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.

Quadraphonic

Quadraphonic (pronounced kwod-ruh-fon-ik)

(1) Of, noting, or pertaining to the recording and reproduction of sound over four separate transmission or direct reproduction channels instead of the customary two of the stereo system.

(2) A quadraphonic recording.

(3) A class of enhanced stereophonic music equipment developed in the 1960s.

1969: An irregular formation of quadra, a variant (like quadru) from the older Latin form quadri- (four) + phonic from the Ancient Greek phonē (sound, voice).  All the Latin forms were related quattor (four) from the primitive Indo-European kwetwer (four).  Phonē was from the primitive Indo-European bha (to speak, tell, say) which was the source also of the Latin fari (to speak) and fama (talk, report).  Phonic, as an adjective in the sense of “pertaining to sound; acoustics" was used in English as early as 1793. Those for whom linguistic hygiene is a thing approved not at all of quadraphonic because it was a hybrid built from Latin and Greek.  They preferred either the generic surround sound which emerged later or the pure Latin lineage of quadrasonic (sonic from sonō (make a noise, sound)) which appeared as early as 1970 although it seems to have been invented as a marketing term rather than by disgruntled pedants.  Quadraphonic, quadrasonic and surround sound all refer to essentially the same thing: the reproduction of front-to-back sound distribution in addition to side-to-side stereo.  In live performances, this had been done for centuries and four-channel recording, though not mainstream, was by the 1950s, not uncommon.  Quadraphonic is and adjective but had been used as a noun; the (equally irregular) noun plural is quadraphonics.

Surround sound

Quadraphonic was an early attempt to mass-market surround sound.  It used four sound channels with four physical speakers intended to be positioned at the four corners of the listening space and each channel could reproduce a signal, in whole or in part, independent of the others.  It was briefly popular with manufacturers during the early 1970s, many of which attempted to position it as the successor to stereo as the default standard but consumers were never convinced and quadraphonic was a commercial failure, both because of technical issues and the multitude of implementations and incompatibilities between systems; many manufacturers built equipment to their own specifications and no standard was defined, a mistake not repeated a generation later with the CD (compact disc).  Nor was quadraphonic a bolt-on to existing equipment; it required new, more expensive hardware.

Quadraphonic audio reproduction from vinyl was patchy and manufacturers used different systems to work around the problems but few were successful and the physical wear of vinyl tended always to diminish the quality.  Tape systems also existed, capable of playing four or eight discrete channels and released in reel-to-reel and 8-track cartridge formats, the former more robust but never suited to the needs of mass-market consumers.  The rise of home theatre products in the late 1990s resurrected interest in multi-channel audio, now called “surround sound” and most often implemented in the six speaker 5.1 standard.  Modern electronics and the elimination of vinyl and tape as storage media allowed engineers to solve the problems which beset quadraphonic but there remain audiophiles who insist, under perfect conditions, quadraphonic remains the superior form of audio transmission for the human ear.

Highway Hi-Fi record player in 1956 Dodge.

First commercially available in 1965, the eight-track cartridge format (which would later become the evil henchman of quadraphonic) convinced manufacturers it was the next big thing and they rushed to mass-production and one genuine reason for the appeal was that the 8-track cartridge was the first device which was practical for use as in-car entertainment.  During the 1950s, the US car industry had offered the option of record players, neatly integrated into the dashboard and in the relatively compact space of a vehicle's interior, the sound quality could be surprisingly high.  Although not obviously designed with acoustic properties optimized for music, the combination of parallel flat surfaces, a low ceiling and much soft, sound absorbing material did much to compensate for the small size and range offered by the speakers.  However, although they worked well when sitting still in showroom or in certain vehicles, on the road things could be different.  The records (the same size as the classic 7 inch (180 mm) 45 rpm "singles") played by means of a stylus (usually called "the needle") which physically traced the grooves etched into the plastic disks rotating at 16.66 rpm which, combined with an etching technique called "ultra micro-grooving" meant the some 45 minutes of music were available, a considerable advance on the 4-5 minutes of the standard single.  The pressings were also thicker than other records, better to resist the high temperatures caused by heat-soak from the engine and the environment although, in places like Arizona, warping was soon reported.  To keep the stylus in the track, the units were fitted with a shock-absorbing, spring enclosure and a counterweighted needle arm.  Improbably, in testing, the system performed faultlessly even under the most adverse road conditions so the designers presented the product for corporate approval.  At that point there was a delay because the designers worked for the Colombia Broadcasting Corporation (CBS) which had affiliations with thousands of radio stations all over the country and no wish to cannibalize their own markets; if people could play records in their cars, the huge income stream CBS gained from advertising would be threatened as drivers tuned out.  The proposal was rejected.

Highway Hi-Fi record player in 1956 Plymouth.

Discouraged but not deterred, the engineers went to Detroit and demonstrated the players to Chrysler which had their test-drivers subject the test vehicles to pot-holes, railway tracks and rolling undulations.  The players again performed faultlessly and Chrysler, always looking for some novelty, placed an order for 18,000, a lucrative lure which convinced even CBS to authorize production, their enthusiasm made all the greater by the proprietary format of the disks which meant CBS would be the exclusive source.  So, late in 1956, Chrysler announced the option of "Highway Hi-Fi", a factory-installed record player mounted under the car's dashboard at a cost of (US$200 (some US$1750 in 2023 terms)).  Highway Hi-Fi came with six disks, the content of which reflected the reactionary tastes of CBS executives and their desire to ensure people still got their popular music from radio stations but the market response was positive, Chrysler selling almost 4000 of the things in their first year, the early adopters adopting with their usual alacrity.

The second generation of players used standard 45 rpm singles: Austin A55 Farina (left) and George Harrison's (1943–2001) Jaguar E-Type S1 (right); all four Beatles had the players fitted in their cars and lead guitarist Harrison is pictured here stocking his 14-stack array.  The lady on the left presumably listened to different music than the Beatle on the right (although their in-car hardware was identical) but tastes can't always be predicted according to stereotype; although he disapproved of most modern music, Rudolf Hess (1894–1987; Nazi deputy Führer 1933-1941) told the governor of Spandau prison (where he spent 40 of his 46 years in captivity) he enjoyed The Beatles because their tunes "were melodic".  

At that point, problems surfaced.  Tested exclusively in softly-sprung, luxury cars on CBS's and Chrysler's executive fleets, the Highway Hi-Fi had to some extent been isolated from the vicissitudes of the road but when fitted to cheaper models with nothing like the same degree of isolation, the styluses indeed jumped around and complaints flowed, something not helped by dealers and mechanics not being trained in their maintenance; even to audio shops the unique mechanism was a mystery.  Word spread, sales collapsed and quietly the the option was withdrawn in 1957.  The idea however didn't die and by the early 1960s, others had entered the field and solved most of the problems, disks now upside-down which made maintaining contact simpler and now standard 45 rpm records could be used, meaning unlimited content and the inherent limitation of the 4 minute playing time was overcome with the use of a 14-disk stacker, anticipating the approach taken with CDs three decades later.  Chrysler tried again by the market was now wary and the option was again soon dropped.

1966 Ford Mustang with factory-fitted 8-track player.

Clearly though, there was demand for in-car entertainment, the content of which was not dictated by radio station programme directors and for many there were the additional attractions of not having to endure listening either to advertising or DJs, as inane then as now.  It was obvious to all tape offered possibilities but although magnetic tape recorders had appeared as early as 1930s, they were bulky, fragile complicated and expensive, all factors which mitigated against their use as a consumer product fitted to a car.  Attention was thus devoted to reducing size and complexity so the tape could be installed in a removable cartridge and by 1963, a consortium including, inter alia, Lear, RCA, Ford & Ampex had perfected 8-track tape which was small, simple, durable and able to store over an hour of music.  Indeed, so good was the standard of reproduction that to take advantage of it, it had to be connected to high quality speakers with wiring just as good, something which limited the initial adoption to manufacturers such as Rolls-Royce and Cadillac or the more expensive ranges of others although Ford's supporting gesture late in 1965 of offering the option on all models was soon emulated.  Economies of scale soon worked its usual wonders and the 8-track player became an industry standard, available even in cheaper models and as an after-market accessory, some speculating the format might replace LP records in the home.

Lindsay Lohan's A Little More Personal (Raw) as it would have appeared if released in the 8-Track format.

That never happened although the home units were widely available and by the late 1960s, the 8-track was a big seller for all purposes where portability was needed.  It maintained this position until the early 1970s when, with remarkable suddenness, it was supplanted the the cassette, a design dating from 1962 which had been smaller and cheaper but also inferior in sound delivery and without the broad content offered by the 8-track supply system.  That all changed by 1970 and from that point the 8-track was in decline, reduced to a niche by late in the decade, the CD in the 1980s the final nail in the coffin although it did for a while retain an allure, Jensen specifying an expensive Lear 8-track for the Interceptor SP in 1971, despite consumer reports at the time confirming cassettes were now a better choice.  The market preferring the cheaper and conveniently smaller cassette tapes meant warehouses were soon full of 8-track players and buyers were scarce.  In Australia, GMH (General Motor Holden) by 1975 had nearly a thousand in the inventory which also bulged with 600-odd Monaro body-shells, neither of which were attracting customers.  Fortunately, GMH was well-acquainted with the concept of the "parts-bin special" whereby old, unsaleable items are bundled together and sold at what appears a discount, based for advertising purposes on a book-value retail price there’s no longer any chance of realizing.

1976 Holden HX LE

Thus created was the high-priced, limited edition Holden LE (not badged as a Monaro although it so obviously looked like one that they've never been known as anything else), in "LE Red" (metallic crimson) with gold pin-striping, Polycast "Honeycomb" wheels, fake (plastic) burl walnut trim, deep cut-pile (polyester) carpet and crushed velour (polyester) upholstery with plaid inserts over vinyl surrounds in matching shades; in the 1970s, this was tasteful.  Not exactly suited to the image of luxury were the front and rear spoilers but they too were sitting unloved in the warehouse so they became part of the package and, this being the 1970s, rear-seat occupants got their own cigar lighter, conveniently located above the central ashtray.  Not designed for the purpose, the eight-track cartridge player crudely was bolted to the console but the audio quality was good and five-hundred and eighty LEs were made, GMH pleasantly surprised at how quickly they sold.  When new, they listed at Aus$11,500, a pleasingly profitable premium of some 35% above the unwanted vehicle on which it was based.  These days, examples are advertised for sale for (Aus$) six-figure sums but those who now buy a LE do so for reasons other than specific-performance.  Although of compact size (in US terms) and fitted with a 308 cubic inch (5.0 litre) V8, it could achieve barely 110 mph (175 km/h), acceleration was lethargic by earlier and (much) later standards yet fuel consumption was very high; slow and thirsty the price to be paid for the early implementations of the emission control devices bolted to engines designed during more toxic times.

1976 Holden HX LE Polycast "Honeycomb" wheel (14 x 7").

The Polycast process used a conventional steel wheel with a decorative face of molded polyurethane, attached with mechanical fasteners or bonded using adhesives (in some, both methods were applied) and although some snobs still call them "fake alloy" wheels, legitimately, they're a category of their own.  Because the rubbery, molded plastic fulfilled no structural purpose, designers were able to create intricate shapes which would then have been too delicate or complex to render (at an acceptable cost) in any sort of metal.  By consensus, some of the Ploycast wheels were among the best looking of the decade and, unstressed, they were strong, durable and long-lasting while the manufacturers liked them because the tooling and production costs were much lower than for aluminium or magnesium-alloy.  Another benefit was, being purely decorative (essentially a permanently attached wheelcover), their use faced no regulatory barriers; US safety rules were even then strict and Citroën at the time didn't both seeking approval for the more exotic "resin" wheels offered in Europe on the SM).

Aftermath of the pace car crash, Indianapolis 500, 29 May 1971; dozens were injured but there were no fatalities, despite impact with the well-populated camera stand being estimated at 60 mph (100 km/h).

The Holden LE's wheels came straight from the Pontiac parts bin in the US where they'd first appeared on the 1971 Firebird Trans-Am.  The concept proved popular with manufacturers and a set of Motor Wheels' "Exiter" (14" x 7", part number 36830 and advertised also as "Exciter") was fitted to the Dodge Challenger Pace car which crashed during the 1971 Indianapolis 500.  The crash was unrelated to the wheels, the driver (one of the Dodge dealers providing the pace car fleet) blaming the incident on somebody moving the traffic cone he'd used in practice as his pit-lane braking marker.    Motor Wheel's advertising copy: “What wheel can survive this beating?” and “...the new wheel too tough for the 'mean machine'” predated the crash at Indianapolis and was intended to emphasise the strength of the method of construction.

Twenty years on, the “parts bin special” idea was a part of local story-telling.  Although most doubt the tale, it's commonly recounted the 85 HSV VS GTS-R Commodores Holden built in 1996 were all finished in the same shade of yellow because of a cancelled order for that number of cars in "taxi spec", the Victorian government having mandated that color for the state's cabs.  While a pleasing industry myth, most suspect it's one of those coincidences and the government's announcement came after the bodies for the GTS-R had already been painted.  Being "taxi yellow" doesn't appear to have deterred demand and examples now sell for well into six figures (in Aus$).      

1971 Holden HQ Monaro LS 350

The overwrought and bling-laden Holden LE typified the tendency during the 1970s and of US manufacturers and their colonial off-shoots to take an elegant design and, with a heavy-handed re-style, distort it into something ugly.  A preview of the later “malaise era”, it was rare for a facelift to improve the original.  The HQ Holden (1971-1974) was admired for an delicacy of line and fine detailing; what followed over three subsequent generations lacked that restraint although to be fair, while the last of the series (HZ, 1977-1980) ascetically wasn't as pleasing as the first, dynamically, it was much-improved.

In English, malaise was an unadapted loanword from the French malaise (ill ease), the construct being mal- (bad, badly) + aise (ease).  It was used to describe (1) a feeling of general bodily discomfort, fatigue or unpleasantness (sometimes associated with the onset of illness), (2) an ambiguous feeling of mental or moral depression (the sense tending more to “melancholy” than “angst”) and (3) ill will or hurtful feelings for others.  The US cars of the years between 1974-1984 (some say it went on a bit longer) came to be called “malaise era” cars, the name from the thoughtful but perhaps unfortunate “Crisis of Confidence” address Jimmy Carter (1924-2024; US president 1977-1981) delivered in July 1979.  Carter’s years of malaise remains emblematic the America of the late 1970s (a time of stagflation, oil-shock induced energy price-rises & shortages, high interest rates and general gloom) but the details have become blurred.  The use of the word “malaise” emerged from a retreat the president had convened at the Camp David retreat after concluding neither he, his advisors or the entire machinery of government could come up with solution to the nation’s many problems.  Attended by notables from the clergy, academia and other realms including the governor of Arkansas, BillClinton (b 1946; US president 1993-2001), the curious event prompted one historian to describe it as “…the most remarkable exercise in presidential navel-gazing in American history…” but what did lodge in Carter’s memory was an observation by the pollster Patrick Caddell (1950–2019) that after some fifteen years of trauma including assassinations, race riots, the war in Vietnam and Watergate, the nation was experiencing a “malaise” and the president decided this notion would be the centrepiece of his address to the people.

Malaise: 1978 Ford Mustang II King Cobra.

An emblematic malaise era machine, twenty-first century viewers would be surprised to learn it was possible for a relatively small, light car with a 302 cubic inch (4.9 litre) V8 to deliver such anaemic performance.  However, the Mustang II (1973-1978) was the the right car for the right car (debuting some weeks before the first oil shock) and was a great success.

The word “malaise” wasn’t included in the text of Carter’s speech but, replete with phrases like “…strikes at the very heart and soul and spirit of our national will…” & “…crisis of confidence…”, the tone was clear and almost universally the press called it the “malaise speech”.  Despite what has long been the popular perception, at the time the speech was not a political disaster and was well-received, Carter’s approval ratings surging; it was only as the year unfolded he came to be damned by his own words and if any single term is now associated with his unhappy single term, it's “malaise”.  As was customary for presidential addresses of this nature, the speech was nationally televised live by the three major commercial networks (ABC (American Broadcasting Company), CBS (Columbia Broadcasting System) & NBC (National Broadcasting Company)) and simultaneously broadcast by many radio stations, the total audience estimated at some 65 million (there was then no FoxNews but it's not difficult to predict what the nature of that commentary would have been).  Given the coverage, it’s certain the address contributed greatly to the eventual public disillusionment with the president and may thus have been an example of videomalaise (a term from late 1990s political science which linked voters’ decreasing trust in politicians with depictions of the latter on televised news).

Honorable exception: 1973 Pontiac Firebird Trans-Am SD-455.

Available only on the Firebird (Formula or Trans-AM) in 1973 & 1974, the SD-455 was one of the few bright spots of the malaise era although it did need slightly to be detuned for commercial release, its original 310 (HP) horsepower configuration able to pass the EPA's (Environmental Protection Authority) emission tests only if a devious "cheater" device was installed (shades of Volkswagen's later "dieselgate" although Pontiac got off with nothing more than a "slap on the wrist" rather than the billions it cost the equally guilty Germans).  The production version was rated at 290 HP which was still enough to make it the powerful US car of its time.

The "malaise era" cars were so named because compared with the previous generations, they were heavier, slower, thirstier and less pleasant to drive, a collection of characteristics which weren't the fault of President Carter but he had the misfortune to be in the White House at the same time.  They were of course safer and less polluting but those advantages were hidden while the ugliness of the battering-ram bumper-bars, reduced power and sometimes tiresome driving characteristics were obvious.  When speaking of these mostly unlamented machines, the phrase “Malaise Era” is believed to have been coined by writer Murilee Martin (the pen name of Phil Greden) who used it first in 2007 on the website Jalopnik.   

1973 Ford Falcon XA GT Hardtop (RPO83).

In the era of the Holden LE, Ford Australia had it's own problem with unwanted two-door bodyshells.  Released too late to take advantage of what proved a market fad, Ford’s Falcon Hardtops (XA; 1972-1973, XB; 1973-1976 & XC; 1976-1979) never enjoyed the success of Holden’s Monaro (1968-1976), Chrysler’s Valiant Charger (1971-1978) or even that of Ford’s own, earlier Falcon Hardtop (XM; 1964-1965 & XP; 1965-1966).  The public’s increasing and unpredicted uninterest in the style meant that by 1976, like Holden, Ford had languishing in unwanted in their hands hundreds of body-shells for the big (in Australian terms although in the US they would have been classed “compacts”) coupés.  When released in 1972 Ford’s expectation was it would every year sell more than 10,000 Hardtops but that proved wildly optimistic and not even discounting and some “special editions” did much to stimulate demand.  By 1977 sales had dropped to a depressing 913 and with over 500 bodies in stock, the projection no more than 100 would attract buyers meant a surplus of 400; an embarrassing mistake.

Edsel Ford II with Falcon Cobra #001, publicity shot, Ford Australia's Head Office, Campbellfield, Victoria.  The badge below the Cobra decal reads 5.8; Australia switched to the metric system in 1973 but because of the nature of the machines, almost always the V8s are described either as 302 (4.9) or 351 (5.8), cubic inches being a muscle car motif. 

Scrapping them all had been discussed but in Australia at the time was Edsel Ford II (b 1948), great-grandson of Henry Ford (1863-1947), grandson of Edsel Ford (1893–1943) and the only son of Henry Ford II (1917–1987).  The scion had been sent to southern outpost to learn the family business and been appointed assistant managing director of Ford Australia; his solution profitably to shift the surplus hardtops was hardly original but, like many sequels, it worked.  What Edsel Ford suggested was to use the same approach which in 1976 had been such a success when applied in the US to the Mustang II (1973-1978): Create a dress-up package with the motifs of the original Shelby Mustangs (1965-1968), the most distinctive of which were the pair of broad, blue stripes running the vehicle’s full length.  In truth, the stripes had been merely an option on the early Shelby Mustangs but so emblematic of the breed did they become it’s now rare to see one un-striped.  The blinged-up Mustang IIs had been dubbed “Cobra II” and although mechanically unchanged, proved very popular.  One (unverified) story which is part of industry folklore claims the American’s suggestion was initially rejected by local management and discarded before a letter arrived from Ford’s Detroit head office telling the colonials that if Edsel Ford II wanted a Falcon Cobra with stripes, it must be done.  As Edsel's father once told a Lee Iacocca (1924–2019) who seemed to be getting ideas above his station: "Don't forget my name is on the building". 

Falcon Cobra #31.  The rear-facing bonnet (hood) scoop was the most obvious visual clue identifying the Option 97 (#002-031) cars although the after market responded and it became possible to buy replica scoops as well as the decals and plaques for those who wanted their own "Cobra look".

The Australian cars thus came to be “Cobra” and as well as providing a path to monetizing what had come to be seen as dead stock, the cars would also be a platform with which Ford could homologate some parts for use in racing.  The latter task was easy because in November 1977 Ford had built 13 “special order” XC Hardtops which conformed with the “evolution” rules of the Confederation of Australian Motor Sport (CAMS, then the regulatory body) for homologating parts for Group C touring car events.  Cognizant of the furore which had erupted in 1972 when high-output engines were homologated in road cars, the changes were mostly about durability and included enlarged rear wheel wells to accommodate wider wheels and tyres, a reverse hood (bonnet) scoop which drew desirable cool-air from the low-pressure area at the base of the windscreen, twin electric fans (switchable from the cockpit) which replaced the power-sapping engine-driven fan, a front tower brace (K-brace) which stiffened the body structure, an idler arm brace and front and rear spoilers.

Falcon Cobra #094 which was one of the "fully optioned" of the Option 96 build (#081-200 including the 351 V8, air-conditioning, power steering & power windows).

A prototype Falcon Cobra was built in April 1978 with production beginning the following July.  Unusually, all were originally painted Bold Blue before the areas which would become the stripes and the sill & wheel-arch highlights was masked with a coating of Sno White was painted over the top (thin Olympic (Blaze) Blue accent stripes separated the colors and “Cobra” decals were fitted to the sides and rear).  Each of the 400 built was fitted with a sequentially numbered plaque (001 to 400) on the dash and the production breakdown was:

#001: Created for promotional use, it was allocated for the photo-sessions from which came the images used in the first brochures (351 automatic).

#002-031: The Option 97 run which contained the parts and modifications intended for competition and produced in conformity with CAMS’s “evolution” rules (351 manual).

#032-041: 351 manual with air-conditioning (A/C) & power steering (P/S).

#042-080: 351 manual with A/C, P/S & power windows (P/W).

#081-200: 351 automatic with A/C, P/S & P/W.

#201-300: 302 manual.

#301-360 (except 351): 302 automatic with A/C & P/S.

#351: 351 manual.

#361-400: 302 automatic with A/C, P/S & P/W.

Moffat Ford Dealers team cars in the Hardie-Ferodo 1000 at Bathurst, finishing 1-2 in 1977 (left) and on the opening lap in 1978 (right).  In 1978, the cars (actually 1976 XB models modified to resemble XCs) matched their 1977 qualifying pace by starting second & third on the grid but in the race both recorded a DNF (did not finish). 

The Option 97 run (#002-031) included the modifications fitted to the 13 cars built in November 1997 but also included was engine & transmission oil coolers, a tramp rod (fitted only to the left-side because most racing in Australia is on anti-clockwise circuits and most turns thus to the left) and a special front spoiler which directed cooling air to the front brakes.  Visually, the Option 97 run was differentiated from the rest by the (functional) bonnet scoop and a pair of Scheel front bucket seats (part number KBA90018) in black corduroy cloth. Collectively, the 370 Option 96 and 30 Option 97 made up the 400 SVP (Special Value Pack) that was the Falcon Cobra.  The Cobra’s blue & white livery appeared on the race tracks in 1978 but the best known (the pair run by Allan Moffat's (v 1939) “Moffat Ford Dealers” team were actually modified XB Hardtops built in 1976 and the same vehicles which had completed the photogenic 1-2 at Bathurst in 1977.