) and 1976 Ford PC LTD (Australia, right).  Both built on the "Falcon Platform", the 1960 original was on a 109½ inch (2781 mm) wheelbase and fitted with a 144 cubic inch (2.4 litre) straight-six.  By 1973, Ford Australia had stretched the platform to a 121 inch (3100 mm) wheelbase and fitted a 351 cubic inch (5.8 litre) (335 series "Cleveland") V8.      

Ford in North America introduced the Falcon in 1960 in response to the rising sales of smaller imports, a phenomenon the domestic industry had brought upon itself by making their own mainstream production bigger and heavier during the late 1950s and tellingly, when later they would introduce their “intermediate” ranges, these vehicles were about the size cars had been in 1955; they proved very popular although rising prosperity did mean sales of the full-size lines would remain buoyant until mugged by economic reality in a post oil-shock world.  The Falcon began modestly enough and while the early versions were very obviously built to a (low) price and intended to be a commodity to be disposed of when “used up”, it found a niche and Ford knew it was onto something.  The early platform wasn’t without its flaws, as Australian buyers would discover when they took their stylish new 1960 Falcon to the outback roads the frumpy but robust Holden handled without complaint, but it proved adaptable: In North America, the Falcon was produced between 1960-1969, it lasted from 1962-1991 in Argentina and in Australia, in a remarkable variety of forms, it was offered between 1960-2016.

On the Falcon platform: 1965 Mustang (6 cylinder, left) and 1969 Mustang Boss 429 (right).  In the vibrant market for early Mustangs, although it's the high-performance versions and Shelby American's derivatives which attract the collectors, massively out-selling such things were the so-called "grocery-getters", configured typically with small (in US terms) 6 cylinder engines and automatic transmissions.  The "grocery-getters" used to be known as "secretary's" or "librarian's" cars but such sexist stereotyping would now attract cancellation (once known as "de-platforming).

In North America however, the platform wasn’t retired when the last of the Falcons was sold in 1970 because it was used also for other larger Fords (and companion Mercury & even (somewhat improbably) Lincoln models) including the Fairlane (1962-1970), Maverick (1970–1977) & Granada 1975-1980.  Most famously of course, it was the Falcon platform which was the basis for the first generation Mustang (1964-1973); if the development costs for the Falcon hadn’t been amortized by the time the Mustang was released, the extraordinary popularity of the new “pony car” meant the profits were huge.  It’s of course misleading to suggest a machine like the 1969 Mustang Boss 429 (7.0 litre) was “underneath the body just a Falcon with a big engine” but the basic design is the same and between the early versions of the two, there are many interchangeable parts.  Later, Ford would maintain other long-lasting platforms.  The Fox platform would run between 1979-1993 (the SN95 platform (1994-2004) is sometimes called the “Fox/SN95” because it was “a Fox update" but it was so substantial most engineers list it separately) and the larger Panther platform enjoyed an even more impressive longevity; released in 1979, the final Panther wasn’t produced until 2012.

Camisole

Camisole (pronounced kam-uh-sohl)

(1) A short garment worn underneath a sheer bodice to conceal the underwear; also called cami (pronounced kam-ee).

(2) A woman's dressing jacket or short negligée.

(3) A sleeved jacket or jersey once worn by men (now obsolete but occasionally revived as a catwalk novelty).

(4) As camisole de force, a straitjacket with long sleeves (mostly historic references).

1816: From the French and the Old Occitan (also called Old Provençal) camisola, the construct being camis(a) + -ola; the Late Latin camīsa (shirt) was also the source of chemise and the Latin suffix -ola was added to a noun to form a (sometimes pejorative) diminutive of that noun; a variant was the Late Latin camisia (shirt or nightgown).  The thread was well-known in romance languages, the Old Portuguese camisa (shirt) was from the Late Latin camisia (shirt), from Transalpine Gaulish (of Germanic origin) from the Proto-Germanic hamiþiją (clothes, shirt, skirt), from the primitive Indo-European ḱam- (cover, clothes).  The modern use meaning a “sleeveless undergarment for women” dates from circa 1900 but for most of the late nineteen the century it generally meant "straitjacket” (a restraint for lunatics). Camisole is a noun & verb and camisoled is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is camisoles.

Camisole de force: The straitjacket

Crooked Hillary Clinton in Camisole de force (digitally altered photo).

Although ad-hoc wearable physical restraints had existed long before, the camisole de force (straitjacket) was invented circa 1772 by Irish doctor David MacBride (1726-1778), the more romantic story of it being a creation of a Monsieur Guilleret, a tapestry maker at Bicêtre Hospital, apparently a myth.  The basic concept endures to this day although they are now less used, having largely been supplanted by camisoles chimiques (or neuroleptics (a class of psychotropic drugs used to treat psychosis)).  The only fundamental change in design is that modern camisoles de force are made with sleeves, the early types restraining the arms directly under the fabric were found to be most uncomfortable.

Camisole de force on the catwalk: Straitjacket chic by Gucci and others.

Catwalks were once a place where fashion existed for fashion's sake and while there could be social or political implications in what was worn, the messaging usually had to be some sort of overt threat to the establishment for much of a protest to be raised.  However, we live now in more sensitive times and designers have to be aware of factors as diverse as religion, ethnicity, skin color, sexual orientation, age, body mass index (BMI) and the seemingly all-encompassing "cultural appropriation".  Gucci recently had to withdraw from sale a jumper (US$890, Stg£715) after critics found it too reminiscent of blackface minstrels, the connection being the built-in half-balaclava with knitted plump red lips.  That fixed, the fashion house was then accused of cultural appropriation because one of their headpieces (US$790, Stg£635) too closely resembled a Sikh turban.   To clarify the extent of the sin, the US-based Sikh Coalition issued a statement: "The Sikh turban is not just a fashion accessory, but it's also a sacred religious article of faith."

Madness (an now unfashionable word banned in polite company; the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) recommending "mental disorder" or "psychiatric disorder") may also be on fashion's banned list after Ayesha Tan-Jones (b 1993, who is non-binary and uses they/them pronouns) staged a non-oral, verbal protest while on the catwalk (they might prefer the less exploitative "runway") in the Gucci show at Milan Fashion Week 2019.  Tan-Jones and other models were dressed in white jumpsuits for the show (and it can't be long before even the use of white is declared "problematic"), some of which used the motif of the straitjacket.  On their hands, Tan-Jones had written the words "Mental health is not fashion", clearly not accepting Gucci's rationale the designs were meant to represent "how through fashion, power is exercised over life, to eliminate self-expression".  That has some linguistic tradition because women have in the past not infrequently described demands to be fashionable as "a straitjacket" but Tan-Jones presumably would prefer the notion remain a simile rather than a publicity stunt.

Ayesha Tan-Jones on the catwalk, Milan Fashion Week, September 2019. 

After the show, Tan-Jones issued their own statement, writing "Straitjackets are a symbol of a cruel time in medicine when mental illness was not understood, and people's rights and liberties were taken away from them, while they were abused and tortured in the institution.  It is in bad taste for Gucci to use the imagery of straitjackets and outfits alluding to mental patients, while being rolled out on a conveyor belt as if a piece of factory meat."  That was followed up with another post which added they, along with some of the other models in the show, were donating to mental health charities a portion (% not mentioned) of the modeling fees paid by Gucci.  "Many of the other Gucci models who were in the show felt just as strongly as I did about this depiction of straitjackets, and without their support I would not have had the courage to walk out and peacefully protest" they said.  In response, the fashion house didn't address the substantive issued raised but did confirm straitjacket chic was just "...a statement for the fashion show and will not be sold", adding the line was intended as "...an antidote to the colourful designs in the rest of the Spring/Summer 2020 show".

Lindsay Lohan in camisole.

Odalisque

Odalisque (pronounced ohd-l-isk)

(1) A female slave or concubine in a harem, especially one attached to the Ottoman seraglio.

(2) Any of a number of representations of such a woman or of a similar subject, as by Ingres, Matisse et al (initial capital letter).

(3) In informal use, (1) a desirable or sexually attractive woman and (2) in painting, a reclining female figure in some state of undress (contested).

1680s: From the 1660s French odalique (the intrusive -s- perhaps from -esque), from the Ottoman Turkish اوطه‌لق‎ (ōdalik) (maid-servant (sometimes translated as concubine)), the construct being اوده‎ (oda or ōdah) (room in a harem (literally “chamber, hall”) + lιk (the noun suffix of appurtenance).  In French, the suffix was sometimes confused with Greek -isk(os) (of the nature of, belonging to), hence the alternative spelling odalisk where was still circulating well into the twentieth century.  The spread of the Ottoman Empire from Asia to Europe meant useful or intriguing words from Ottoman Turkish entered other languages.  Some use the French or English forms but other variations included the Catalan odalisca, the Dutch odalisk, the German Odaliske, the Hungarian odaliszk, the Icelandic ódalíska, the Italian odalisca, the Portuguese odalisca, the Russian одали́ска (odalíska), the Serbo-Croatian одалиска (odaliska) and the Spanish odalisca.  Odalisque is a noun; the noun plural is odalisques)

An odalisque and the quality of odalisque: Odalisque à la culotte rouge (Odalisque in red trousers) (1921), oil on canvas by Henri Matisse (1869-1954), Musée de l'Orangerie, Paris, France (left) and Lindsay Lohan (2008) in the same vein (right).

Matisse was one of many painters drawn to the exoticism of the orient and painted a series of “Odalisque works”.  There was a time when what white male artists did defined what was art but in recent decades, the depictions by Western artists of aspects of culture east and south of Suez have become controversial, the popular word “problematic” often heard.  Even as historical artefacts, it’s difficult now not to be aware of the complicated legacy such imagery evokes, the Western construct of “Orientalism”, although born of a time when such places were far removed from the industrial society of the post-Enlightenment West, jarring when considered using the twenty-first century standards of representing race and gender.  The objectification by white male artists of women (oriental or not), of course had a long history but it adds another layer when those depicted are the prisoners of a harem, a commodity maintained at the pleasure of a man and discarded at whim.  Did Matisee and the others reveal their colonial attitudes by focusing only on the female body as something which existed aesthetically to please men while ignoring the inherent violence beneath the surface?  There have always been those who argue the artist has the right not to be troubled by (or even know about) such things and the l'art pour l'art (art for art's sake) school will always have a following but the recent deconstructions of patriarchal and colonial structures of power do mean that while such works can still be enjoyed, to admit such an indulgence is becoming harder to sustain.

Odalisque au pantalon rouge (Odalisque in Red Pants) (circa 1925), oil on canvas by Henri Matisse, Fundación Museos Nacionales, Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de Caracas, Caracas, Venezuela.  The real one is on the left, the forgery on the right.

As commodity however, Matisses remain desirable.  Sometime between 1999-2002, his Odalisque au pantalon rouge (Odalisque in Red Pants) was stolen from the Venezuelan national gallery in Carracus and replaced with a forgery.  The crime remained un-noticed until 2003 and the work was recovered some fourteen years later, the circumstances of the disappearance remaining as murky as Venezuela’s politics but the scandal did attract much attention especially given it was the only Matisse hung in any of the nation’s museums and the only of his Odalisques on display anywhere in Latin America.  After being recovered in 2012 in Miami by the US Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), the real and the fake were (side-by-side) exhibited as a kind of installation, accompanied by collateral displays which documented the technical differences between the two, the security protocols by which cultural institutions determined patrimony and the systems maintained to monitor any theft of patrimony, according to the regulations of each country and those of the International Council of Museums (ICOM).

US and Mexican nationals were convicted on charges of attempting to sell the stolen Odalisque but most Venezuelans appeared to draw the weary conclusion that official corruption was involved.  It was only when in 2002 the museum received a message telling them the painting was being offered for sale that a check was made and it was found the one on the gallery’s walls not just a fake but a poorly executed one.  Nevertheless, it had hung there for at least two years, an embarrassing photograph from 2000 emerging which showed then President Hugo Chávez (1954–2013; Venezuelan president 1999-2013 (except during a few local difficulties in 2002)) standing in the museum with the fake Matisse behind him.  An investigation began but, as often happens in Venezuela, it proved inconclusive although it did reveal word of the painting being on the market had been received as early as 2000 but the matter, for whatever reason, wasn’t pursued.  When the FBI made their arrests, the suspects told them the painting had been stolen and replaced by museum employees, something which elicited little surprise in Carracus and nor was anyone much shocked when an audit revealed several other pieces were missing, none of which have been recovered.  Under Chavez, Western art was not regarded as anything of importance and, given the country’s problems in the years since, it’s likely that if ever another audit is performed, a few more things might be found to be missing.

An odalisque and the quality of odalisque: Odalisque (circa 1880), oil on canvas by Jean-Joseph Benjamin-Constant (1845–1902)  Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City (left) and Lindsay Lohan in the same vein, Vanity Fair photo-shoot, 2010 (right).

Hecatomb

Hecatomb (pronounced hek-uh-tohm or hek-uh-toom)

(1) In ancient Greece and Rome, any great public sacrifice and feast, originally a public sacrifice to the gods of 100 oxen.

(2) In Medieval use, by extension, any great sacrifice; a great number of people, animals or things, especially as sacrificed or destroyed; a large amount.

(3) In modern use (loosely), any great slaughter.

1585–1595:  From the Latin hecatombē, from the Ancient Greek ἑκατόμβη (hekatómbē) (originally (and literally) “an offering of 100 oxen” and later “any great sacrifice”), from hekatombwā, the construct derived from the idea of ἑκατόν (hekatón) (one hundred) + -bwā, (a form which etymologists have always found curious an assumed to be a derivative of βοῦς (boûs) (ox), from the primitive Indo-European root gwou- (ox, bull, cow).  The origin of hékaton is also a mystery but the construct may be from hem-katon, with hen (a neuter of heis or eis (one)) + katon (hundred).  The first month of the Attic calendar (July-August) was Hekatombaion, the annual season of sacrifice.    Hecatomb is a noun; the noun plural is plural hecatombs.

Hecatomb remains rare and obscure except in historic use but can, in the correct context, be used as a linguistic flourish as an alternative to warfare, havoc, killing, slaughter, crime, butchery, bloodshed, homicide, murder, liquidation, rapine, blood, blitz, holocaust, extermination, annihilation, shambles etc but should not replace the specific forms genocide or the holocaust; opinion is divided on whether it’s a suitable substitute for events pre-dating World War II which were historically described as holocausts.  Holocaust was from the Middle English holocaust (burnt offering), from the Anglo-Norman holocauste, the Old French holocauste & olocauste (which exists in modern French as holocaust), from the Late Latin holocaustum, from the Ancient Greek ὁλόκαυστον (holókauston), the neuter form of ὁλόκαυστος (holókaustos) (wholly burnt), the construct being ὅλος (hólos) (entire, whole (ultimately from the primitive Indo-European solh- (whole)) + καυστός (kaustós) (burnt), from καίω (kaíō) (to burn, burn up), the source of which is uncertain although there may be some link with the primitive Indo-European kehw-.  The verb is derived from the noun

The word holocaust is regarded by some as problematic (in the modern way that word is now used).  Holocaust has since at least the 1960s been established as the descriptor of the industrialized mass murder of Jews by the Nazis, the decision to exterminate the Jews of Europe taken in 1941 and formalized in 1942.  Some Jewish scholars however criticize the use of the word because of the historical associations with voluntary sacrifices to God and don’t wish any to draw the inference there was any voluntary religious purpose in the Nazi crime, either from the perspective either of the perpetrators or the victims.  Their preferred term is Shoah, (from the Hebrew שׁוֹאָה‎ (catastrophe).  Other Jewish scholars note the technical point but argue the use of Holocaust (capitalized) uniquely as a descriptor for the events of 1942-1945 is didactically helpful in a way a wider adoption of Shoah would not serve.

The Pentelic marble sculpture of the procession of sacrificial bulls during Hekatombaion, from the Parthenon frieze.

According to a legend which appears in more than one source, when the Greek philosopher Pythagoras discovered what came to be called the Pythagorean theorem (the one about famous right-triangles), he celebrated by sacrificing a hecatomb (100 head) of oxen to the gods.  Lewis Carroll (Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, 1832–1898) is remembered now mostly for Alice’s many adventures but he was also a prolific author of works in mathematics, a discipline in which he took a first at Oxford.  In A New Theory of Parallels (1895), he wrote his whimsical take on the legend of the Pythagoras’s sacrifice.  As an anecdote it probably wouldn’t get many laughs in a any of today’s stand-up comedy clubs but it’s a nice relic of gentlemanly Victorian humor by one who was once an Oxford under-graduate and never quite recovered:

But neither thirty years, nor thirty centuries, affect the clearness, or the charm, of Geometrical truths.  Such a theorem as “the square of the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle is equal to the sum of the squares of the sides” is as dazzlingly beautiful now as it was in the day when Pythagoras first discovered it, and celebrated its advent, it is said, by sacrificing a hecatomb of oxen — a method of doing honor to Science that has always seemed to me slightly exaggerated and uncalled-for.  One can imagine oneself, even in these degenerate days, marking the epoch of some brilliant scientific discovery by inviting a convivial friend or two, to join one in a beefsteak and a bottle of wine.  But a hecatomb of oxen!  It would produce a quite inconvenient supply of beef.

That in the German vernacular someone thought a dunce is called “an ox” allowed the penning of some Teutonic whimsy, the satirist Karl Ludwig Börne (1786–1837) observing: “After Pythagoras discovered his fundamental theorem he sacrificed a hecatomb of oxen. Since that time all dunces tremble whenever a new truth is discovered.”  The botanist and romantic poet Adelbert von Chamisso (1781–1838) also liked the pun which he used in a short verse:

Truth lasts throughout eternity,

When once the stupid world its light discerns:

The theorem, coupled with Pythagoras’ name,

Holds true today, as’t did in olden times.

A splendid sacrifice Pythagoras brought

The gods, who blessed him with this ray divine;

A great burnt offering of a hundred kine,

Proclaimed afar the sage’s gratitude.

Now since that day, all cattle [blockheads] when they scent

New truth about to see the light of day,

In frightful bellowing manifest their dismay;

Pythagoras fills them all with terror;

And powerless to shut out light by error,

In sheer despair, they shut their eyes and tremble.

Vogue

Vogue (pronounced vohg)

(1) Something in fashion at a particular time or in a particular place.

(2) An expression of popular currency, acceptance, or favor.

(3) A highly stylized modern dance that evolved out of the Harlem ballroom scene in the 1960s, the name influenced by the fashion magazine; one who practiced the dance was a voguer who was voguing.

(4) In Polari, a cigarette or to light a cigarette (often in the expression “vogue me up”).

1565–1575: From the Middle English vogue (height of popularity or accepted fashion), from the Middle French vogue (fashion, success (literally, “wave or course of success”)), from the Old French vogue (a rowing), from voguer (to row, sway, set sail), from the Old Saxon wegan (to move) & wogōn (to sway, rock), a variant of wagōn (to float, fluctuate), from the Proto-Germanic wagōną (to sway, fluctuate) and the Proto-Germanic wēgaz (water in motion), wagōną (to sway, fluctuate), wēgaz (water in motion) & weganą (to move, carry, weigh), from the primitive Indo-European weǵh- (to move, go, transport (and an influence on the English way).  The forms were akin to the Old Saxon wegan (to move), the Old High German wegan (to move), the Old English wegan (to move, carry, weigh), the Old Norse vaga (to sway, fluctuate), the Old English wagian (to sway, totter), the Proto-West Germanic wagōn, the German Woge (wave) and the Swedish våg.  A parallel development the Germanic forms was the Spanish boga (rowing) and the Old Italian voga (a rowing), from vogare (to row, sail), of unknown origin and the Italianate forms were probably some influence on the development of the verb.  Vogue & voguer are nouns (voguette an informal noun), voguing is a noun and adjective, vogued is a verb and vogueing & voguish are adjectives; the noun plural is vogues.

All etymologists seem to concur the modern meaning is from the notion of being "borne along on the waves of fashion" and colloquially the generalized sense of "fashion, reputation" is probably from the same Germanic source.  The phrase “in vogue” (having a prominent place in popular fashion) was recorded as long ago as 1643.  The fashion magazine (now owned by Condé Nast) began publication in 1892 and the young devotees of its advice are voguettes.  In linguistics, vogue words are those words & phrases which become suddenly (although not always neologisms) popular and fade from use or becoming clichéd or hackneyed forms (wardrobe malfunction; awesome; problematic; at this point in time; acid test; in this space; parameters; paradigm et al).  Because it’s so nuanced, vogue has no universal synonym but words which tend to the same meaning (and can in some circumstances be synonymous) include latest, mod, now, rage, chic, craze, currency, custom, fad, favor, mode, popularity, practice, prevalence, style, stylishness, thing, trend & usage.

Lindsay Lohan cover, Vogue (Spanish edition), August 2009.

In Cornwall, the hamlet of Vogue in the parish of St Day gained its name from the Medieval Cornish vogue word for a medieval smelting furnace (blowing house); producing much smoke, vogue was also a word used to mean “fog or mist”.  Clearly better acquainted with law than geography, in early 2022 counsel for Condé Nast sent a cease and desist letter to the inn-keeper of the village’s The Star Inn at Vogue pub, demanding the place change its name to avoid any public perception of a connection between the two businesses.  The pub’s owners declined the request and Condé Nast subsequently apologized, citing insufficient investigation by their staff.

1981 Range Rover In Vogue from the first run with the standard stylized steel wheels (left) and a later 1981 In Vogue with the three-spoke aluminum units.

Much of the 1970s was spent in what to many felt like a recession, even if there were only some periods in some places during which the technical definition was fulfilled and the novel phenomenon of stagflation did disguise some of the effects.  Less affected than most (of course) were the rich who had discovered a new status-symbol, the Range Rover which, introduced in 1970 had essentially created the luxury four-wheel-drive (4WD) segment although the interior of the original was very basic, the car’s reputation based on the excellence of the engineering.  So good was the Range Rover, both on and off-road that owners, used to being cosseted in leather and walnut, wanted something closer to that to which they were accustomed and dealers received enquiries about an up-market version.

Lindsay Lohan at the opening of the Ninety years of Vogue covers exhibition, Crillon Hotel, Paris, 2009.

That had been Rover’s original intention.  The plan had been to release a basic version powered by four cylinder engines and a luxury edition with a V8 but by 1970 time and development funds had run out so the car was released with the V8 power-train and an interior so utilitarian it could be hosed out, something which was touted as a competitive advantage although it’s doubtful it was a feature many owners chose to exploit.  However, if the rich were riding out the decade well, British Leyland (which owned Rover) was not and it lacked the resources to devote to the project.  Others took advantage of what proved a profitable niche and the rich could choose from a variety of limited-production and bespoke offerings including long-wheelbase models, four-door conversions, six wheelers and even open-topped versions from a variety of coach-builders such as Wood & Pickett and low-volume manufacturers like Switzerland’s Monteverdi which anticipated the factory by a number of years with their four-door coachwork.

Rendez-vous à Biarritz, Vogue magazine, March 1981.

However, British Leyland was soon subject to one of the many re-organizations which would seek (without success) to make it a healthy corporation and one consequence was increased autonomy for the division making Range Rovers.  No longer forced to subsidize less profitable arms of the business, attention was turned to the matter of a luxury model, demand for which clearly existed.  To test market reaction, in late 1980, the factory collaborated with Wood & Pickett to design a specially-equipped two-door model as a proof-of-concept exercise to gauge market reaction.  The prototype (HAC 414W) was lent to Vogue magazine, a crafty choice given the demographic profile of the readership and the by then well-known extent of women’s own purchasing power and influence on that of their husbands.  Vogue took the prototype to Biarritz to be the photographic backdrop for the images taken for the magazine’s co-promotion of the 1981 Lancôme and Jaeger fashion collections, published in an eight-page advertising spread entitled Rendez-vous à Biarritz in the March 1981 edition.  The response was remarkable and while Lancôme and Jaeger’s launch attracted polite attention, Vogue’s mailbox (which then was letters in envelopes with postage stamps) was overwhelmingly filled with enquiries about the blinged-up Range-Rover.

Vogue's Range Rover In Vogue (HAC 414W) in Biarritz, 1981, all nuts on board or otherwise attached.

Rover had expected demand to be strong and the reaction to the Vogue spread justified their decision to prepare for a production run even before publication and the Range Rover In Vogue went on sale early in 1981, the limited-edition run all replicas of the photo shoot car except for the special aluminum wheels.  The three-spoke wheels (based on the design Ford had used on the 1979 (Fox) Mustang) had actually proved a problem in Biarritz, the factory supplying the wrong lug nuts which had a tendency to fall off, meaning the staff travelling with the car had to check prior to each shoot to ensure five were present on each wheel which would appear in the picture.  Not until later in the year would the wheels be ready so the In Vogue’s went to market with the standard stylized steel units, meaning the brochures had to be pulped and reprinted with new photographs.  Quite how many were made remains unclear.  The factory said 1000 would be built, all in right hand drive (RHD) but many left hand drive (LHD) examples seem to exist and it’s thought demand from the continent was such that another batch was built although this has never been confirmed.  The In Vogue’s exclusive features were:

Light blue metallic (the model-exclusive Vogue Blue) paint with twin broad coach-lines in two-tone grey
High-compression (9.35:1) V8 engine
Transfer box with taller (0.996:1) high ratio
Air conditioning
Polished-wood door cappings
Stowage box between front seats
Map pockets on back of front seats
Fully carpeted load area
Carpeted spare wheel cover and tool kit curtain
Custom picnic hamper mounted in rear load-space
Stainless steel tailgate capping
Black centre caps for the wheels

Condé Nast would later describe the In Vogue’s custom picnic hamper as the car’s piece de resistance.  Demand for the In Vogue far exceeded supply and production runs of various volumes followed before the Vogue in 1984 became the regular production top-of-the-range model for many years (although when sold in the US it was called the Country).  For both companies, the In Vogue (and the subsequent Vogues) turned out to be the perfect symbiosis.

Vogue, January 1925, cover art by Georges Lepape.

From the start, Vogue was of course about frocks, shoes and such but its influence extended over the years to fields as diverse as interior decorating and industrial design.  The work of Georges Lepape (1887-1971) has long been strangely neglected in the history of art deco but he was a fine practitioner whose reputation probably suffered because his compositions have always been regarded as derivative or imitative which seems unfair given there are many who are more highly regarded despite being hardly original.  His cover art for Vogue’s edition of 1 January 1925 juxtaposed one of French artist Sonia Delaunay’s (1885–1979) "simultaneous" pattern dresses and a Voisin roadster decorated with an art deco motif.

One collector in 2015 was so taken with Pepape’s image that when refurbishing his 1927 Voisin C14 Lumineuse (literally “light”, an allusion to the Voisin’s greenhouse-inspired design which allowed natural light to fill the interior), he commissioned Dutch artist Bernadette Ramaekers to hand-paint a geometric triangular pattern in sympathy with that on the Vogue cover in 1925.  Ms Ramaekers toook six months to complete the project and the car is now being offered at auction.

Voisin's extraordinary visions:  1934 C27 Aérosport (left), 1934-1935 Voisin C25 Aérodynes (centre) & 1931 C20 Mylord Demi Berline (right).

There are few designers as deserving of such a tribute as French aviation pioneer Gabriel Voisin (1880–1973) who made military aircraft during the First World War (1914-1918) and, under the name Avions Voisin, produced a remarkable range of automobiles between 1919-1939, encapsulating thus the whole inter-war period and much of the art deco era.  Because his designs were visually so captivating, much attention has always been devoted to his lines, curves and shapes but the underlying engineering was also interesting although some of his signature touches, like the (briefly in vogue) sleeve valve engine, proved a mirage.  Also a cul-de-sac was his straight-12 engine.  Slow-running straight-12 (there is even a straight-14 which displaces 25,340 litres (1,546,000 cubic inches) and produces 107,290 hp (80,080 kW)) engines are actually not uncommon at sea where they’re used in big container ships but on the road (apart from some slow-running engines in military vehicles), only Voisin and Packard ever attempted them, the former making two, the latter, one.  Voisin’s concept was simple enough; it was two straight-6s joined together, end-on-end, the same idea many had used to make things like V12s (2 x V6s) straight-8s (2 x straight-4s) and even V24s (2 x V12s) but the sheer length of a straight-12 in a car presented unique problems in packaging and the management of the torsional vibrations induced by the elongated crankshaft.

1934 Voisin C15 Saloit Roadster.

The length of the straight-12 meant an extraordinary amount of the vehicle’s length had to be devoted to housing just the engine and that resulted in a high number for what designers call the dash-to-axle ratio.  That was one of the many reasons the straight-12 never came into vogue and indeed was one of the factors which doomed the straight-8, a configuration which at least had some redeeming features.  Voisin must however have liked the appearance of the long hood (bonnet) because the striking C15 Saloit Roadster (which could have accommodated a straight-12) was powered by a straight-4, a sleeve valve Knight of 2500 cm³ (153 cubic inch).  The performance doubtlessly didn’t live up to the looks but so sensuous were those looks that many would forgive the lethargy.

Using one of his trademark outdoor settings, Norman Parkinson (1913-1990) photographed model Suzanne Kinnear (b 1935) adorning a Daimler SP250, wearing a Kashmoor coat and Otto Lucas beret with jewels by Cartier.  The image was published on the cover of Vogue's UK edition in November 1959.

The Daimler SP250 was first shown to the public at the 1959 New York Motor Show and there the problems began.  Aware the little sports car was quite a departure from the luxurious but rather staid line-up Daimler had for years offered, the company had chosen the pleasingly alliterative “Dart” as its name, hoping it would convey the sense of something agile and fast.  Unfortunately, Chrysler’s lawyers were faster still, objecting that they had already registered Dart as the name for a full-sized Dodge so Daimler needed a new name and quickly; the big Dodge would never be confused with the little Daimler but the lawyers insisted.

Imagination apparently exhausted, Daimler’s management reverted to the engineering project name and thus the car became the SP250 which was innocuous enough even for Chrysler's attorneys and it could have been worse.  Dodge had submitted their Dart proposal to Chrysler for approval and while the car found favor, the name did not and the marketing department was told to conduct research and come up with something the public would like.  From this the marketing types gleaned that “Dodge Zipp” would be popular and to be fair, dart and zip(p) do imply much the same thing but ultimately the original was preferred and Darts remained in Dodge’s lineup until 1976, for most of that time one of the corporation's best-selling and most profitable lines.  The name was revived between 2012-2016 for an unsuccessful and unlamented compact sedan.