Flookerang & Fratzog

Flookerang (pronounced flook–ah-rang)

A corporate logo adopted in 1957 by Chrysler Corporation for use in promoting the dramatically restyled versions of the company’s “Forward Look” designs (1955-1956).

1957: The construct was flook + (boom)erang.  Now mostly obsolete, flook was an alternative spelling of fluke (in the sense of “blade at the end of an anchor”).  In wide nautical use, flook (fluke) was used of any of the triangular blades at an anchor’s end, the appendages there to “catch” on the seabed or riverbed, keeping the vessel moored in position (ie not drifting away with the tide).  In armaments design, the flook was a metal hook that appeared close to the tip of many staff weapons (such as a bill) with the effect in combat depending on use; if thrust, could be penetrative (armor or flesh as need be) while if swung it could work as a “grappling hook”.  Fluke & flook are old words, documented since at least the tenth century although, anchors, staff weapons, arrowheads and such having by then been in use for millennia, the forms may well be more ancient.  The origin was the Middle English flok, fluke & flewke, from the Old English flōcand and cognate with the Old Norse flōki; it may be compared with the Old High German flah (flat (source of the modern German flach)), from the Proto-Germanic flakaz although for technical reasons related to the phonetics, etymologists seem to prefer a link with the Middle Low German vlögel (wing) and the Germanic vlōch & vlucht (used in the sense of both “wing” & “flight”) or even vlunke (the modern Low German Flunk (wing, pinion)).  The modern use in German of fluke to describe the tail of whales and such is thought borrowed from English.  The use of sea creatures came from the Old English flōc (flatfish), of Germanic origin, related to the German flach (flat), the Old Saxon flaka (sole), the Old High German flah (smooth) and the Old Norse floke (flatfish, flounder, flak, floe; disk), all ultimately from Proto-Germanic flakaz, from the primitive Indo European root plak- (to be flat).  The parasitic worm was so named in the 1660s by virtue of the distinctive (flat) shape.

A Flookerang: Chrysler corporation brochure, 1958.

In general use, “fluke” has become familiar as the description of the two lobes of the tails of whales (or similar creatures) and whales “fluking” their tails (appearing above the surface just as a deep dive is about to begin) have long been an Instagram staple; once hunted close to extinction for their meat and oil, the charismatic beasts are now among nature’s most prolific content providers although their flukes do occasionally suffer the indignity of being labelled “fishtails”.  Being mammals, they belong to the order Cetacea and are within the zoological class Mammalia, not Pisces.  Interestingly, although “fluke” & “flook” were historically used of the barbed projections added to some arrowheads, the terms seemed to have vanished from modern specialist terminology, replaced by “barbed arrowhead”, the two projections (pointing backwards towards the shaft) designed to resist withdrawal after penetration (and doing victim much damaged during the extraction).  The link with (in this case unfortunate) whales is that the biggest of the barbs were on the biggest of the arrows (the harpoons on whaling ships).  The variant in Scots English was fluik, known to be in use by at least the early seventeenth century.  The way use evolved differently in specialist vocabularies does make sense with nautical jargon retaining fluke or flook for an anchor's broad, seabed-catching blades while in archery, the industry settled on “barb”, presumably because the purpose of the structures mirrored the natural world, barbs in animals and plants doing much the same job.  Boomerang entered English texts only in 1827 and was from būmariny (missile weapon used by Australian Aborigines (a historic term for the native tribes in the continent of Australia, now generally classified as “indigenous” or “first nations” peoples)), the recorded phonetic form of a word in one of the now extinct languages spoken by the Dharuk people native to an area in what is now NSW (New South Wales) and known to geographers as the Sydney Basin.  A word pronounced as wo-mur-rang was noted in NSW in 1798 and it may have been related but there’s no documentary evidence.  Flookerang is a noun, Fratzonic is an adjective and Fratzonically is an adverb; the noun plural is Flookerangs.

1957 Chrysler brochure with Flookerang.  While the 1957 cars were (for better and worse) immensely influential, Virgil's real masterpiece was the 1955-1956 “Forward Look”; frankly, there he should have paused for a few seasons.

Although the The Flookerang can best be described as a pair of stylized boomerangs, one with an especially acute angle overlaid atop another in a more conventional shape and it can be assumed Chrysler used flook in the sense of the appendages on weapons rather than the homophonic fluke’s sense of (1) a lucky or improbable occurrence unlikely to be repeated or (2) to by pure chance obtain a successful outcome (although, in retrospect, there was an element of both in the corporation’s 1957 ranges).  The shape obviously was abstract and did not represent one of Chrysler’s manufacturing divisions (in 1957: Plymouth, Dodge, DeSoto, Chrysler & Imperial) or a specific model or range.  It was instead a mid-century modernist allusion to the latest version of the company’s “Forward Look” design, introduced for the 1955 season and styled by Virgil Exner (1909–1973; vice president of styling, Chrysler Corporation 1957-1962).  The 1955-1956 Chryslers were for the corporation a watershed because although the mechanical engineering had always been sound (in some ways, often industry-leading), by the late 1940s the styling of the cars had become “frumpy”, a product of the design ethos of Kaufman Thuma “K.T.” Keller (1885–1966; president of Chrysler Corporation 1935-1950 and chairman of the board 1950-1956) who believed a car should be able to be “driven by a gentleman with his fedora or Stetson on”.  This resulted in cars that were tall & boxy; while comfortable to sit inside and drive, they looked old-fashioned and out of step with styling trends from Europe or elsewhere in Detroit.  Basic engineering was the message (“function over fashion” in the modern parlance) and although there were critics of the approach (including many within Chrysler), Keller was unmoved, quoted as saying that while none of the corporation’s cars would: “…knock your eyes out, neither will they knock your hat off as you enter or exit”.  He also had earthier ways of explaining his philosophy.

Flookerang variations: 1958 Plymouth Fury (left), 1961 Dodge Dart Phoenix (centre) and 1961 Plymouth Fury (right).

Trouble was, in the unexpectedly prosperous US of the early 1950s, folk were becoming more interested in style and less in their hats and when Exner’s “Ford Look” appeared late in 1954, buyers responded to “longer, lower, wider” as predictably they would for most of the next two decades.  The lines were elegant, the dimensions well proportioned and, at least in the more expensive versions, there was nicely detailing and it was a direction the industry could have taken but the US of the mid 1950s had become something of a candy-store and there were lots of kids with pocket money; prosperity begat excess.  Exner’s 1957 range more than any was the one that ushered in mass-market fins and a half-decade of bloat in the American automobile; in retrospect, it was “the curse of plenty”.

Exner's masterpieces: 1955 Chrysler C-300 (left) and 1957 Imperial Crown Southampton (right).

Still, the macropterous era was among the most memorable era in an industry that’s had a few and, if excess there must be, it should be “laid on with a trowel”; that Exner’s re-styling for 1957 did but within a couple of seasons, compared with the ways GM (General Motors) outposts like Buick and Cadillac would explore the theme, the 1957 Chryslers appeared (almost) restrained.  By contrast with the extravagance seen on the cars the emblem was created to promote, the Flookerang was subtle, the overlaid shapes denoting (1) rapid forward progress and (2) the sweep of those big fins rearward.  As a conceptual link it was one of the more successful of its kind but, unfortunately, the species it referenced soon went extinct.  Chrysler in 1957 had announced the look in banner headlines reading “Suddenly, it’s 1960” and, in a period when the “futuristic” was everywhere in films, newspapers and fiction, the cars did seem to offer a glimpse of a bright, shiny new world.  The problem was however that once on the path of excess there is nowhere to go but “more excessive” and that’s what happened; by the time it really was “1960”, the moment had passed and the fins soon would be pruned, Exner fired (actually relegated to a face-saving consultancy) with the Flookerang in 1961 (mostly) abandoned, replaced by the mysterious Fratzog.

Flookercharger.

Chrysler’s use of the Flookerang was inconsistent, both in variations in shape and placement on vehicles, on some models appearing one season, vanishing the next, only to re-appear for an encore, perhaps explaining why it never really became culturally embedded as a symbol, its relatively short life contributing also.  It must though have appealed to at least one custom-builder who blended the tail-fins of a 1960 Plymouth Fury with a 1966 Dodge Charger, the Flookerangs left in place despite the tendency of those crafting such things to remove “extraneous detailing”.  The styling of the 1966-1967 Chargers was received with restrained enthusiasm (although, once a small spoiler had been added to the trunk (boot) lid to tame the “lift” encountered at high speed, the fastback lines proved aerodynamically efficient on the NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) ovals) but few would have suggested grafting on a 1960 Fury’s fins would have improved the aesthetics.  That was however done by one visionary soul who didn’t stop at what clearly was thought a callipygous optimization, a 1967 interior used with the dashboard modified to house a remarkable 19 gauges, the four electroluminescent pods on the driver’s side matched by a symmetrical quartet to the right.  The engine was a 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8 that may have been original although it included a Sonoramic cross ram induction system (most photogenic but never offered by the factory with the 440); the transmission a TorqueFlite 727 Automatic.  Given the configuration, adding five hood scoops seemed appropriate and the steering wheel boss retained its original Fratzog.  Unfortunately, the unique machine was damaged in a garage fire (one unkind comment on a Mopar site suggesting it may have attracted “the wrath of God”) and its fate is unknown.

Fratzog (pronounced frat-zog)

A corporate logo since 1961 used from time to time by Chrysler Corporation (and of late revived by Stellantis, the multi-national automotive manufacturing concern into which Fiat-Chrysler was in 2021 absorbed).

1960: According to industry legend, a wholly meaningless word made up on the spur of the moment by the shape’s designer.  If the designer (whose name remains unknown) had some inspiration for their choice, it seems never to have been documented but frequently it’s been assumed the construct was frat(ernity)+ zog.  Fraternity was from the Middle English fraternite, from the Old French fraternité, from the Latin frāternitās, ultimately from frāter (brother).  Although almost certainly unrelated to Fratzog, in the Albanian language, zog translates literally as “bird” (zogu (“the bird”, using the definite article)).  The Zogolli family’s (the construct being the root Zog + the Ottoman-Turkish patronymic suffix –oglu (son of)) most famous member was Zog I (Ahmed Muhtar Bey Zogolli; 1895–1961); King of Albania 1928–1939) and in 1922 (after the Ottoman Empire was dissolved), he Albanized and shortened his surname to Zogu, six year later clipping the final “-u” and adopting the mononym King Zog as his royal title.  Fratzog also predates by some 16 years the acronym ZOG (used also as Zog) (Zionist Occupation Government, Zionist Occupational Government, or Zionist-Occupied Government), a term (dating from 1976) for the US government used by certain antisemitic conspiracy theorists claiming Jews secretly control the US government (a recurrent theme in Nazi propaganda under the Third Reich (1933-1945) extended also to the UK government).  JOG (Jewish Occupational Government) has also been used but, historically, SOG was preferred it was thought to distinguish “Jewish subversive conduct” from “being Jewish” although that subtlety escaped most.  Fratzog is a noun; the noun plural is Fratzogs.

1966 Dodge Charger.  In case people didn't “get the message”, Dodge added a fratzog to the hubcaps (top left), gas cap (top left) and grille (centre) while a Flookerang appeared on the C-Pillar (bottom left) with a pentastar behind the front wheel-arch (bottom right).

Using standard etymological deconstruction, a surface analysis of Flookerang reveals the portmanteau construction but all that’s known of the origin of Fratzog is the logo emerged in mid 1960 from Chrysler’s Highland Park styling studio, then under the direction of Elwood Engel (1917–1986; Chief Designer, Chrysler Corporation 1961-1973).  Whether it was the work of an individual or something of a team effort is unclear but, given the simplicity of the task, that it came from the hand of a single designer is quite plausible.  While never named, some sources have referred to the designer as “he” so it’s reasonable to assume it was a man (throughout Detroit the styling studios then an almost exclusively male domain although women had for decades being involved in color choices and interior detailing) but no documentary evidence has ever been sighted.  The meaning of Fratzog has long been a mystery with the industry legend being it was “made up on the spot” after someone in the marketing department sent a request asking how they should refer to the thing.  Having the punchy qualities of being short, memorable, phonetic, unique and needing only two syllables, it would have had some appeal to marketing types but whether they ever sent a “follow-up” asking what it meant, isn’t known.

Cornell University's Chi Phi fraternity house, 107 Edgemoor Lane, Ithaca, New York.

Probably it was good they didn’t pursue the matter because the orthodoxy is “Fratzog” has no meaning, speculation focused usually on the “frat” element with the most popular theory being it may be a borrowing of the clipping of “fraternity” (a social organization of male students at a college or university) and familiar in forms such as “frat party” (much associated with drunkenness, frat houses to this day one of the most convenient paths to alcohol for those under 21 (in the US the minimum age at which alcohol may be purchased and consumed)).  Many of the designers at Highland Park would have been “frats” (members of a fraternity and habitués of frat houses) so it’s not impossible “fratzog” may have been slang among certain drunken students although that’s wholly speculative but there is a rich history of such constructs including “frat boy” & “frat rat” (members of a fraternity, the most obnoxious of the breed dubbed “fratholes”), “frat house” (a fraternity's building) and “frat flick” & “frat lit” (movies & books about fraternities or appealing to the frat boy stereotype (“fratire” the ultimate form of the literature, now understood as a stream of “toxic masculinity”)).  As might be predicted given the elements of frat house life (males aged 17-25, ample stocks of alcohol, disposable income and proximity to sorority houses (a source of female students aged 17-25)), behavior can be less than ideal and recent scandals at Cornell University have illustrated aspects of the culture.  Sorority was from the Renaissance Latin sorōritās, from the Classical Latin soror (sister), from the primitive Indo-European swésōr; the word may be compared with the Portuguese sororidade, the Spanish sororidad and the French sororité.

Lindsay Lohan “on theme” in the livery of the Cincinnati Bengals (a football team in the NFL (National Football League) as a member of the AFC (American Football Conference) North division (left) and 1968 Dodge Charger Bengal Edition (right).

The Dodge Charger Bengal Edition was created in 1968 by Cincinnati Dodge dealer to celebrate the formation of an NFL franchise for the city, arranging with Chrysler’s fleet supply staff to have the cars painted in orange and fitted with black vinyl roofs to match the team’s colors.  Amusingly, Chrysler had no such orange in the color charts for its passenger cars but a shade mixed for Michigan Department of Transportation's fleet proved a perfect match.  An order of 50 was required for the specialized run so 50 duly were ordered in a variety of mechanical configurations.  Reflecting Dodge’s usual build practice for 1968 Chargers, Fratzog logos were fitted on the grille and rear panel unless the R/T package also was ordered in which case R/T badges were substituted.  In either case, a Fratzog appeared on the steering wheel boss but mysteriously, some 1968 Charger R/Ts exist with a small Fratzog on the instrument panel while others have a miniature R/T.  “Special editions” like the Bengal Charger often appeared to stimulate sales of slow-selling models but the 1968 Charger was a hit from day one and although the product planners had projected sales that season of around 20,000, they were pleasantly surprised when more than 96,000 left the showroom, a second assembly line quickly added to meet demand.  It was a remarkable increase on its slab-sided predecessor (1966-1967) that in 1967 had struggled to achieve a volume of less than 15,000.

A Fratzog.

King Zog I of Albania died in 1961 but there’s nothing to suggest Fratzog’s second element was inspired by or a tribute to the deposed monarch, by then living in France (the culmination of a peripatetic exile made comfortable by having looted the Albanian treasury of its gold reserves) where he would succumb to cancer, his 65 years a reasonable achievement for someone who reputedly smoked some 200 cigarettes a day (if true, assuming he slept 8 hours a day, that’s a fag about every 5 minutes which does seem a heroic devotion to the art).  It’s intriguing to ponder whether being dubbed a “fratzog” was something good or bad but, whatever might be the history of the name (that might to some sound like something associated with the rituals in a Masonic Temple), the shape is no mystery to mathematicians, the Fratzog based on a Deltoid curve (the roulette created by a point on the circumference of a circle as it rolls without slipping along the inside of a circle with three or one-and-a-half times its radius).  Its year of debut came of course at the at the dawn of the space race but while the shape (three delta-forms arranged in an equilateral triangle) might be thought (at least vaguely) evocative of an aerospace theme, that would not much have encouraged more pessimistic types who saw only a “fractured deltoid”.  So, no translation, acronym or verified linguistic origin exists but despite that it certainly caught on, first appearing on the 1962 Dodge Polara 500 and Custom 880, before being applied to various Dodge and other Chrysler models until 1976 and in some places lingering until 1981 when, at the instigation of the new CEO, Lee Iacocca (1924–2019), the pentastar logo was standardized corporation-wide.

Fratzog on 1972 Australian Chrysler Valiant Charger E55 SE 340; not only the Americans had long model names.

Nor is it known if the Fratzog’s “triangular” theme was an allusion to the company’s original logo.  The Dodge brothers' (Horace (1868–1920) and John (1864–1920) engineering business had begun production of passenger cars just before World War I (1914-1918) and their first emblem had been a dual interlocking triangle that resembled a stylized Star of David.  The family was not Jewish and it’s believed the logo used representations of the Greek letter delta (in upper case use a triangle shape) meant to represent the two brothers who had always been close (John dying of pneumonia during the 1918-1921 influenza pandemic and Horace expiring the same year from cirrhosis of the liver).  Other logos would appear after Chrysler purchased Dodge in 1928 (following an abortive earlier attempt) but none were even vaguely Fratzogish so history is not much help in tracing the origin; the industry legend of a designer just “liking the shape” may really be true.  It did though have a longer and more diverse career than the Flookerang, serving variously as body badges & grille emblems and appearing also on gas (petrol) caps & horn buttons.  Despite the proliferation, the Fratzog never became thematic in print advertising the way the Flookerang had been used in the 1950s.  So that's it, both words (one a conventional portmanteau, the other possibly one but genuinely mysterious) emerging from a Detroit styling studio although, had anyone concluded Flookerang & Fratzog was likely either an unfinished novel by Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821–1881) or a firm of Jewish accountants, that would have been understandable. 

The original Dodge Brothers logo, used between 1914 and 1930.  The oft-repeated story the logo was adopted to annoy the notoriously anti-Semitic Henry Ford (1863-1947) is now thought an urban myth.

Except among collectors or students of such things, by 2024, neither logo probably much registered in the public consciousness in the way of Chevrolet’s bow-tie or Ford’s “Blue Oval” (that font a hand-drawn rendition based on Henry Ford’s signature although PostScript and TrueType emulations variously are available (FordScript the closest, Fabiola Script & Neville Regular similar)) but despite the collective memory having faded, in 2024 Dodge announced the Fratzog would be revived as symbol of its new range of electric power-trains, assuring the world the constant advances in battery chemistry meant the days of thousand HP (horsepower) EVs with AWD (all-wheel-drive) and a 500 mile (800 km) range were nigh; burning rubber wasn’t going away, it’d just no longer require gas.  To make the historic link, there was CGI (computer generated graphics, generative AI (artificial intelligence) at that point not sufficiently refined) footage with Fratzogs, a rationale and lots of tyre smoke.  As things turned out, batteries continued to improve but Dodge’s announcement 2023 would be the end of the line for their gas-powered V8 muscle cars turned out to be premature though genuinely that was the intent.

1967 Wolseley Hornet (1961-1969, left) and 2022 Dodge Charger Daytona SRT EV Concept (right).  Although six decades apart, there are still commonalities, both having four wheels and illuminated grille badges.

Keen-eyed observers of promotional material for the 2024 (EV) Charger Daytona noted Fratzog logos on the wheel hubs with the one in the centre of the grille being illuminated, a feature long associated with the English manufacturer Wolseley which, under a number of corporate umbrellas between 1901 and 1975 variously thrived, survived or struggled until finally becoming one of the many victims of the doomed British Leyland (1968-1986).  Wolseley never produced a muscle car but in the 1950s & 1960s was one of the "preferred suppliers" for many of the UK's metropolitan police forces.  The Wolseley trademark is now in the hands of the CCP (Chinese Communist Party), the state-owned SAIC Motor (formerly Shanghai Automotive Industry Corporation) acquiring it by virtue of the MG Rover Group having in 2005 been absorbed by SAIC subsidiary Nanjing Automobile.  Although Nanjing has since 2008 produced vehicles using the MG name, there has never been any indication the Wolseley marquee might be revived, presumably because unlike MG which retained strong “brand recognition” because of the following enjoyed by its pre-1980 sports cars, Wolseley has faded from the collective memory, most of its original customers now dead. 

EV: The future of Fratzog.  Dodge's EV shtick is that “people buy performance, not a mechanical specification”, a variant of the hardware store's “people don't want 20 mm drill bits, they want 20 mm holes); it'll be interesting to see if the “US muscle car model” (front-mounted V8, RWD (rear-wheel-drive)) can be re-defined to “performance breakdown”.  The market will decide.

There was also a neologism, “Frazonic” emblazoned on the rear valance; it turned out that adjective referred to the “Fratzonic Chambered Exhaust” (piped “engine noise”, replicating in tone and dB (decibels) the song of a Hellcat V-8; the adverb presumably “Fratzonically”).  Just as government regulations had by the early 1970s contributed to the demise of the first muscle car era (although the insurance companies did their bit), so it seemed clear that five decades on, government edicts might also drive extinct at least the V8-powered monsters of the new generation, production of such things no longer viable given the new fleet fuel efficiency mandate.  However, as things turned out, there may be a stay of execution, internal documents “obtained” by various sites appearing to confirm Dodge’s EV ranges may in 2028 be augmented by a Charger running the supercharged 6.2-liter (376 cubic inch) Hemi Hellcat V8 in a RWD (rear-wheel-drive) configuration.  The internal designation appeared as “HEV” though that stood for not the by now common “Hybrid EV” but the wholly more subversive “Hellcat Equipped Vehicle”; that repurposing may not have been mischievous but someone at Dodge may have been trying to annoy Greta Thunberg (b 2003).  So Dodge is gearing up for what may be one last hard ride for those who can remember the way things used to be done (when noise was organic and not Fratsonic) but within the Stellantis product planning department, the only poem much read is likely to be To a mouse (1785) by Robert "Rabbie" Burns (1759–1796) with focus on the two famous lines: “The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men / Gang aft agley” (ie however well-planned, things can go awry).  Corporate America has found Donald Trump’s (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) second administration more accommodating than its immediate predecessor but, like many, keenly they’ll be watching the returns from the 2026 mid-term elections.

Gown

Gown (pronounced goun) 

(1) A type of woman's dress or robe, especially one full-length and worn on formal occasions and often styled as “evening gown” or “ball gown”.

(2) As nightgown, a loose fitting garment worn by sleeping (historically by both men & women but now most associated with the latter); the shortened for is “nightie”.

(3) As surgical gown, a light, protective garment worn in hospitals by medical staff, a specialized form of which is the isolation gown.

(4) As dressing gown (also call bathrobe), a garment in the form of an open robe secured by a tie and often worn over pajamas, after a bath and prior to dressing or on other occasions where there’s no immediate need to dress.

(5) A loose, flowing outer garment in various forms, worn to denote an office held, profession practiced or as an indication of rank or status, most associated with formal academic dress (sometimes in the phrase “cap & gown”).

(6) Those who work or study at a university as opposed to the other residents of the university town, expressed in the phrase “town & gown”.

(7) Historically, the dress of civil, as opposed to military officers.

(8) To supply with or dress in a gown.

1300-1350: From Middle English goune & gowne, from Anglo-Norman gune & goune (fur-trimmed coat, pelisse), from the Old French goune (robe, coat; nun's habit), from the Late Latin gunna (a garment of fur or leather), from the Ancient Greek γούνα (goúna) (coarse garment), of unknown origin but may be from a Balkan or Apennine language where it seems to have been used as early as the eighth century to describe a fur (or fur-lined), cloak-like garment worn by old or infirm monks; More speculatively, some scholars suggest a Celtic source.  The alternative explanation suggests a Scythian origin, from the Proto-Iranian gawnám (fur), the possibility of this link supported by the Younger Avestan gaona (body hair) and the Ossetian гъун (ǧun).  The alternative spelling gowne is obsolete and descendants in other languages include the Bengali গাউন (gaun), the Japanese ガウン, the Korean  가운 (gaun), the Malay gaun, the Punjabi ਗਾਊਨ (gāūna) and the Welsh gown.  Gown is a noun and verb and gowned is an adjective; the noun plural is gowns.

Surgeon in blood-splattered surgical gown (also called hospital or medical gowns), mid-procedure.

As late as the eighteenth century, gown was the common word for what is now usually described as dress and gown in this sense persisted in the US longer than in the UK and there was on both sides of the Atlantic something of a twentieth century revival and the applied uses (bridal gown, nightgown etc) became more or less universal.  The meaning “a loose, flowing outer garment in various forms, worn to denote an office held, profession practiced or as an indication of rank” emerged in the late fourteenth century and the collective singular for “residents of a university” dates from the 1650s, still heard in the rhyming phrase “town & gown”.  The night-gown (worn once by both men & women but now associated almost exclusively with the latter) became a thing in the fourteenth century.

Lindsay Lohan in white & black color-blocked bandage dress.  With a flawless figure, Ms Lohan doesn't need the "corrective" effects the bandage construction provides and this one may really be a bodycon dress with the visual effect of "bandage layers" created by stitched folds. 

Dress dates from circa 1300 and was from the Middle English dressen & dresse (to arrange, put in order), from the Anglo-Norman & Old French dresser, drecier (which persists in as dresser), from the unattested Vulgar Latin dīrēctiāre, from the Classical Latin dīrēctus, the perfect passive participle of dīrigō (to arrange in lines, direct, steer), the construct being dis- (the prefix in this context meaning “apart; asunder; in two’) + regō (to govern, manage), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European h₃reǵ- (straight, right).  The noun dress was derived from the verb and emerged in the sense of “attire” in the early 1600s.  Originally, a dress was always something which covered both the upper and lower parts of the female body but not of necessity in once piece.  The dressing gown seems first to have been described as such in 1854 although in French both robe de chambre (dressing gown) & robe de nuit (nightgown) had been in use for centuries.

Lindsay Lohan in dressing gowns; in the US such things would usually be called bathrobes.

Robe dates from the mid-thirteenth century Middle English robe & robbe and was from the Old French robe, robbe & reube (booty, spoils of war, robe, garment), from the Frankish rouba & rauba (booty, spoils, stolen clothes (literally “things taken”)), from the Old High German roub, from the Proto-Germanic raubō, raubaz & raubą (booty, that which is stripped or carried away), from the primitive Indo-European Hrewp- (to tear away, peel off).  The noun use of robe to refer to garments had entered general use by the late thirteenth century, an adoption of a meaning from the Old French, presumably because fine clothing looted from defeated enemies were among the most prized of the spoils of war.  The Old French robe (and the alternative spellings) had as concurrent meanings both “clothing” & “plunder: as did the Germanic forms including the Old English reaf (plunder, booty, spoil; garment, armor, vestment).  By the late thirteenth century, robe had assumed the meaning “a long, loose outer garment reaching almost to the floor, worn by men or women over other dress”, those closest European equivalents being the twelfth century Old French robe (long, loose outer garment) and the Old High German rouba (vestments).  In royal, academic and ecclesiastical circles, the particular style of robes became regulated to denote rank, function or or membership of a religious order and royal courts would include offices like “page of the robes”, “mistress of the robes”, master of the robes etc” although those titles are (to modern eyes) misleading because their responsibilities extended to garments generally and not just robes as they’re now understood.  The metonymic sense of “the robe” for "the legal profession" dates from the 1640s, a reference to the dark robes worn by advocates when appearing in court.  Robe went on productively to be adopted for other purposes including (1) in the US “the skin of a bison (later applied to other slaughtered beasts) used as a cloak or wrap, (2) a short form of wardrobe (especially when built into a wall rather than being stand-alone) and (3) the largest and strongest leaves on a tobacco plant.

Singer Dr Taylor Swift in academic gown after being conferred an honorary doctorate in fine arts from New York University, May 2022.

In formal and vocational use, gown and robe and well understood and there tends not to be overlap except among those unacquainted with such things.  That’s understandable because to the casual observer the things can look much the same and the differences in nomenclature are more to do with tradition than style or cut.  Judges for example ware judicial robes and in the US these are usually black whereas elsewhere in the English-speaking world they can be of quite vivid hues, red and scarlet the most admired.  The US influence however seem pervasive and the trend is now almost universally black, certainly among newly established courts; in the same courts, barristers robes look much the same the term “judicial robe” is exclusive to the bench, the advocates garments variously called “barristers’ robes” “legal robes” or lawyers’ robes”.  Academics however wear gowns and again, the Americans tend to favor black while in the English tradition, all the colors of the rainbow have been seen.  These differ from surgical (also known as hospital or medical gowns) which, compared with just about every other gown, really aren’t gowns at all.  Surgical gowns are made usually in a blue, beige or green pastel color (better to show the blood) and are a kind of inverted dress which is fastened at the back (by an assistant so the wearer’s fingers don’t pick up germs).  In the UK parliament, there were many robes for offices of state and the one worn by the speaker made its way to colonial and dominion parliaments.  They're now rarely worn except on ceremonial occasions and the best known is probably that of the UK’s chancellors of the exchequer although the last one, dating from the late nineteenth century, is said to have “gone missing” while Gordon Brown (b 1951; UK prime-minister 2007-2010) was chancellor.

The Welsh Wizard robed: Lloyd George as Chancellor of the Exchequer (1911) (David Lloyd George, 1863–1945; UK prime-minister 1916-1922, severed as chancellor between 1908-1915), oil on canvas by Christopher Williams (1873–1934), National Library of Wales collection.

Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) was in 1924 both surprised and delighted when Stanley Baldwin (1867–1947; UK prime-minister 1923-1924, 1924-1929 & 1935-1937) offered him the Treasury; he’d heard rumors of appointed “chancellor” as assumed the best he could hope for was the chancellorship of the Duchy of Lancaster which, although an ancient office dating from the fourteenth century, he knew to be little more than a sinecure of slight influence, having in 1915 been for a few months relegated there after leaving the Admiralty in the wake of the failure of the Dardanelles campaign.  To atone, he went to the trenches of the Western Front and for some six month commanded a regiment of the Royal Scots Fusiliers.  Though never forgotten, much was by 1924 forgiven and Churchill was pleased to tell the prime minister he’d be glad to take the exchequer, one slight benefit to the public purse being “I still have the robes my father (Lord Randolph Churchill (1849–1895; Chancellor of the Exchequer August-December 1886)) wore as chancellor”.  In retrospect, that sartorial convenience might have been an inadequate background for handling the nation’s finances and Churchill often is listed high up the list of the UK’s “worst chancellors”, the main charge being returning sterling to the gold standard and maintaining an over-valued currency but just about all the great institutions of state (the Treasury, the Cabinet, the Bank of England etc) and most economists (a notable dissenter being John Maynard Keynes (later Lord Keynes) 1883-1946) who predicted depression as a consequence) recommended the move.  Still, it was Churchill was who signed the documents and the consensus among historians of such things is that had he known anything of economics, he’d likely have signed with even greater alacrity.

NSW (New South Wales (Australia)) Supreme Court and Court of Appeal judges in judicial robes and wigs for a ceremonial event during the COVID-19 pandemic.

It’s in women’s fashion where the distinction between a gown and a dress can become muddied and probably most illustrative is the matter of the “wedding dress” and the “wedding gown”.  Even among couturiers, there’s actually no agreed definition of where one ends and the other begins; it’s very much in the eye of the beholder although the eye of the retailer is doubtless quite an influence, the theory being the grander the design and the greater the volume of fabric, the more plausible is the label “wedding gown” and the higher the price-tag.  These informal (but serviceable) rules of thumb work also for dresses & gowns in general, the distinction more one of semantics and personal preference although, in saying that, it’s only at the margins where there can be confusion; a minimalist LBD (little black dress) would never be confused with a gown and the grandest creations recalling those worn at the famous balls held in conjunction with the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815) would never be called dresses.

Watercolor by unknown artist of one of the many balls held during the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815).  Being ankle-length, gowns were not the ideal garment for ladies dancing and it's likely some made temporary modifications, "hitching them up" a bit.

Despite that, in the narrow technical sense, to a seamstress, all gowns are dresses, but not all dresses are gowns and as late as the early eighteenth century the word "dress" was still not the exclusive province of women’s clothing ensembles.  In recent centuries, the dress has been defined by its modifiers (sun-dress, summer-dress, evening-dress, travelling dress, tent dress, riding-dress etc) and the modern convention seems to be that if an invitation specifies "semi-formal" then an evening dress is expected and that might be something thought a gown but not necessarily.  However, when an invitation states that the occasion is "formal", women are expected to wear an evening gown.  Classically, that’s understood to be something at once precise yet frivolous, with a tight fitting bodice and a skirt at least brushing the floor and this was once the accepted standard for any red-carpet event of note but the recent trend towards displays of flesh has in the entertainment industry subverted the tradition although the audience is expected still to adhere.

Illustrating the modern gown: Actor Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) in a gown with an upper-level silk tulle (a netting-like weave) by Zac Posen (b 1980), Met Gala, New York, 2007 (left) and model Kate Upton (b 1992) in a gown by Victoria Beckham (b 1974, the one-time “Posh Spice”, now Lady Beckham), Vanity Fair Oscars after-party, Los Angeles, 2016.

Fashion has since the Congress of Vienna become simplified and rather than voluminous layers of fabric, a gown’s effects are now generated by cut & color.  For his diaphanous piece, Zac Posen included a quadrilateral (a four-sided polygon) cleavage split, designed cleverly to emulate a tie (in Euclidean geometry defined as a “kite” (two pairs of adjacent, equal-length sides with the two shorter sides meeting at the bottom vertex, the longer pair intersecting at the top so a line described from top to bottom produces an axis of reflection symmetry, as does the fall of a tie)).  What Lady Beckham included would probably now be called a “uvage” although physiology can affect outcome; on a different model (with less pronounced “forward projection”) the fabric would likely fall to create a “veagage”.  While there can be overlaps in cut, construction and cues, there are points at which a LBD becomes re-defined as a “dress” (possibly with a modifier or two) or a “gown”.  Although motifs can matter (what sometimes appears on a gown often not suitable for a LBD that depends on simplicity for effect) the prime determinate really is length, the classic LBD’s hemline stopping somewhere on the thighs while a gown properly should be ankle-length although calf-left implementations have become not uncommon.  The “rule” is however selectively applied and depends also on style and intended purpose; an ankle-length “maxi-dress” will typically not be a “gown”.  Again, physiology can also influence things, someone especially statuesque could appear in a LBD while the same garment on someone shorter might be classed a “black cocktail dress”, simply because the hemline reaches below the knee.  So usually it’s not difficult to tell what is a gown but, at the margins, the distinctions can become blurred and it’s really “eye of the beholder” stuff, a subjective exercise expressed best (in another context) by Potter Stewart (1915–1985; associate justice of the SCOTUS (US Supreme Court) 1958-1981) in his famous concurring judgement in Jacobellis v Ohio (378 U.S. 184 (1964)): “I shall not today attempt further to define the kinds of material I understand to be embraced within [the term], and perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so.  But I know it when I see it…”

Bandage

Bandage (pronounced ban-dij)

(1) A strip of soft cloth or other material used to bind up a wound, sore, sprain etc, or as a protective compression device to prevent or limit injury.

(2) Anything used as a band or ligature.

(3) To bind or cover with a bandage; to put a bandage on a wound, sprain etc, or as a protective compression device to prevent or limit injury.

(4) In fashion, a type of dress, distinguished from similar styles by the use of knitted fabrics.

(5) Figuratively, by extension, a provisional or makeshift solution that provides insufficient coverage or relief (also as band-aid solution).

1590-1600: From the Middle English bandage (strip of soft cloth or other material used in binding wounds, stopping bleeding etc), from the sixteenth century French bandage, from the Old French bander (to bind), from bande (a strip).  The verb bandage (to dress a wound etc, with a bandage) dates from 1734 (and was implied in bandaging).  Bandage is the spelling in Danish, Dutch, German, English & Swedish but other languages localized the French including Norwegian Bokmål (bandasje) Polish (bandaż) & Turkish (bandaj).  The spelling in the constructed Esperanto is bandaĝo.  The noun bandager really does appear in first-aid manuals but bandagist (one who sells bandages) is now rare.  Other words used in similar vein include dressing, gauze, plaster, swathe, truss, compress, bind & wrap.  Bandage & bandaging are nouns & verbs, bandager & bandagist are nouns, bandaged is a verb & adjective and bandagelike is an adjective; the noun plural is bandages.

The noun compress, (in the surgical sense of "soft mass of linen or other cloth to press against some part of the body (with the aid of a bandage)”), as an adaptation from the earlier verb, evolved in the 1590s in parallel with bandage.  In earlier use, the noun ligament (band of tough tissue binding bones) was a late fourteenth century creation from the Latin ligamentum (a band, bandage, tie, ligature), from ligare (to bind, tie), from the primitive Indo-European root leig- (to tie, bind) and in the medical literature, ligamental, ligamentous & ligamentary still occasionally appear.  One technical term from medicine which seems extinct is the verb deligate (to bind up, bandage), noted since 1840 (and implied in deligated), from the Latin deligatus (bound fast), from deligare (to bind fast), the construct being de- (from the Latin dē-, from the preposition dē (of, from); the Old English æf- was a similar prefix) + ligare (to bind).  Under the Raj, the noun puttee (long strip of cloth wound round the lower leg as protection by soldiers) enjoyed a evolution in spelling typical of many words in British India, patawa in 1875, puttie by 1886 and the modern puttee finally (more or less) standardized by 1900).  The source was the Hindi patti (band, bandage) from the Sanskrit pattah (strip of cloth).  The noun fascia did have a brief career in medicine, being from the Latin fascia (a band, bandage, swathe, ribbon), derivative of fascis (bundle (which as fasces became a familiar form in the twentieth century)).  In English, the original use was in architecture, the anatomical application not noted until 1788 and it’s now also a familiar form in botany, music, astronomy and interior design, most obviously in cars.  The noun bandeau (headband), now much associated with revolutionaries (and in fashion the emulation) dates from 1706, from the French bandeau, from the twelfth century Old French bandel & bendel (bandage, binding), a diminutive of bande (a band, a strip).  As a style of women's top or bra, it was first described in 1968 and is distinguished from similar styles in being of a rectangular cut, the hems forming two horizontal lines above and below the breasts.

The bandage dress

Model Charlotte McKinney (b 1993) in red bodycon dress, 2018.  This one is not a true "bandage" because it's not constructed with the horizontal cuts of fabric (al la a wrapped bandage).

Although the motif of what is called the bandage dress is clearly identifiable in depictions of women pre-dating Antiquity, the creation of the modern commercial product is credited to the 1980s work of Tunisian couturier Azzedine Alaïa (1935-2017) but it is with French designer Hervé Peugnet’s (1957–2017) fashion house Hervé Léger that the style is now most associated.  The bandage dress is a specific interpretation of the earlier, figure-hugging bodycon dress, the name originally a contraction of "body conscious" which the industry would later morph into "body confidence" (a movement forgotten as soon as GLP-1 (glucagon-like peptide-1) appetite-suppressant drugs entered mainstream availability) in reaction to criticism and in Japan, they were marketed as ボディコン (bodikon), a spelling better suited to traditional pronunciation in Japanese.

Model Kate Upton (b 1992) in bandage dress, 2011.  Quite how the predominate color should be described will divide opinion.  Most would probably settle on “purplish-gray” although something like “dusky plum-grey” would appeal to those in the marketing department; it could be called “mauve” but usually that implies a lighter hue.  This one is a genuine “bandage”, distinguished by being built from form-hugging horizontal sections of fabric.

What distinguished bandage from bodycon was the fabric, the former made not with anything woven, engineered instead to compress using machine-knitted material, the completed panels left uncut and assembled to created the finished item.  Bandage dresses thus, although truly suitable for only one body type, because of the compression effect of the knitted fabric, do (slightly) extend the parameters of the silhouette which can be accommodated while still being aesthetically successful whereas bodycon dresses made from fabrics which merely cling rather than smooth out imperfections rely on an ideally formed frame.  For that reason, the jocular slang “body compression” was sometimes used to describe this sub-set of the bodycon, the bandage dress working like externally worn shapewear, corset-like in effect if not quite an actual exoskeleton.

Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) in bodycon dress with fishnet stockings, 2008.  Visually, this one is a bit of a hybrid because, although not built-up with fabric layers, the "bandage-look is emulated with stitched-folds.  When worn by someone with a flawless figure, the "corrective" tricks of the bandage construction are not demanded.  

Hervé Léger in 1992 first displayed the bandage dresses which would come to be the style’s definitive look; instantly popular, they were a red-carpet staple well into the twenty-first century.  Still a big seller, the bandage dress in 2015 migrated, via the twittersphere, from the fashion section to the front page when the comments of Patrick Couderc (b 1961, then managing director of Hervé Léger's British distributor, MJH Fashion), were published.  In an interview with the Daily Mail on Sunday, Mr Couderc made it clear he’d prefer it if some women would avoid buying Hervé Léger’s most famous creation, those on the proscribed list including lesbians, those beyond a certain age and anyone with a less than ideal silhouette.

There was an element of classism too in his critique as he lamented the growing popularity of the bandage dress, too many now seen on the wrong-shaped customers and worse still, they were often cheap knock-offs of the £1,300 (US$1600) originals and thus increasingly associated with reality TV stars and those working in hair salons.  Admitting dryly “you can be a victim of your success”, his comments seemed to echo those reported earlier in the century by the distributers of a high-end cognac and the Maybach, Daimler-Benz’s ill-fated mistake in thinking what was needed was a brand above Mercedes-Benz which, for almost a century, had been good enough for presidents, popes and potentates.  Then the complaint had been that drink and car were finding favor with hip-hop & rap stars and this most interpreted as an expression of concern the association with people of color might “cheapen the brand”.  Mr Couderc didn’t comment on skin color but told The Mail he refuses to give free dresses to celebrities if they are “judged to lack sufficient class”.

Clearly a student of the interplay of sociology and economics, he allowed his mind to wander wide, recalling that he’d “...never go out to dinner if she’s not wearing tights.  I think hosiery is something which is very magical in my world and I’m veering off into complete poetry now.  But it’s a social statement because in the 1980s, the difference between someone who was wearing tights and someone who was not was very significant.”  Clearly nostalgic for a time when the poor were less inclined to get ideas above their station, he added that then, “...whoever was wearing tights was working in a private office in a bank in St James’s and whoever was not wearing tights was coming to work as a shampooist in a High Street hairdresser, commuting from Croydon.  We were living in a time where the distinction between the two social strata was much more significant than today”.  How he must long for that vanished, pre-1945 world, when folk from Croydon were deferential to their betters.

Actor Salma Hayek (b 1966) in lavender bandage dress, 1998.

The attitude was hardly unique in the industry, Abercrombie & Fitch early in the century re-built into a highly profitable company using a model former CEO Mike Jeffries (b 1944) described in a 2006 interview as “exclusionary” noting their clothes were a product in which “a lot of people don’t belong and they can’t belong.”  That really wasn’t an unusual business model but it was rare for a CEO so bluntly to state the obvious and, when the comments were published in 2013, Mr Jeffries issued a apology saying "We are completely opposed to any discrimination, bullying, derogatory characterizations or other anti-social behavior based on race, gender, body type or other individual characteristics".  Also controversial was a later comment, attributed in 2013 to (an unnamed) Abercrombie and Fitch district manager.  It’s said the person being interviewed requested anonymity so the statements have never been verified but it was reported that when asked how the company responds to non-profits asking for donations of discontinued clothing to be given to the poor and homeless, the reply was “Abercrombie and Fitch doesn’t want to create the image that just anybody, poor people, can wear their clothing. Only people of a certain stature are able to purchase and wear the company name”, to which he added they would rather “burn the clothes” than risk them being seen on the backs of the poor.  Again, while rarely discussed, the practice of destroying rather than discounting or giving away unsold or discontinued items is widespread in the industry.  In 2024, Mr Jefferies was indicted in the US on criminal charges of sex trafficking and interstate prostitution of young men.  In 2025, a judge accepted a motion filed by the prosecution and defense saying Mr Jeffries was suffering from advanced dementia and Alzheimer's disease and was thus not competent to stand trial.  After a period of assessment in hospital at the FMC (Federal Medical Center), in November 2025 he was released from custody but, surprising some, within a month prosecutors informed the court Mr Jeffries had been re-assessed after treatment and was now fit to stand trial; in August 2026 this was accepted by the court and a hearing date is expected soon to be announced.

Speaking at Hervé Léger’s boutique in Knightsbridge, Central London, the like-minded Mr Couderc wasn’t entirely lacking in empathy, noting “You women have a lot of problems. You will lose the plot.  You will come and you will put a dress on and you’ll be in front of the mirror, like, ‘Argh, I’m so fat’”.  “Yes, you have a 12th of an inch around your stomach, it’s not really a disaster, and what you’re not noticing is that your cleavage is about two inches too low because you are 55 and it’s time that you should not display everything like you’re 23.”  At this point he did concede the particular virtue of the bandage dress was it could in such cases “provide useful support” but that didn’t mean he approved.

How a Hervé Léger bandage dress should hang.

He’d clearly thought about things, his advice to lesbians (presumably young or old) that “if you’re a committed lesbian and you are wearing trousers all your life, you won’t want to buy a Léger dress.  Lesbians would want to be rather butch and leisurely.”  Warming to the topic, he went on to say “voluptuous” women (most drawing the inference he meant "not slender") and those with “very prominent hips and a very flat chest” should wear something else, adding the handy hint that women must not wear underwear that was too small, because “the knicker line cuts through the flesh and goes through the other side of the dress” thereby creating the dreaded VPL “visible panty line.”

Hervé Léger’s Moscow store.

Quite what he thought the reaction to his comments would be isn’t recorded but while his views may not much have changed since the 1980s, much of the rest of the world now has the means to respond en masse and what should have been the foreseen twitterstorm (X used to be called Twitter) quickly gathered, the hashtags  #boycottherveleger & #wecanwearwhateverthefuckwewant soon trending.  Doubtlessly fearing the "righteous wrath and indignation" of blood-thirsty lesbians, those not slender, chav shampooists and women of a certain age, Max Azria’s (1949-2019) BCBGMAXAZRIA Group (that in 1998 had acquired Hervé Léger), went immediately into crisis management mode, issuing a statement saying they were “...shocked and appalled by Patrick Couderc’s comments made in the Mail on Sunday.  BCBGMAXAZRIA Group is working in concert with MJH Fashion, the London-based licensee of the Herve Leger brand, to investigate and establish appropriate next steps. The statements made by Mr Couderc are not a reflection of Herve Leger by Max Azria or MJH Fashion ideals or sentiments.”  The Herve Leger by Max Azria brand celebrates sensuality, glamour and femininity without discrimination.”  Less than 24 hours later, MJH Fashion confirmed Mr Couderc was no longer employed by the company.  Max Azria (1949–2019) in 2016 ended his connection with BCBGMAXAZRIA and its associated companies and in 2017 the group filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection, the intellectual property rights and assets later acquired by the Marquee Brands division of the Global Brands Group.  Bandage dresses remain popular.