Elite

Elite (pronounced ay-leet (U) or e-leet (non-U))

(1) The choice or best of anything considered collectively, as of a group or class of persons (often used with a plural verb).

(2) Historically, persons of the highest class (used with a plural verb).  Once associated mostly with high birth or social position (the aristocratic or patrician), it’s now a much applied and contested concept.

(3) A group of persons exercising the major share of authority or influence within a larger group.

(4) A typeface, approximately 10-point in printing-type size, widely used in typewriters and having 12 characters to the inch and now included in many digital font sets.

(5) Representing the most choice or select; best; of, relating to, or suitable for an elite; exclusive

1350–1400: From the Middle English (in the sense of "a person elected to office"), from the Middle French e(s)lit (chosen), feminine past participle of e(s)lisre & e(s)lire (to choose), from the Latin ēligere (to elect), the past participle electus; the source of the modern elect, election & related forms.  Variations are created as required such as anti-elite, global-elite, non-elite, power-elite & super-elite.  Words in a similar sense include exclusive, silk-stocking, aristocracy, celebrity, establishment, society, choice, cool, crack, elect, noble, pick, super, top, best, cream & gentility.  The alternative spelling is the French élite and use of the French pronunciation the "U" ay-leet rather than the "non-U" e-leet is one of the "class-identifiers" on which readers of publications like Country Life focus when meeting folk.

Use in English became more frequent after 1823 in the sense of "a choice or select body, the best part".  Earlier, in fourteenth century Middle English it had been borrowed from French with the meaning "chosen person" (and was used much in ecclesiastical documents to describe a bishop-elect) but had died out by the middle of the next century.  Elite was re-introduced to general use when it appeared by in Lord Byron's (1788-1824) epic poem Don Juan (1819-1824); it caught on and was by 1852 an adjective.  The noun elitism (advocacy of or preference for rule or social domination by an elite element in a system or society; attitude or behavior of persons who are or deem themselves among the elite) dates from 1951 and is an early example of the development of the language of critical theory which emerged, encouraged by the vast increase in the social sciences in the expanded universities of the post-war years.

IBM 12 Point Pitch 96 character "Golf Ball" Prestige Elite font for Selectric III Typewriter.

Introduced in 1961, the IBM Selectric (a portmanteau of select(ive) + (elect)ric)) was a landmark of modern industrial design and the last major advance in desktop document production before the word processor.  Built to the high standard for which IBM was once renowned, it allowed users to change font sets within seconds, simply by swapping the "element" which everybody except IBM staff (always in blue suits and white shirts) called "golf balls".  At the time the concept of a swappable character set was actually decades old and systems using flat, rotating "wheels" were the usual alternative approach but the Selectric did it best and in the 1960s there was still a enticing allure to the IBM name.  The most popular of the early fonts were Elite, Gothic & Courier (all available in several variations.  The first Elite typeface was released in 1920 and used by both typewriters and hot metal typesetting.  Prestige Elite (usually referred to as “Prestige” or “Elite”), was a monospaced typeface, created in 1953 for IBM and among the most popular of those available for the Selectric.  Optimized for the particular technology of the typewriter, Prestige Elite was characterized by the large x-height and moderate stroke thickness suitable for ribbon-based impact printing.  Unlike the similar Courier, the Elite sets did not transition to the digital age although TrueType, PostScript and other formats of variations of Elite are commercially available.

The rise in use of the adjective elitist (advocating or preferring rule or social domination by an elite element in a system or society; deeming oneself to be among the elite) is noted from the same era, the original adjectival examples including Sigmund Freud (1856-1939), Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900), and Thomas Carlyle (1795–1881).  The nous use quickly followed although some dictionaries insist it’s not attested until 1961.  The concept attracted much attention from sociologists exploring structures of power and the relationships between them, much discussed in Michael Young’s (1915-2002) The Rise of the Meritocracy (1958) although, while intended as a critique of a society increasingly divided between a skilled power-holding elite and a disenfranchised underclass of the less qualified, meritocracy, to the author’s disquiet, meritocracy (and meritocratic) evolved into a word with at least neutral and often positive connotations.

Shoes for elite feet: Lindsay Lohan in Isabel Marant Poppy Elite Suede Pumps in beige, New York City, August 2015.  Jeans for the elite now can affect the look of the tatterdemalion ("distressed" the industry term) which once was a mark of the clothing of the poor but they should include a label confirming their US$800 + cost, a particular art of "implied price-taggery". 

Charles Wright Mills (1916–1962 and usually styled C Wright Mills) was an American sociologist who published the much criticized but also influential The Power Elite (1956) which appears to have introduced the term to political criticism.  Mills took a structuralist approach and explored the clusters of elites and how their relationships and interactions works to enable them to exert (whether overtly or organically) an essentially dictatorial control over US society and its economy.  Mills, while acknowledging some overlap between the groups, identified six clusters of elites: (1) those who ran the large corporations, (2) those who owned the corporations, (3) popular culture celebrities including the news media, (4) the upper-strata of wealth-owning families, (5) the military establishment (centred on the Pentagon’s Joint Chiefs of Staff) and (6), the upper echelons of government (the executives, the legislatures the judges, the senior bureaucracy and the duopoly of the two established political parties.  The overlaps he noted did not in any way diminish the value of his description, instead illustrating its operation.

Although criticized as being more a left-wing polemic than conventional academic research (something from which Mills really didn’t demur), The Power Elite aged well and influenced many, the famous caution President Eisenhower (1890–1969; president of the US 1953-1961) issued in his valedictory address warning of the “military-industrial complex” was quite Millsian and a helpful contribution to the library of structuralism.  Generations of sociologists and others would develop his idea of the new and shifting construct of a ruling class and culture.  In recent years, elite has become a term used (usually between elites) as an accusation; elite populists finding their base responsive to the label being applied to those of whom they're anyway most suspicious: journalists, scientists, academics etc. 

The Lotus Elite

1959 Lotus Elite S1.

The design of the Lotus Elite (Type 14, 1957-1963) was a catalogue of innovation, some of which would have an immediate effect on the industry though some would proved too difficult to implement in mass-production and, except for the most expensive, impossible profitably to pursue on a smaller scale.  Most distinctive was a technique borrowed from aviation, the stressed-skin glass-fibre unibody which obviated entirely the need for a chassis or space-frame, the body an integrated, load-bearing structure.  The only substantial steel components were a sub-frame supporting the engine and front suspension and a hoop to which was attached the windscreen, door hinges and jacking points.  In an indication of how much things have changed, the hoop was the extent of passenger protection.

Club sandwich: The Elite's triple-layer monocoque.

Even had all the components been produced in accordance with the specification, many parts of the structure were so close to the point of failure that some revisions to the design would anyway have been necessary but the early cars were far from perfect.  The contact for the fabrication of the bodies had been won by a boat-builder, then one of the few companies with much experience in molding fibreglass.  However, the Elite was a more complex design than a boat hull and fibreglass was still a novel material, even Chevrolet in the United States, with access to the financial and engineering resources of General Motors, found early in the production of the Corvette there were lessons still to be learned.  After the first 250-odd were built, Lotus became aware there were problems, the need for a fix urgent.  Cleverly, the body consisted of three stressed-fiberglass layers which, when joined in a monocoque, created the bulkheads and eight torsion boxes gave the structure its strength and stiffness although the success was something of a surprise.  The designer, working in the pre-CAD era and with no experience of the behavior of fibreglass, had doubted the material would be strong enough so had the first prototype built with some steel and aluminum plates sandwiched between the layers with mounting brackets bonded in points at the rear to support the suspension and differential mountings.  In subsequent tests, these proved unnecessary but so poorly molded were many of the layers that structural failures became common, the resin porings of inconsistent thickness creating weaknesses at critical points, suspension struts and differentials known to punch themselves loose from mountings or even tear away chunks of the supposedly supporting fibreglass.

1962 Lotus Elite S2.

Needing an operation more acquainted with the tight tolerances demanded in precision engineering, Lotus switched suppliers, the molding contract granted to the Bristol Aeroplane Company. This transformed quality control and the remaining 750-odd Elites carried an S2 designation, the early cars retrospectively (but unofficially) dubbed S1.  Even so, despite the improved, lighter and stiffer shell, it would be another generation before the structural implications of fibreglass would fully be understood and the flaws inherent in the design remained, suspension attachment points sometimes still prone to detachment, Lotus content to the extent it now happened only under extreme loading rather than habitually.

Coventry Climax FWE, 1962 Lotus Elite S2 SE.

Improbably, the power-plant was the 1.2 litre Coventry Climax FWE (Fire-Water-Elite), an all-aluminum inline four cylinder engine which began life as the FWA (feather weight automotive), derived from a water-pumping unit for the UK Government’s fleet of fire-trucks but, small, light and robust, when tuned, it proved ideally suited to motorsport.  The first derivative for competition was the FWB, the unexpected fork prompting Coventry-Climax to rename to versions still used on fire-trucks to FWP (P=Pump).  The FWE was produced especially for the Elite but its qualities attracted a number of specialist race-car builders and in historic racing, the little powerhouse remains competitive to this day.

Nürburgring 1000 km, May 1962 (Hunt / Buxton (DNF)).

The combination of light-weight, a surprisingly powerful engine and a degree of aerodynamic efficiency which few for decades would match delivered a package with a then unrivalled combination of performance and economy.  On the road, point-to-point, it was able to maintain high average speeds under most conditions and only in then unusual places like the German autobahns with their unlimited speeds could heavier, more powerful machines assert their advantage.

Le Mans 24 Hour, June 1959.  Lotus Elite #41 leads Ferrari 250TR #14. The Ferrari (DNF) retired after overheating, the Elite finishing eighth overall, winning the 1.5 litre GT class.

On the circuits, it enjoyed an illustrious career, notable especially for success in long-distance events at the Nürburgring and Le Mans.  The frugal fuel consumption was an important factor too, as well as claiming five class trophies in the Le Mans 24 hour race, the Elite twice won the mysterious Indice de performance (an index of thermal efficiency), a curious piece of mathematics actually designed to ensure, regardless of other results, a French car would always win something.

Lotus Elite (Leo Geoghegan), Phillip Island, 1960.  That year an Elite would win the Australian GT Championship, contested on the Mount Panorama circuit at Bathurst. 

One problem however was never solved: profitability.  It was something which would plague the UK’s low-volume manufacturers throughout the 1960s, for, whatever the design and engineering prowess available, there was often a lack of financial acumen and accounting skills, many companies never fully evolving from their cottage-industry origins in a back shed, their administrative structures still close to the family business they had once been.  Whether Lotus lost quite as much per Elite as the legend suggests isn’t known but it certainly wasn’t profitable.  Those lessons were learned and the replacement, while less intriguing a design, would be easier to build, more reliable in operation and, compared to the Elite, mass-produced.  The replacement was called the Elan.

1975 Lotus Elite 503 (Type 75).

The Elite name was reprised.  Between 1974-1982, the Elite (Types 75 & 83) was one of a number of the then fashionable wedge-shaped designs which would litter the decade.  Effectively replacing the Elan +2, the new Elite was big and heavy by earlier standards, its performance in some aspects inferior to the Elan but it was a difficult era and many manufacturers with more resources did worse.  Later variations of this were called the Eclat and Excel but, like much of what was done in the 1970s, none are remembered with great fondness.

Lotus Elite Concept, 2010.

More promising was the Elite Concept, shown in 2010.  Hardly original, and actually derivative in just about every way, it nevertheless tantalized all with a specification list including Toyota’s fine 5.0 litre Lexus V8 but any hope of a production version vanished after one of the many corporate restructures undertaken in the wake of the global financial crisis (GFC, 2009-2011).

Vagrant

Vagrant (pronounced vey-gruhnt)

(1) A person who wanders about idly and has no permanent home or employment; vagabond; tramp.

(2) In law in a number of jurisdictions, an idle person without visible means of support, as a tramp or beggar.

(3) A person who wanders from place to place; wanderer; rover; wandering idly without a permanent home or employment; living in vagabondage:

(4) In botanical science, plants showing uncontrolled or straggling growth (or, in casual use), a leaf blown by the wind.

(5) In zoology (especially ornithology), an animal, typically a bird, found outside its species’ usual range (and used also to describe a migratory animal that is off course)

(6) A widely-distributed Asian butterfly, Vagrans egista, family Nymphalidae.

1400-1450: From the Middle English vagraunt (wandering about) from the Anglo-Norman vageraunt, wakerant, wacrant, waucrant & walcrant (vagrant).  It’s thought probably from the Old French wacrant & waucrant (wandering about), apparently the present participle of wacrer, waucrer & walcrer (to wander, wander about as a vagabond), from the Frankish walkrōn (to wander about), a frequentative form of walkōn (to walk, wander, trample, stomp, full), from the Proto-Germanic walkōną, wancrer & walkaną (to twist, turn, roll about, full), from the primitive Indo-European walg & walk (to twist, turn, move). It was cognate with the Old High German walchan & walkan (to move up and down, to press together, full, walk, wander), the Middle Dutch walken (to knead, full), the Old English wealcan (to roll), the Old English ġewealcan (to go, walk about), the Old Norse valka (to wander) and the Latin valgus (bandy-legged, bow-legged).  Vagrant, vagrantism, vagrantness, vagrantness, vagrance & vagrancy are nouns, vagrantly is an adverb and vagrantize is a verb; the noun plural is vagrants. 

The archaic equivalent was vagrom (ˈveɪɡrəm) and, although contested, the evolution may have been influenced by the Old French vagant (vagabond) which is derived from the Latin vagārī (to wander).  The Old French waucrer is interesting because of the twin suffixes, (the construct being walc- + -r- (frequentative suffix) + -en (infinitive suffix).  Both vagrant and vagabond ultimately derive from the Latin word vagārī, (wander).  Vagabond is derived from Latin vagabundus; in Middle English, vagabond originally denoted a criminal.  The use of vagrancy to describe a "life of idle begging, is attested from 1706 and in the 1640s it was used in the figurative sense of, "mental wandering", an allusion to the earlier literal meaning.  By the late eighteenth century, in English law it had become a catch-all for miscellaneous petty offenses against public order and this was, to varying degrees, effected in most English-speaking jurisdictions, often in a category of “statutory offences” whereby the police could arrest and impose periods of brief incarceration without any judicial review.  In some places, these arrangements lasted well into the twentieth century.

William Shakespeare (1564–1616) was masterful in the way his writing mixed light and dark, his fools deployed for the obvious comic relief but often it was they who proved more wise than sterner characters, revealing truths hidden to others.  Dogberry, the fool in Much Ado About Nothing (1600), is the only one in the cast with the sense to bring Don John and his comrades to justice and is an example of the use of the fool of as literary device in the Shakespearian theme of juxtaposing appearance and reality.

Dogberry's Charge to the Watch (1859), oil on canvas by Henry Stacy Marks (1829–1898).

Vain and proud of his role as Constable, at which he's demonstratively incompetent, earnestly Dogberry encourages his men to "comprehend all vagrom", by which he means “arrest all vagrants”.  Anticipating Mrs Malaprop by a hundred and seventy-five years, unlike some of the bard’s coinings, “vagrom” never entered standard English but did remain part of educated slang until late in the nineteenth century and, in that era, is documented among London police as a jocular collective noun for undesirables, vagrant or not.

Roots of the Queensland Vagrants Gaming and Other Offences Act (1931)

The first vagrancy law in the English speaking world was the English Ordinance of Labourers (1349).  A legislative response to the effects of the Black Death, it sought to increase the available workforce by making idleness (unemployment) an offence.   A vagrant was defined as a person who could work but chose not to, and having no fixed abode or lawful occupation, begged; it was punishable by branding or whipping.  Vagrants were distinguished from aged or sick, later formalised by Henry VIII's (1491–1547; King of England (and Ireland after 1541) 1509-1547) Vagabonds Act (1530) which granted a beggar’s licence those too old or otherwise incapable of working.  Vagrants continued to be dealt with harshly, punishments being more severe for a second offence and those guilty a third time subject to execution.  In an effort to encourage the industrious to dob-in malingerers, Edward VI's (1537–1553; King of England and Ireland 1547-1553) Vagabonds Act (1547) permitted, in addition to even more barbaric punishments, the vagrant could be given as a slave to the person who denounced him.  It's not known if either the governor of Texas or the state legislature looked at the 1547 act when drafting their 2021 anti-abortion legislation.

The wear & tear once associated with vagrants has become designer distress: Lindsay Lohan illustrates the tatterdemalion look.

In England, Elizabeth I (1533–1603; Queen of England & Ireland 1558-1603) revised the Vagabonds Act in 1572, retaining most punishments and adding the possibility of transportation to the American colonies, News South Wales (NSW) & Van Diemen's Land (later Tasmania) not yet available.  Execution was now possible for a second offence and any rogue charged a third time would escape death only if someone hired him to work for two years while changes to the act in 1597 banished "incorrigible and dangerous rogues" to the penal settlements overseas.  It wasn’t until 1795 that any attempt was made by the authorities to address the causes of vagrancy when a form of outdoor relief intended to mitigate rural poverty was instituted and the first recognisably modern vagrancy act was passed in 1824.  In Australia, Queensland’s Vagrants, Gaming and Other Offences Act (1931) contained elements of the 1824 English act and wasn’t repealed until 2004.  The repeal had the useful effect of it becoming lawful to wear felt slippers in hours of darkness while outside one’s place of abode.

Walmart doesn’t operate in Queensland but, had a store opened there after 2004, it would have been lawful to wear slippers when shopping.  While Queensland legislation is silent on the matter and there’s no case law, it may always have been lawful to go shopping wearing pajamas and a dressing gown so the 2004 reform seems sensible.

Tatterdemalion

Tatterdemalion (pronounced tat-er-di-meyl-yuhn or tat-er-di-mal-yuhn)

(1) A person in tattered clothing; a shabby person.

(2) Ragged; unkempt or dilapidated.

(3) In fashion, (typically as “a tatterdemalion dress” etc), garments styled deliberately frayed or with constructed tears etc (also described as “distressed” or “destroyed”).

(4) A beggar (archaic).

1600–1610: The original spelling was tatter-de-mallian (the “demalion” rhymed with “Italian” in English pronunciation), the construct thus tatter + -demalion, of uncertain origin although the nineteenth century English lexicographer Ebenezer Cobham Brewer (1810-1897) (remembered still for his marvelous Dictionary of Phrase and Fable (1894) suggested it might be from de maillot (shirt) which does seem compelling.  Rather than the source, tatter is thought to have been a back-formation from tattered, from the Middle English tatered & tatird, from the Old Norse tǫturr.  Originally, it was derived from the noun, but it was later re-analysed as a past participle (the construct being tatter +‎ -ed) and from this came the verb.  As a noun a tatter was "a shred of torn cloth or an individual item of torn and ragged clothing" while the verb implied both (as a transitive) "to destroy an article of clothing by shredding" & (as an intransitive) "to fall into tatters".

In parallel, there was also the parallel "tat", borrowed under the Raj from the Hindi टाट (ṭāṭ) (thick canvas) and in English it assumed a variety of meanings including as a clipping of tattoo, as an onomatopoeia referencing the sound made by dice when rolled on a table (and came to be used especially of a loaded die) and as an expression of disapprobation meaning “cheap and vulgar”, either in the context of low-quality goods or sleazy conduct.  The link with "tatty" in the sense of “shabby or ragged clothing” however apparently comes from tat as a clipping of the tatty, a woven mat or screen of gunny cloth made from the fibre of the Corchorus olitorius (jute plant) and noted for it loose, scruffy-looking weave.  Tatterdemalion is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is tatterdemalions.  The historic synonyms were shoddy, battered, broken, dilapidated, frayed, frazzled, moth-eaten, ragged, raggedy, ripped, ramshackle, rugged, scraggy, seedy, shabby, shaggy, threadbare, torn & unkempt and in the context of the modern fashion industry, distressed & destroyed.  An individual could also be described as a tramp, a ragamuffin, a vagabond, a vagrant, a gypsy or even a slum, some of those term reflecting class and ethnic prejudice or stereotypes.  Historically, tatterdemalion was also a name for a beggar.

A similar word in Yiddish was שמאַטע‎ (shmate or shmatte and spelled variously as schmatte, schmata, schmatta, schmate, schmutter & shmatta), from the Polish szmata, of uncertain origin but possibly from szmat (a fair amount).  In the Yiddish (and as adopted in Yinglish) it meant (1) a rag, (2) a piece of old clothing & (3) in the slang of the clothing trade, any item of clothing.  That was much more specific than the Polish szmata which meant literally "rag or old, ripped piece of cloth" but was used also figuratively to mean "publication of low journalistic standard" (ie analogous the English slang use of "rag") and in slang to refer to a woman of loose virtue (used as skank, slut et al might be used in English), a sense which transferred to colloquial use in sport to mean "simple shot", "easy goal" etc.

Designer distress: Lindsay Lohan illustrates the look.

Tatterdemalion is certainly a spectrum condition (the comparative “more tatterdemalion”; the superlative “most tatterdemalion”) and this is well illustrated by the adoption of the concept by fashionistas, modern capitalism soon there to supply the demand.  In the fashion business, tatterdemalion needs to walk a fine line because tattiness was historically associated with poverty while designers need to provide garments which convey a message wealth.  The general terms for such garments is “distressed” although “destroyed” is also used.

Dolce & Gabbana Distressed Jeans (part number FTCGGDG8ET8S9001), US$1150.

It seemed to start with denim and before distressed was a thing, manufacturers had dabbled with producing jeans which even when new gave the appearance of having been “broken in” by the wearer, the quasi-vintage look of “fade & age” achieved with processes such as stone washing, enzyme washing, acid washing, sandblasting, emerizing, and micro-sanding.  Still, this was just to create an effect, the fabrics not ripped or torn.  Distressed jeans represented the next step in the normal process of wear, fraying hems and seams, irregular fading and rips & tears now part of the aesthetic.  As an industrial process that’s not all that difficult to do but if done in the wrong way it won’t resemble exactly a pair of jeans in which the tatterdemalion is a product of gradual degradation, because different legs would have worn the denim at different places.  In the 2010s, the look spread to T-shirts and (predictably) hoodies, some manufactures going beyond vermillistude to actual authenticity, achieving the desire decorative by shooting shirts with bullets, managing a look which presumably the usual tricks of “nibbling & slashing” couldn’t quite emulate.  Warming to the idea, the Japanese label Zoo released jeans made from material torn by lions and tigers, the company anxious to mention the big cats in Tokyo Zoo seemed to "enjoy the fun".  Others emulated the working-class look, the “caked-on muddy coating: and “oil and grease smears” another (apparently short-lived) look.  All these looks had of course been seen for centuries, worn mostly by the poor with little choice but to eke a little more wear from their shabby clothes but in the 1960s, as wealth overtook Western society, the look was adopted by many with disposable income; firstly the bohemians as a display of contempt for consumerist culture and later the punk movement which needed motifs with some capacity to shock, something harder to achieve than had once been the case.

Distressed top and bottom.  Gigi Hadid in distressed T-shirt and "boyfriend" jeans.

For poets and punks, improvising the look from the stocks of thrift shops, that was fine but for designer labels selling scruffy-looking jeans for four-figure sums, it was more of a challenge, especially as the social media generation had discovered that above all they liked authenticity and faux authenticity would not do, nobody wanting to look it to look they were trying too hard.  The might have seemed a problem, given the look was inherently fake but the aesthetic didn’t matter for its own sake, all that had to be denoted was “conspicuous consumption” (the excessive spending on wasteful goods as proof of wealth) and the juxtaposition of thousand dollar distressed jeans with the odd expensive accessory, achieved that and more, the discontinuities offering irony as a look.  The labels, the prominence of which remained a focus was enough for the message to work although one does wonder if any of the majors have been tempted to print a QR code on the back pocket, linked to the RRP (recommended retail price) because, what people are really trying to say is “My jeans cost US$1200”.

1962 AC Shelby Cobra (CSX2000), interior detail, 2016.

The value of selective scruffiness is well known in other fields.  When selling a car a tatty interior will usually greatly depress the price (sometimes by more even than the cost of rectification).  However, if the tattiness is of some historic significance, it can add to car’s value, the best example being if the deterioration is part of the vehicles provenance and proof of originality, a prized attribute to the segment of the collector market known as the “originally police”.  In 2016, the very first AC Shelby Cobra (CSX 2000) sold for US$13.75 million, becoming the most expensive American car sold at auction.  Built in 1962, it was shipped to the US as an AC Ace (without an engine although it apparently wasn't AC's original "proof-of-concept" test bed which was fitted with one of the short-lived 221 cubic inch (3.6 litre) versions of Ford's new "thin-wall" Windsor V8) where the Shelby operation installed a 260 cubic inch (4.2 litre) Windsor and the rest is history.  The tatterdemalion state of the interior was advertised as one of the features of the car, confirming its status as “an untouched survivor”.  Among Cobra collectors, wear caused by Carroll Shelby's (1923–2012) butt is the most valuable tatterdemalion.

Just a scratch: Juan Manuel Fangio, Mercedes-Benz W196 Streamliner, British Grand Prix, Silverstone, 1954.

Also recommended to be repaired before sale are dents, anything battered unlikely to attract a premium.  However, if a dent was put there by a Formula One world champion, it becomes a historic artefact.  In 1954, Mercedes-Benz astounded all when their new grand prix car (the W196R) appeared with all-enveloping bodywork, allowed because of a since closed loophole in the rule-book.  The sensuous shape made the rest of the field look antiquated although underneath it was a curious mix of old and new, the fuel-injection and desmodromic valve train representing cutting edge technology while the swing axles and drum brakes spoke to the past and present, the engineers’ beloved straight-eight configuration definitely the end of an era.  On fast tracks like Monza, the aerodynamic bodywork delivered great speed and stability but the limitations were exposed when the team fielded “the streamliner” at tighter circuits and in the 1954 British Grand Prix at Silverstone, Juan Manuel Fangio (1911–1995; winner of five world-championships) managed to clout a couple of oil-drums (that how track safety was then done in F1) because it was so much harder to determine the extremities without being able to see the front wheels.  Quickly, the factory concocted a functional (though visually unremarkable) open-wheel version and the sleek original was thereafter used only on the circuits where the highest speeds were achieved.  In 1954, the factory wasn’t concerned with maintaining originality and repaired the tatterdemalion W196 so an artefact was lost.

1966 Ferrari 330 GTC (1966-1968) restored by Bell Sport & Classic.  Many restored Ferraris of the pre-1973 era are finished to a much higher standard than when they left the showroom.  Despite this, genuine, original "survivors" (warts and all) are sought after in some circles.

In the collector car industry, tatterdemalion is definitely a spectrum condition and for decades the matter of patina versus perfection has been debated.  There was once the idea that in Europe the preference was for a vehicle to appear naturally aged ( well-maintained but showing the wear of decades) while the US market leaned towards cars restored to the point of being as good (or better) than they were on the showroom floor.  Social anthropologists might have some fun exploring that perception of difference and it was certainly never a universal rule but the debate continues, as does the argument about “improving” on the original.  Some of the most fancied machinery of the 1950s and 1960s (notably Jaguars, Ferraris and Maseratis) is now a staple of the restoration business but, although when new the machines looked gorgeous, it wasn’t necessary to dig too deep to find often shoddy standards of finish, the practice at the time something like sweeping the dirt “under the rug”.  When "restored" many of these cars are re=built to a higher standard, what was often left rough now smoothed to perfection.  That’s what some customers want and the finest restoration shops can do either and there are questions about whether what might be described as “fake patina” is quite the done thing.  Mechanics and engineers who were part of building Ferraris in the 1960s, upon looking at some immaculately “restored” cars have been known wryly to remark: “that wasn't how we built them then.” 

Gucci offered Distressed Tights at US$190 (for a pair so quite good value).  Rapidly, they sold-out.

The fake patina business however goes back quite a way.  Among antique dealers, it’s now a definite niche but from the point at which the industrial revolution began to create a new moneyed class of mine and factory owners, there was a subset of the new money (and there are cynics who suggest it was mostly at the prodding of their wives) who wished to seem more like old money and a trend began to seek out “aged” furniture with which a man might deck out his (newly acquired) house to look as if things had been in the family for generations.  The notoriously snobbish (and amusing diarist) Alan Clark (1928–1999) once referred to someone as looking like “they had to buy their own chairs”, prompting one aristocrat to respond: “That’s a bit much from someone whose father (the art historian and life peer Kenneth Clark (1903–1983)) had to buy his own castle.”  The old money were of course snooty about the folk David Lloyd George (1863–1945; UK prime-minister 1916-1922) would call “jumped-up grocers”.