Jail

Jail (pronounced jeyl)

(1) A prison (in some places used generally of institutions of incarceration, in others tending to be applied to structures used for the detention of those awaiting trial or convicted of minor offenses).

(2) To take into or hold in lawful custody; to imprison; to incarcerate.

(3) In horse racing, the condition created by the requirement that a horse claimed in a claiming race not be run at another track for some period of time (usually 30 days).

(4) In dodgeball (and related games), the area where players who have been struck by the ball are confined.

(5) In computing, as used by certain variants of Linux, an implementation of a sandbox in which can be run an instance of another OS (operating system).

1225–1275: From the Middle English gayole, gaylle, gaille, gayle, gaile, gaiole, jaiole & jaile, from the Old North French gaiole, gayolle & gaole and the Old French jaiole (cage), from the Medieval Latin gabiola, from the Vulgar Latin gaviola, a variant of the Late Latin caveola (small cage, cell), diminutive of the Classical Latin cavea (cavity, coop, cage).  Regionalism in language was one more common (especially in eras when population movement (particularly in rural areas)) was more limited and the two spellings in the Old French variants reflect the independent linguistic evolutions, the spelling “gaole” indicative of a pronunciation in use until the seventeenth century.  It fully displaced the native Middle English quartern (prison, jail, cell), from the Old English cweartern (jail, prison) and partially displaced the native Middle English lok, from the Old English loc (enclosure, pen; jail, prison) (from which English gained “lock”) and the Middle English carcern, from the Old English carcern, from the Latin carcer (prison, jail).  In the Old English, there were many words meaning jail (regionalism also a factor here) including heaþor & heolstorloca (the latter meaning also “jail cell”), clūstorloc, dung (the latter meaning also also “dungeon”), hlinræced, nirwþ, nīedcleofa, hearmloca and nearu.  Jail & jailing are nouns & verbs; enjail, rejail, jailor (or jailer) & jailoress (or jaileress) are nouns, jailed & enjailed are verbs, jailless, jailish, jailable, nonjailable & jaillike are adjectives; the noun plural is jails.

In English, there are seeming anomalies which must baffle those learning the tongue and make them wonder how such a messy and sometimes inconsistent language became something of the world’s lingua franca.  Were it possible to have a committee edit the lexicon and eliminate the pointlessly troublesome, not only might something be done about homophones like “razed” (demolished) and “raised” (built) but the “gaol” (still used in parts of the English-speaking world to mean “jail”) would be retired and “jail” would become universal.  Jail as a noun dates from the thirteenth century and the persistence of “gaol” as the preferred form in the UK is attributed to the continued use in statutes and other official documents although there may also have been some reluctance to adopt “jail” because this had come to be regarded as an Americanism.

Some idiomatic and slang uses

Things to find on the web.

A “jailbreak” literally is “an escape from jail” but it was adopted in the ecosystem created by the computer industry to refer to modification to the hardware or firmware of an electronic device (mobile phones, tablets, gaming consoles etc) to allow the installation and use of software not officially supported or explicitly excluded by the manufacturer.  With the coming of AI (artificial intelligence) LLMs (large language models), jailbreak also became the term for a prompt which in some way bypasses any ethical restrictions imposed by the vendor.  In ice hockey, the jailbreak is a rule applied in some leagues under which a penalty is ended if the short-handed team scores; the goal scored in such circumstances is a jailbreak.  Any prisoner who emerges from jail (whether by a jailbreak or by more regular means) is said to be a “jailbird” and there are more than a dozen formal & informal terms for “jail” including slammer, hoosegow, jailhouse, big house, Uncle Sam’s hotel etc.

2022 Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat Redeye Widebody Jailbreak in Go Mango with satin black accents over black Laguna leather and Alcantara upholstery.  Because of the design of the front splitter, this model was supplied ex-factory with the one-piece yellow "underwire". 

Unexpectedly, during the 2010s, "underwire" entered the lexicon of automotive slang when it was used to describe a plastic part fitted temporarily as a protective piece.  The yellow plastic fitting (pictured above on the leading edge of the Challenger's splitter) was called a "splitter guard" which was unimaginative but the factory didn't envisage them as consumer items and the term was merely explanatory for the information of those preparing cars for sale.  Installed to prevent damage during shipping, it was part of dealer preparation instructions to remove the pieces but leaving them attached became a cult and some cars were even retro-fitted.  An element in that was the "end of an era" vibe and large number of the vehicles in Dodge's "Last Call" runs (of which there were many) were purchased as investments to be stored away for the day when V8s are no longer produced and collectors will be anxious to pay much for the way things used to be done.  How well that will work out remains to be seen but with the "Last Call" runs typically in batches of more than 3000, most of them weren't, in collectable terms, especially rare.  

2023 Dodge Challenger SRT Demon 170 Jailbreak in Panther Pink with satin black accents over black Alcantara and Laguna leather.

In the Demon 170 Jailbreak program, there were 40 exclusive paint colors and this is the sole example in Panther Pink.  The model was rated at 1025 HP and, with a different design of front splitter, was fitted with a two-piece underwire.  The first Supermarine Spitfires and Hawker Hurricanes which in 1940 fought the Messerschmitt Bf 109s & Bf 110s in English skies during the Battle of Britain were rated at 1030 HP and while the power characteristics of car and aeroplane were very different, the numbers are indicative of 80-odd years of progress. 

Dealers cautioned against the trend, noting the pieces weren't specifically molded to ensure a perfect fit so dirt and moisture were prone to being trapped in the gaps and this could scuff the paint.  They were known also as "damage guards" and "scuff guards" but more imaginative souls dubbed them the "underwire" while serious students of such things suggested a better simile might have been "pastie", while acknowledging Chrysler followed the lead of the underwear manufacturers in having available both single and two-piece "underwires" although this was coincidental and deterministic, dictated by the splitter design.  Women have been known to remove from bras especially intrusive underwires (a "comfort thing") but whether on splitters they were kept or discarded might have seemed an improbable subject for dispute but with cars, men always find a reason to argue about something.  Although probably it would have preferred to discuss horsepower, superchargers and such, Chrysler noted the cultural phenomenon and, while obviously reluctant to upset either faction, did issue a statement to a magazine which had requested comment:

"The splitter guards on Dodge Charger and Challenger have taken on a life of their own. They originally made their debut in the 2015 model year to protect the performance fascias on SRT models during shipment from the manufacturing facility to the dealer, and, yes, they are designed to be removed before delivery.  But today, they have their own Facebook page, and many of our performance enthusiasts have active debates on whether to keep or remove them. Some owners say they are even selling them in the aftermarket.  Obviously, they weren't part of the original design, so we started with yellow guards and shifted to pink, but they are still so popular that we may shift them yet again to black. Wherever we land, this is another example of how our customers are passionate about every part of their Dodge muscle cars."

1970 Dodge Challenger hardtop 440 Six Pack in Panther Pink High Impact (code FM3) over black vinyl (code X9) with houndstooth cloth inserts (code 5).  On the Challenger, Panther Pink (FM3) was offered only in the spring of 1970.

By the twenty-first century, long done were the days in the early 1950s when Chrysler Corporation was run by men with an ethos that cars should be designed so “a gentleman can drive one while wearing his hat” and if that dictated stodgy looking vehicles, so be it.  That changed with the release of the 1955 range and from then on, for better or worse it was all about style but by the early 2000s, the company reached the same conclusion as GM (General Motors) and Ford: automotive aesthetics attained their peak in the late 1960s and what’s been done since hasn’t been as good.  Accordingly, for the release of the third generation (although many don’t count the second because it was a badge-engineered Japanese import) Challenger (2008-2023), Dodge produced a most accomplished re-imagining of the first (1970-1974), a vehicle which was a costly commercial failure although that was due more to external conditions than the thing’s dynamic qualities.  Between 2008-2023 the Challenger was produced in a bewildering number of variants, many with some of the longer multi-part model names and it’s doubtful if any but the most devoted fan-boys could either recall or deconstruct the configuration of them all.

Designer colors and more: Publicity shot for the Porsche Sonderwunsch programme; note the rubber laid down on the concrete.

On intriguing piece of nomenclature was “Jailbreak” which Chrysler’s marketing types picked up from the use in various sub-cultures to circumvent manufacturers’ restrictions on devices like smartphones although this was a case of Dodge “hacking itself” (using “hack” loosely) because the Jailbreak “customization program” was explained as a way in which buyers could bypass the previous limitations on what could be ordered with which, enabling them to “mix ’n’ match”.  The concept is of course familiar in the fiscally rarefied air breathed in placed like the Porsche Sonderwunsch (special request) office but it wasn’t new to Detroit, Cadillac in the happy days of the 1960s, despite in a typical year offering literally over a hundred combinations of interior & exterior combinations also offered buyers the chance to make “special requests”.  There's no record of Cadillac attempting to act as the "good taste police" and presumably if some buyer did ask for an aesthetically dubious combination, duly it was built although the factory did refuse to use light colors on dashboard pads or package shelves because of the risk of reflections in the glass.  The deviations from the production line rationalization which was designed for optimal efficiency of course came at a cost and took additional time but everything was priced at a level to ensure the profitability to which Cadillac had become accustomed.

The jailbreak programme was also available on the Charger.

For Dodge the Jailbreak programme was run on similar lines and while not quite an “anything goes” approach, it was more permissive and for the Challenger’s final two seasons (2022-2023), buyers of SRT Hellcat or SRT Hellcat Redeye models could “fine-tune” things like paint, interior trim, wheels, stripes, badges and other items in a way the factory had not previously permitted.  As icing on the jailbreak cake, the SRT Hellcat Redeye Jailbreak cars received a more potent engine, rated at 807 horsepower, a number which would have seemed a fantasy in the era of the second generation Challenger when the most powerful engine offered probably generated (in comparable terms) around 435-445 HP.

The Royal Navy's Battle Cruisers opening fire in the opening stages of the Battle of Jutland, 31 May 1916, (1919), oil on canvas by Lionel Wyllie (1851–1931).

Fought in 1916 between the UK’s Royal Navy and the Navy of the German Empire (the so-called “Second Reich”), the battle of Jutland in 1916 was the closest the world got to the clash on the high seas of fleets of dreadnoughts, an event the navalists and theorists had for a generation be expecting or hankering.  For a variety of reasons it proved anti-climatic (though at a cost of over 8,000 lives) but while a tactical victory for the Germans (in terms of ships sunk or damaged and causalities), strategically the British succeeded in ensuring for the rest of of World War I (1914-1918) their opponents were confined to a pocket of the Baltic, denied access to the North Sea and thus the Atlantic; this enabled the Royal Navy’s blockade of Germany to be maintained.  Summing up, the New York Times concluded: “The prisoner gave his jailor a bloody nose but at the end of the day was back behind bars in his jail cell.”  Barely noticed except in the halls of the admiralties (where it made a great impression) was the vulnerability of the battlecruiser, a class of ship of which much had been expected although at Jutland they were used in a way the theorists who suggested the configuration had neither intended nor recommended.

The concept of a “black jail” is ancient; it’s a jail where people can, for whatever reason, be imprisoned by some agency of state, often in secret and with no recourse to legal remedies or other procedures.  It can be thought of as a particular example of “being disappeared” and the use of such institutions was the origin of the judicial writ of habeas corpus (from the Latin habeas corpus ad subjiciendum (“You (shall) have the body to be subjected to (examination)”) which in the common law tradition can be translated as “bring them before the court so the lawfulness of their detention may be assessed”.  First seen in England in the twelfth century, the writ to this day remains (in Western nations) one of the core protections afforded to citizens.  In 2002, shortly after it invaded the place as an administrative convenience, the US established such a jail in Afghanistan and apparently it was controlled by the Department of Defence’s (now again the Department of War) intelligence office and staff from Army Special Operations although other agencies were known to have provided “specialized services”.  Existing always on a “neither confirm nor deny” basis, the US Black Jail was an example of the way things get done when it’s required to process irregular combatants in extreme conditions.

It illustrated too the use of language: Among nations party to the relevant conventions, whereas prisoners of war (ie those combatants who meet the definition) are held in “PoW (prisoner of war) Camps” and never lose their military status; others can end up in “jails”.  Of course, it can’t be certain organs of the state in some Western countries aren’t still in secret maintaining “black jails”, possibly without the knowledge of elected governments.  The system of concentration camps created during the Third Reich (1933-1945) began as a way for the state to regularize what had unexpectedly “sprung-up” as a number of “black jails” created informally by party members to imprison their many opponents and enemies.  It was a classic example of the essentially criminal, gangster nature of the Nazi state and while the authorities didn’t object to most of those in the black jails being incarcerated, they wanted it done on an organized, professional basis.  Structurally, the operation of the concentration camps was also a microcosm of the whole Nazi project: Those who could send victims to the camps or have them released had no say of what happened within the camps while those running the places could order neither an individual’s jailing nor their release.

Jail juice comes pre-packaged.

In 2011, the Salt Lake Tribune reported a case of botulism in jail juice fermented in a cell in the Utah State Prison, the source traced to a “bad” potato.  The prisoner responsible for the brew (containing powdered juice mix and several types of fresh and canned fruit) told medical staff he added the “two-week old baked potato” because he thought it would “accelerate fermentation”.

Jail juice is prison slang (originally a US form but now widely used, even beyond the English-speaking world) for the various forms of improvised alcoholic beverages (typically fermented) brewed in correctional facilities.  There are other slang forms of the concoctions including “prison hooch”, “swish”, “prison wine”, “toilet wine” & “loaf brew” (some forms of white bread said to be a good additive in the process once crumbed) but most descriptive was “pruno”.  Dating from the late 1930s, the name was derived from the use of prunes, then in ample supply in many US prison kitchens.  The term pruno became generic, later applied regardless of the fruit used in the fermentation.  A “phone jail” is a place (usually in schools) in which the mobile phones of students are locked away for certain durations (which can be short or the whole school day).  “Jailbait” describes someone (almost always female) who is (1) obviously sexually mature yet (2) was (or appeared to be) under the legal age of consent and was (3) considered attractive or seductive.  The term references the legal concept of statutory rape under which an adult engaging in consensual sexual relations with someone under whatever is the relevant age in that jurisdiction can convicted and jailed.

Lindsay Lohan “Mug Shots” coffee mugs.

In November, 2011, in a hearing held at Los Angeles Superior Court Airport branch, Lindsay Lohan was sentenced to 30 days in jail at Lynwood's Century Regional Detention Facility.  The penalty was imposed after she admitted violating the terms of her probation from a 2007 DUI (driving under the influence) case; she had failed to attend community service appointments at a Los Angeles women's shelter.  However, just 4½ hours into the 30-day sentence, she was handed a “get out of jail free card”, released because of chronic over-crowding in California's jail system.  Sometimes, you get lucky.

At least one “Get out of jail free” card has been included in every version of the Monopoly board game since first it was released in 1935 although most editions have featured two, one from the “Chance” stack, the other from “Community Chest”.  What possession of the card confers is the ability (as the name implies) for a player to move on from the jail square without having to throw three doubles (of the dice) in a role or pay a fine although, in certain circumstances, it can be adventitious for a player not to use the card and “remain in jail”, something which sometimes happens IRL (in real life).  From the board game comes the idiomatic use of “a get-out-of-jail-free card” to refer to “a certain privilege or advantage providing relief from an undesirable situation or immunity from punishment or consequences”.  Historically, states have sometimes offered similar devices although they’ve never been available for those accused of serious offences.

Macy’s department store, Herald Square, Manhattan, New York City.

In George Orwell’s (1903-1950) novel Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949), the Ministry of Love was responsible for the dispensation of fear and suffering and its most dreaded institution was Room 101, located in the basement of their headquarters.  Room 101 was a torture chamber in which the ruling party subjected prisoners to their individual worst nightmares and greatest fears, the purpose being finally to destroy any residual resistance.  Less threatening though equally specific is Room 140 at Macy’s department store Herald Square flagship store in Manhattan, New York City.  One of a few private “jails” in New York, those accused of shoplifting are escorted by security guards to Room 140’s cells where they can be held for hours, the stories told suggesting the detained are asked to sign an admission of guilt and pay sometimes hundreds of dollars in “fines”, sometimes without any conclusive proof of an offence.  That may sound medieval but a majority of US states do have on the books legislation which offer retailers often a wide latitude forcefully to hold and subsequently fine suspects, even if, technically, nothing has been stolen or criminal charges have been dropped.  The US industry’s problem is real because as much as US$15 billion is each year lost to shoplifting and the purpose of the laws is both a tacit admission the state would prefer not to be involved in “low dollar value” matters and a way to enable stores to recoup some losses.  Under New York's long-standing law, retailers may collect a penalty of five times the cost of the stolen merchandise (up to US$500 per item), plus as much as US$1,500 if the “recovered” merchandise isn't in a condition to be sold.  A conviction is not a pre-condition to bring a civil claim.

If ever Macy's comes under new management, hopefully the new operators will have a better sense of the sardonic and rename "Room 140" to "Room 101".

In operation, application has been controversial with claims retailers abuse the law by engaging in “racial profiling”, targeting minorities and holding customers for hours as a form of duress; Macy’s has in the past paid a settlement to the state to settle a number of claims.  Macy’s maintain their corporate policies prohibit coercion when recovering fines, recently issuing a statement: “Our policy of exercising our right to pursue a civil recovery payment is consistent with common practice in the retail industry and within the parameters of the law.”  Many retailers detain suspected shoplifters although few have their own jail cells and Macy’s is unusual in requesting the on-the-spot payment of fines.

Mnemonic

Mnemonic (pronounced ni-mon-ik)

(1) Something assisting or intended to assist the memory.

(2) Pertaining to mnemonics or to memory.

(3) In computing, truncated code thought easy to remember (eg STO for store).

1660–1670: From the New Latin mnemonicus from the Ancient Greek μνημονικός (mnēmonikós) (of memory) derived from μνήμων (mnḗmōn) (remembering, mindful) & μνᾶσθαι (mnâsthai) (to remember); the ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European men (to think).  The meaning "aiding the memory", a back-formation from mnemonics dates from 1753, the noun meaning "mnemonic device" is from 1858.  The use in computer programming emerged in the early days of code and was a space-saving (eg del rather than delete) tool as well.  Mnemonical was the original form from the 1660s.  One of the charming ironies of mnemonic is it is one of those words so many can't quite remember how to spell.  It's thus in a sense "antimnemonic" and a contronym (also as auto-antonym, antagonym, or enantiodrome) which describes a word with two opposite or contradictory meanings, depending on context.  Mnemonic is a noun & adjective, mnemonician, mnemonicalist, mnemotechnist & mnemonicon are nouns, mnemonize & mnemonized are verbs, mnemonical & mnemotechnic are adjectives and mnemonically & mnemotechnically are adverbs; the noun plural is mnemonics.

Sans Forgetica

Sans Forgetica sample text.

Recently released, Sans Forgetica (which translates as "without forgetting") is a sans-serif font developed by RMIT University in Melbourne.  Back-slanted and with gaps in the character constructions, it’s designed explicitly to assist readers better to understand and retain in their memory what they’ve read.  Perhaps counter-intuitively for those outside the field, the shape is intended to reduce legibility, thereby (1) lengthening the tame taken to read the text and (2) adding complexity to learning and absorbing what’s been read.  Together, they create what in cognitive psychology and neuroscience is called "desirable difficulty", in this case forcing (RMIT might prefer "nudging") people to concentrate.

The first three paragraphs of Lindsay Lohan's Wikipedia page, rendered in Sans Forgetica.  Sans was from the Middle English saunz & sans, from the Old French sans, senz & sens, from the Latin sine (without) conflated with absēns (absent, remote).   Forgetica was an opportunistic coining, the construct being forget + -ica.  Forget was from the Middle English forgeten, forgiten, foryeten & forȝiten, from the Old English forġietan (to forget) (which was influenced by the Old Norse geta (to get; to guess), from the Proto-West Germanic fragetan (to give up, forget).  The -ica suffix was from the Latin -ica, the neuter plural of -icus (belonging to derived from; of or pertaining to; connected with).

From usually a young age, readers become skilled at scanning text, a process helped by most publishers seeking to render their works as legible as possible.  The theory of desirable difficulty is that omitting parts of the font requires the reader to pause and process information more slowly, thus provoking an additional cognitive processing which may enhance both understanding and retention.  While the application of the science to a font is novel, there’s nothing original about Sans Forgetica as a piece of typography, it being described as a hybrid of several existing schools and within the theory, on the basis of a small-group sample of students, it’s claimed to be a balance between legibility and difficulty.  According to the documents supplied by the developer, it’s not been tested as a device for advertisers to draw people to their text, the theory of that being people scan and dismiss (without retention) the great bulk of the large, static signage which is a feature of just about every urban environment.  With Sans Forgetica, because it can’t as quickly be scanned, people will tend longer to linger and so more carefully read the whole; a memorable event itself.

The most recent revision (DSM-5-TR (2022)) to the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) followed DSM-5 (2013) in refining the somewhat vague section on amnesia in both the DSM-IV (1994) & DSM-IV-TR (2000) where appeared the terms “Psychogenic amnesia” & “dissociative amnesia”, the core element of which was: “one or more episodes of inability to recall important personal information, usually of a traumatic or stressful nature, that is too extensive to be explained by ordinary forgetfulness.”  That really reflected the popular understanding and there was no clear definition of sub-types in the diagnostic criteria although in the text (not always in criteria) there was mention of localized, selective or generalized forms.  In the fifth edition, the disorder was called Dissociative Amnesia (psychogenic amnesia seems to have been replaced) and it was listed in the dissociative disorders section.  The definition still includes an “inability to recall important autobiographical information, usually of a traumatic or stressful nature, that is inconsistent with ordinary forgetting” so the popular understanding remains acknowledged but sub-types are now listed: localized (for specific event(s)), selective (some parts of the event), or generalized (identity and life history) amnesia.  Consistent with the structural revisions elsewhere in the fifth edition, the exclusion criteria was made more explicit (ie the memory loss should not be due to substances, medication, a neurological condition or better accounted for by another mental disorder) although clinician remain aware of overlap.  Significantly the DSM-5 did clarify that amnesia is retrograde (loss of pre-existing memories), especially of autobiographical kind and emphasised the memory loss is “beyond what is expected from normal forgetting.”  Because in such matters, there will be so much variation between patients, it remains one of those conditions with fuzzy boundaries and the symptoms presented must be assessed on a case-by-case basis.

Amnesia (memory loss) is much studied and although associated with the aging process, traumatic events (brain injury or psychological impacts) and certain neurological conditions, there have been some celebrated cases of recovery without medical intervention.  One celebrated case was that of Rudolf Hess (1894–1987; Nazi Deputy Führer 1933-1941) who in 1941 (on the eve of Germany invading the USSR) flew himself to Scotland in a bizarre and unauthorized attempt to negotiate a peace deal with those in the UK he though would be "reasonable men".    His "offer" was rejected and he was locked up (including two weeks in the Tower of London), later to be sent as a defendant before the IMT (International Military Tribunal) in the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946).  There, so convincing were his symptoms of amnesia and other mental states the judges requested submissions from defence and prosecution counsel on the matter of his fitness to stand trial.  The prosecutors assured the bench Hess would be able to both understand and cope with the proceedings and that an imperfect memory was merely a hindrance to his defence rather than an insuperable obstacle.  This was of course a predictable argument and the judges acceded to the defence’s request for a thorough medical investigation although they declined the suggestion Swiss doctors be consulted, assembling instead a team from medical staff on hand (three Soviet, three American, three British and one French), all from the nations running the trial.  The physicians presented four national papers which broadly were in agreement: Hess was sane (as legally defined) but was suffering from hysterical amnesia, induced by his need to escape from uncomfortable realities, something they found was often typical of “those with Hess’s unstable personality”.  All concluded the amnesia was temporary and would vary in intensity, the US doctors suggesting it may even disappear were any threat of punishment removed.

Caricature of Rudolf Hess at the first Nuremberg Trial by New Zealand-born UK cartoonist David Low (1891-1963).

The author Rebecca West (1892–1983) covered the trial as a journalist and wrote some vivid thumbnail sketches, noting of Hess: “Hess was noticeable because he was so plainly mad: so plainly mad that it seemed shameful that he should be tried.  His skin was ashen and he had that odd faculty, peculiar to lunatics, of falling into strained positions which no normal person could maintain for more than a few minutes, and staying fixed in contortion for hours. He had the classless air characteristic of asylum inmates; evidently his distracted personality had torn up all clues to his past.  He looked as if his mind had no surface, as if every part of it had been blasted away except the depth where the nightmares live.”  Whether or not Hess was "mad" (as such folk were described in 1946) can be debated but to many at the time, he certainly looked a madman.

Predictably unconvinced, Hess’s counsel at a hearing on 30 November 1945 told the bench a defendant could hardly stage an adequate defence if unable to remember names or incidents vital to his case, adding that on the basis of discussions with his client, even if he understood the words, Hess was incapable of grasping the significance of the charges against him.  Nor would a trial in absentia be fair because it would constituent a “grave injustice” were a defendant not present to give evidence or challenge the testimony of witnesses.  He concluded by requesting proceedings against him should be suspended and resumed only if his condition significantly improved.  To that, the British countered with a lengthy lecture on the distinctions in English law between amnesia & insanity and seconded the Soviet view that participation in the trial (and thus the need to make a defence) might well cure his condition.  Essentially, the British argued if he could follow the proceedings, he was fit to stand trial.  The US team noted Hess had at times claimed to be suffering amnesia while in captivity in England between 1941-1945 and on other occasions admitted the condition was simulated.  In the slang of the English criminal bar: “He had a bit of previous”.  The Americans also expressed annoyance at him having repeatedly refused any of the treatment prescribed by the Allied doctors, concluding: “He is in the volunteer class with his amnesia”.  The lawyers having finished, the IMT asked Hess if he wished to speak on the matter.  Without delay, he rose in the dock and walked to the microphone where he addressed the court in a clear and calm voice, his statement coherent, unambiguous and, most historians have concluded, clearly premeditated: “Henceforth my memory will again respond to the outside world.  The reasons for simulating loss of memory were of a tactical nature.  Only my ability to concentrate is, in fact, somewhat reduced.  But my capacity to follow the trial, to defend myself, to put questions to witnesses, or to answer questions myself is not affected thereby.  I also simulated loss of memory in consultations with my officially appointed defence counsel. He has therefore represented in good faith.”

He then sat down in what was described as a “stunned courtroom”.  It was at that point the trial’s most sensational moment and after taking a few seconds to digest things, the assembled press pack in their dozens rushed outside to file the story (the US military newspaper Stars and Stripes ran the punchy headline “Hess Nuts. Fake Story Fake”).  Immediately, the president of the IMT adjourned the session and the judges went into private session to decide whether Hess should be tried.  From their subsequent interviews and writings it appears they were not much influenced by Hess’s unexpected statement but were impressed by the similarity of the conclusions offered by the doctors, the chief US prosecutor saying such “unanimity of medical opinion” was, in his experience: “historically unique”.  All eight judges agreed Hess was fit to stand trial and, after being convicted on two counts ((1) conspiracy to wage aggressive war and (2) waging aggressive war), he was handed a life sentence and would remain incarcerated until in 1987 he committed suicide after some 46 years behind bars, the last two decades of which were served as the sole inmate (guarded by dozens of soldiers on rotation from France, the UK, US and USSR) of Berlin’s sprawling Spandau Prison, a huge facility designed to incarcerate hundreds.

Low’s take on the official German line explaining Hess deserting the German government as “madness”.  This cartoon does represent what was then the prevailing public perception of the typical appearance expected of those in “lunatic asylums”.  Depicted (left to right) are:

Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945): Committed suicide by by crushing between his teeth an ampule of a potassium cyanide (KCN), smuggled into his cell in circumstances never confirmed, shortly before he was to be hanged after being convicted on all four counts ((1) Conspiracy to wage aggressive war; (2) Waging aggressive war; (3) War crimes and (4) Crimes against humanity.

Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945): With his wife Eva (née Braun; 1912–1945) of a few hours, committed suicide (he by gunshot and KCN, she by KCN alone) with the tanks of the Red Army only a couple of blocks from the Berlin Führerbunker.

Dr Robert Ley (1890–1945; head of the Deutsche Arbeitsfront (German Labour Front) 1933-1945): Before the trial began, he committed suicide by hanging (by means of suffocation) himself from the toilet-pipe in his cell in Nuremberg, after having for some years made a reasonable attempt to drink himself to death.  He died with his underpants stuffed in his mouth, decades before the phrase "Eat my shorts!" began to circulate in popular culture.

Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945): Hanged at Nuremberg after being convicted on all four counts.

Dr Joseph Goebbels: With his wife (Magda Goebbels (née Ritschel; 1901-1945), committed suicide (by gunshot) in the courtyard above the Führerbunker, shortly after they’d murdered their six young children.

Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945): Captured by the British while attempting to escape disguised as a soldier, he committed suicide using an ampule of KCN concealed in his mouth.

Whether Hess was at any point insane (in the legal or medical sense) remains debated although, as is often the case, more interesting still is the speculation about just when the instability began.  Whether any credence can be attached to the official statement on the matter from the Nazi Party is doubtful but in the view of Reich Chancellery, his madness predated his flight to Scotland in 1941 (one of the strangest incidents of World War II (1939-1945)).  What the German press was told to publish was that Hess had become "deluded and deranged", his mental health affected by injuries sustained during World War I (1914-1918) and that he'd fallen under the influence of astrologers.  Just to make that sound convincing, the police conducted a crackdown (a well oiled technique in the Nazi state) on soothsayers and fortune-tellers.  Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1975; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945) wasn't consulted before the "madness" explanation was announced and he seems to have been the only senior figure in the regime to grasp the potential implications of revealing to the public that for some time the country's deputy leader had been mad.  Others though did make the connection.  When Hermann Göring tried to shift the blame to aircraft designer and manufacturer Willy Messerschmitt (1898–1978) because he'd provided Hess a twin-engined Bf 110 Zerstörer (destroyer (heavy fighter)) for his flight, the engineer responded by saying Göring was more culpable because he should have done something about having someone unstable serving as Deputy Führer.  Göring could only laugh and told Messerschmitt to go back to building warplanes and, as it turned out, the strange affair was but a "nine day wonder" for not only did the British make no attempt to use Hess's arrival on their soil for propaganda purposes (which astonished Goebbels) but other events would soon dominate the headlines.  The only place where the strange flight left a great impression was in the Kremlin where comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) for years mulled over who within the British establishment might have conspired with Hess to allow the UK to withdraw from the conflict, leaving Germany able to invade Russia without having to fight on two fronts.  Historians have concluded the reluctance by the British to use for propaganda the arrival of Hess was their concern comrade Stalin might suspect collusion. 

Arthur Sinodinos, b 1957; Liberal Party functionary and minister variously 2007-2019; Australian ambassador to the US 2019-2023, right ) presenting to Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025, left) his credentials as Australia's ambassador to the US, the White House, Washington DC, February 2020.

Less dramatic but perhaps medically even more remarkable than the Hess affair was the recovery from amnesia by Arthur Sinodinos, a case which deserves to enter the annals of academic psychiatry & neurology (and debatably, those of the thespians).  In Australia, royal commissions are public investigations, established by but independent of government.  Not a court, royal commissions are created to enquire into matters of public importance and, within their terms of reference, have broad powers to conduct public & in camera hearings; they can call witnesses, compelling them (under oath) to provide testimony and they deliver recommendations to government about what should be done, consequent upon their findings.  These can include recommendations for legislative or administrative changes and the prosecution of institutions or individuals and they’re of great interest because they appear to be the only institution (at least theoretically) able to compel a politician to tell the truth.  Even that power is limited though because when appearing before royal commissions, politicians seem especially prone to suffering amnesia, an obviously distressing condition which compels them frequently to utter phrases like “I can’t remember”, “I don’t recall”, “not in my recollection” etc.  In the lore of the New South Wales (NSW) bar, Mr Sinodinous, while in 2014 being questioned by an enquiry, is believed to have set a record for the frequency with which the condition manifested.  Fortunately, the enquiry handed down no adverse findings against him and almost immediately, his memory appeared miraculously to recover, enabling the Australian Liberal Party government to appoint him ambassador to the US in 2019 so there's that.  The following transcript is wholly fake news:

Donald Trump: "What did you and Joe Biden talk about?"

Arthur Sinodinous: "I can't remember."

Donald Trump: "Not to worry, he won't remember either."

In the rich slang of the NSW bar, the condition once known as RCM (Royal Commission Memory) is now also referred to as “Sinodinos Syndrome”, on the model of “Marcinkus Syndrome” which describes the medical status of Roman Catholic priests who, being investigated for this, that or the other, although seemingly fit and healthy, are never able to be certified quite well enough to be interviewed by police or other authorities.  The condition is named after Archbishop Paul Marcinkus (1922–2006; President of the Institute for the Works of Religion (the “Vatican Bank’) 1971-1989).

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”).

(5) The world's best known women's fashion magazine, the first issue in 1892 and now published by Condé Nast.

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, voguie & 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.  The noun voguie is a special use and is a synonym of fashionista ((1) one who creates or promotes high fashion (designers, editors, models, influencers etc) or (2) one who dresses according to the trends of fashion, or one who closely follows those trends).

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 young devotees of its advice (they are legion) 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 etc).  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 Regional English, "vogue" could mean "fog or mist" and in Cornwall, the hamlet of Vogue in the parish of St Day gained its name from the Medieval Cornish vogue (a word for a medieval smelting furnace (ie "blowing house", the places generating much smoke)); civilization contributing to the increase in atmospheric concentrations of greenhouse gasses is nothing new.  Clearly better acquainted with trademark law than geography, in early 2022 counsel for Condé Nast sent a C&D (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 owners of the venerable pub declined the request (cheekily suggesting they might send their own C&D to Vogue demanding the publication find a new name on the basis of usurpation (an old tort heard before the Court of Chivalry).  Condé Nast subsequently apologized, citing insufficient investigation by their staff, a framed copy of their letter hung on the pub's wall.  Honor apparently satisfied on both sides, the two Vogues resumed the peaceful co-existence which had prevailed since 1892. 

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 legitimized (though there were earlier ventures) the idea of the "luxury" four-wheel-drive (4WD) segment although the interior of the original was very basic (the floor-coverings rubber mats rather than carpets on the assumption that, as with the even more utilitarian Land Rovers, there would be a need to "hose out" the mud accumulated from a day's HSF (huntin', shootin' & fishin')), the car’s reputation built more on it's then unique blend of competence on, and off-road.  So good was the Range Rover in both roles 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 the more spartan interior although it was quickly apparent few owners took advantage of being able to hose out the mud.  Indeed, so skewed was the buyer profile to urban profiles it's likely the only time many ventured off the pavement was to find a good spot in the car parks of polo fields.  In something which must now seem remarkable, although already perceived as a "prestige" vehicle, for the first decade-odd, the Range Rover was not available with either air-conditioning or an automatic transmission.  However, if the rich were riding out the decade well, British Leyland (which owned Rover) was not and it lacked the capital to devote to the project.  Others took advantage of what proved a profitable niche and those with the money (or spending OPM (other people's money) could choose from a variety of limited-production and bespoke offerings including LWB (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.  The eight page advertising supplement was for Lancôme and Jaeger fashion collections, the Wood & Pickett-trimmed Range Rover a "backdrop" which would prove a serendipitous piece of product placement. 

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 compelled 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 received letters in envelopes with postage stamps) was overwhelmingly filled with enquiries about the blinged-up Range-Rover (although "bling" was a linguistic generation away from use).

Vogue's Range Rover In Vogue (HAC 414W) in Biarritz, 1981, all nuts on board or otherwise attached.  The model name was a play on words, Range Rovers very much "in vogue" and this particular version substantially the one "in Vogue".

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 closely replicating the photo-shoot car except for the special aluminum wheels which were not yet in volume production.  Amusingly, the triple-spoke wheels (similar to the design Ford had used on the 1979 (Fox) Mustang) had been 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 and some small print: "Alloy wheels, as featured on the vehicle used by Vogue magazine will be available at extra cost through Unipart dealers later in 1981".  British Leyland's record-keeping was at the time as chaotic as much of its administration so it remains unclear how many were built.  The factory said the run would be 1,000, all in right hand drive (RHD) but many left hand drive (LHD) examples exist and it’s thought demand from the continent was such another small batch was built although this has never been confirmed.  The In Vogue’s exclusive features were:

Light blue metallic paint (the model-exclusive Vogue Blue) with wide body stripes in two shades of grey (not black as on the prototype).
High compression (9.35:1) version of the V8 (to provide more torque).
Higher high-gear ratio (0.996:1) in the transfer box (to reduce engine speed and thus noise in highway driving).
Air conditioning
Varnished walnut door cappings.
Armrest between the front seats.
Map pockets on the back of the front seats (the rationale for not including the folding picnic tables so beloved by English coach-builders being the design of the Range Rover's rear tailgate had made it the "de-facto picnic table".
Fully carpeted luggage compartment.
Carpeted spare wheel cover and tool-kit curtain.
Picnic hamper.
Stainless steel tailgate cap.
Black wheel hub caps.

The "fitted picnic hamper".

Condé Nast would later describe the In Vogue’s custom picnic hamper as the car’s "pièce de résistance". which might have amused Rover's engineers who would have put some effort into stuff they'd have thought "substantive".  Now usually written in English as "piece de resistance" (masterpiece; the most memorable accomplishment of one’s career or lifetime; one's magnum opus (great work)), the French phrase pièce de résistance (literally the "piece which has staying power") seems first to have appeared in English in Richard Cumberland (1732–1811) novel Arundel (1789).  One can see the writer's point.  Although the walnut, additional torque and certainly the air conditioning would have been selling points, like nothing else, the picnic hamper would have delighted the target market.

Demand for the In Vogue far exceeded supply and additional production runs quickly were scheduled.  In response to customer demand, the most frequently made request was acceded to, the second series available with Chrysler's robust TorqueFlite automatic transmission, introduced at the same time as the debut of a four-door version, another popular enquiry while the three-spoke wheels became standard equipment and equipment levels continued to rise, rear-head restraints fitted along with a much enhanced sound-system.  In what was perhaps a nod to the wisdom of the magazine's editors, although a cooler replaced the hamper for the second run, for the third, buyers received both cooler and hamper.  The third series, launched in conjunction with the Daks autumn fashion collection at Simpson's of Piccadilly, included a digital radio, the convenience of central locking and the almost unnoticed addition of front mud flaps so clearly there was an understanding that despite the Range Rover's well deserved reputation as a "Chelsea taxi", the things did sometimes see the mud and ladies didn't like the stuff getting on their dresses as they alighted.  In 1984, as "Vogue", it became the regular production top-of-the-range model and for many years served in this role although, for licencing reasons, when sole in the US it was called the "Country").  For both companies, the In Vogue and subsequent Vogues turned out to be the perfect symbiosis.

Art and Engineering

Vogue, January 1925, cover art by Georges Lepape.

From the start, Vogue (the magazine) 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 habitually were 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.

1927 Voisin C14 Lumineuse.

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 took six months to complete the project and when sold at auction in London in 2022, it realized Stg£202,500.  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.

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

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 known at sea where they’re used in (very) big ships but on the road (apart from some less than successful 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) H16s (two flat-8s, one atop another) 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.  Straight-12s were built for use in aircraft (Bristol's Type 25 Braemar II in 1919 using four of them!) where the attraction was the aerodynamic advantage conferred by the small frontal area but as engine speeds increased in the 1920s, so did the extent of the problem of crankshaft flex and the concept was never revived.

1934 Voisin C15 Saloit Roadster (left) and the one-off Packard straight-12, scrapped when the decision was taken not to proceed to production (right).

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.  The concept of a short engine in a lengthy compartment was revived by Detroit in the 1960s & 1970s, many of the truly gargantuan full-sized sedans and coupes built with elongated front & rear structures.  At the back, the cavernous trunks (boots) often could swallow four sets of gold clubs which would have had some appeal to the target market but much of the space under the hood was unused.  While large enough to accommodate a V16, the US industry hadn't made those since the last of the Cadillac V16s left the line in 1940 after a ten-year run.  While one of the reasons the V8 had supplanted the straight-8 was its relatively compact length, that virtue wasn't needed by the late 1950s when, in all directions, the sheet-metal grew well beyond what was required by the mechanical components, the additional size just for visual impact to enhance the perception of prestige and luxury in an era when bigger was better.  Dramatic though the look could be (witness the 1969 Pontiac Grand Prix), the packaging efficiency was shockingly wasteful.

The Dart which never was

Using one of his signature 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 appeared on the cover (left) of Vogue's UK edition in November 1959, the original's (right) color being "enhanced" in the Vogue pre-production editing tradition (women thinner, cars shinier).  The "wide" whitewall tyres were a thing at the time, even on sports cars and were a popular option on US market Jaguar E-Types (there (unofficially) called XK-E or XKE) in the early 1960s.  The car on the Vogue cover was XHP 438, built on prototype chassis 100002 at Compton Verney in 1959; it's the oldest surviving SP250, the other two prototypes (chassis 100000 & 100001 from 1958) dismantled when testing was completed.  XHP 438 was the factory's press demonstrator and was used in road tests by Motor and Autocar magazines before being re-furbished (motoring journalists subjecting the press fleet to a brief but hard life) and sold.  Uniquely, when XPH 438 was first registered in England, it was as a "Daimler Dart".

More Issues Than Vogue sweatshirt from Impressions.

There was however an issue with the "Dart" name.  The 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.  Cynically, the name was between 2012-2016 revived for an unsuccessful and unlamented FWD (front-wheel-drive) compact sedan.