Nurdle

Nurdle (pronounced nhur-dl)

(1) In cricket, to work the ball away gently, especially to the leg side, gently nudging the delivery into vacant spaces on the field; such a shot played.

(2) In conversation, gently to waffle or muse on a subject about which once obviously knows little.

(3) In manufacturing, a pre-production micro-plastic pellet about the size of a pea, the raw material used in the manufacture of plastic products.

(4) In marine ecology as plastic resin pellet pollution (PRPP); marine debris.

(5) The depiction of a wave-shaped blob of toothpaste sitting on a toothbrush.

(6) That which is squeezed from tube to toothbrush.

(7) In the game of tiddlywinks (as nurdling), sending an opponent's wink too close to the pot to score easily. 

Circa 1968: In the context of cricket, it’s of unknown origin but presumably some sort of blend, influenced possibly by “nerd” & “nudge”, the meaning conveyed being a style of play that is cautious, unambitious and unexciting; the slow accumulation of a score; there’s been the suggestion of a link with “noodle” but it’s hard to see the connection and there's no documentary evidence.  The earliest known citation is a 1985 match report in The Times (London).  The small, cylindrical pellets, the raw material of the manufacturing processes of many plastic products, have been called nurdles since at least the 1970s, a reference from that time noted in the manuals supplied with an injection-molding machine.  The word is likely to have been coined either because of the physical similarity of the pellets to some types of noodle or as a variation of nodule (a small node or knot) and plastic nurdles have for decades been recorded as a significant proportion of marine pollution.  As used to describe the toothbrush-length squirt of toothpaste as it sits atop the bristles, the origin is murky but may be linked to nodule.  There have been suggestions the use by the ADA (American Dental Association) in the 1990s in a public-service advertising campaign about the correct technique for brushing may have been the coining but the word was used in toothpaste advertising as early as 1968 although the original spelling seems for some time to have been “nerdle”.  Nurdle is a noun & verb and nurdled & nurdling are verbs; the noun plural is nurdles.  The adjective nurdlesque is non-standard but has been used by at least one cricket commentator not impressed by a batsman's slot selection.

The Triple Action: The Great Nurdle Affair

Previously little discussed before courts, the nurdle received some brief attention when a trademark-infringement lawsuit (Colgate-Palmolive Co v. GlaxoSmithKline LLC, US District Court, Southern District of New York, No. 10-05728) was filed in July 2010 by GlaxoSmithKline (GSK), makers of Aquafresh “Triple Protection” toothpaste, against Procter & Gamble (P&G), owners of the Colgate “Triple Action” brand.  Almost immediately, P&G counter-sued in the same court with the retaliatory GlaxoSmithKline LLC v. Colgate-Palmolive, No. 10-05739.  One was seeking, inter alia, the exclusive right to depict a nurdle, the other claiming the image was so generic the right could be exercised by anyone.

Battle of the nurdles: P&G's Colgate Triple Action (top) and GSK's Aquafresh Triple Protection (bottom).

The disputes hinged on “triple” as a descriptor and “nurdle”, not as a word but as the image of a wave-shaped blob of toothpaste sitting atop the bristles on the head of a toothbrush.  GSK's core argument was that it held trademark registrations on both “triple protection” and a red, white & blue-striped nurdle.  P&G argued “triple protection” was weak and that a nurdle is inherently merely descriptive because it is but a literal image of the product.  What the court had to decide was whether a reasonable consumer, on seeing the nurdle and “triple action” text description on packages of Colgate toothpaste, could be sufficiently misled to believe what they were looking at was sourced, sponsored or endorsed by GSK which used both on their Aguafresh brand.

GSK’s nurdle.

In a filing of some eighty pages, P&G noted its recent release in the US of a toothpaste with packaging which superimposes the words “Triple Action” (the implication being (1) cavity protection, (2) fresh breath & (3), whiter teeth) atop a blue, white and green nurdle.  In response, GSK, which used the “Triple Protection” phrase on its Aquafresh products, filed a trademark application for the "nurdle design" regardless of color; this induced P&G to sue to enforce its rights to use the nurdle.  P&G further noted GSK did not file their application until after they had already complained about P&G’s nurdle design and suggested GSK was using the process to stifle competition by asserting an excessively broad scope for trademark rights.

P&G’s nurdles, registered by Colgate as trademarks. 

GSK’s filing was only half the length and accused P&G of adopting various nurdle designs and the “Triple Action” mark in an effort to “trade off the commercial magnetism” of GSK own packaging which had since 1987 included a distinctive red, white and blue nurdle, an argument which implied elements of both usurpation and ambush marketing.  P&G asked the court to declare its “Triple Action” phrase and interpretation of the nurdle not confusingly similar to GSK’s own “Triple Protection” phrase and nurdle which used distinctively different colors.  It sought also have the court (1) cancel GSK’s “Triple Protection” and nurdle trademark registrations and (2), deny such injunctive relief that would have prevented P&G from using any nurdle design and a phrase containing “triple”.  Damages were sought on several grounds including punitive damages.  It was a case of some commercial significance given GSK had deployed the nurdle as a cartoon character in a marketing campaign aimed at children, the idea being that if children pestered their parents enough to buy Aquafresh for them, it was likely they’d gain the whole family as a conquest (a lesson well learned by countless manufacturers).  The nurdle campaign ran on Nurdle World in the US and The Nurdle Shmurdle in the UK.

Post settlement: Colgate Triple Action with a visually different nurdle.

Late in 2011, the parties announced a notice of settlement had been filed in the court; a confidential settlement had been negotiated.  The details have never been made public but a review of supermarket shelves suggests (1) the red, white & blue GSK nurdle is acknowledged to be propriety, (2) a nurdle nevertheless remains generic and can be depicted as long as it is sufficiently distinguished from GSK’s 1987 original and (3) things claiming to be of or pertaining to happening in threes may be described as “triple” whatever but, in the context of toothpaste, “triple protection” is a GSK trademark.  P&G could thus display a nurdle, just not GSK’s nurdle.  So, as a private settlement, there’s no change to established law but those inhabiting that gray area between ambush marketing and actual deceptive and misleading conduct no doubt took note.  A judge might anyway find the outcome in accordance with the operation of trademark law: a trademarked image as specific as the GSK nurdle is entitled to protection but, as a general principle, a word as notoriously common as “triple” is the property of the commons available to all.

Doramad Radioactive Toothpaste.

In Germany, between the 1920s and the end of World War II (1939-1945), nurdles could be radio-active, toothpaste there sold with trace amounts for thorium obtained from monazite sands, the promotional material of which read: “Increases the defenses of teeth and gums” & “Gently polishes the dental enamel, so it turns white and shiny”.  Although known since at least the mid-1920s, it was only in the aftermath of the A-bomb attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki (1945) that the adverse effects of ionizing radiation in high or sustained does became widely recognized, rendering radio-active toothpaste an undesirable product in the minds of mothers everywhere.  Although radio-active toothpaste sounds evil, the Nazis can't be blamed for it being on the shelves, its debut dating from the Weimar Republic (1918-1933).  

Save Paste structural concept for toothpaste packaging.

From the days when folk made their own toothpaste by mixing water, salt and the soot from chimneys, toothpaste has become one of the sometimes unacknowledged markers of civilized life.  The packaging though has been little changed since 1889 when J&J (Johnson & Johnson) introduced their range in collapsible metal tubes.  The switch from metal to plastic happened over decades, necessitated initially by wartime shortages but by the 1990s, tubes were almost universally plastic.  Despite that, the fundamental design remained unchanged and was often inherently inefficient, supplied in a cardboard box, much of the internal capacity of which was unused because of the shape of the tube.  The design added cost and induced adverse environmental outcomes because (1) the box was unnecessary and immediately discarded and (2), the surplus volume added to the costs of storage and transportation.  One interesting suggestion has been the trapezoidal package.

By using a single cardboard container as both collapsible container and display packaging, it eliminates the need for a separate box.  Also, if designed with the correct geometry, multiple trapezoidal containers can more efficiently be packed for transportation and storage, thereby reducing the energy expended.  This simple trick of packaging. if extended to all products sold in tubes should result in a significant reduction in energy consumption (road, rail and air transport) and therefore in greenhouse emissions.  Additionally, the carboard is more easily recycled than plastic. 

One thing toothpaste manufacturers seem never anxious to discuss is the opinion of many experts that GSK’s classic nurdle, extending the length of the brush-head, is way too much and adults should instead use a nurdle no bigger than a pea.  Restraint when squeezing out a nurdle for children should be even more severe because of the risk when young of swallowing too much toothpaste containing fluoride: it increases the risk dental fluorosis, a cosmetic condition that affects the appearance of the teeth, ranging from brown and light discoloration to darker strains and even pitting.  On a very young child’s brush, rather than a plump nurdle, the toothpaste should just be a smear although they can use an adult's pea-sized nurdle after the age of three.  The BDA (British Dental Association) summarize best practice by recommending: (1) the correct amount of toothpaste for most people to use is a pea size, (2) brush at least twice daily, with a fluoridated toothpaste, brush last thing at night and at least on one other occasion; if possible brush after every meal, (3) use a fluoridated toothpaste (1,350–1,500 ppm fluoride) and (4), spit out after brushing and do not rinse (this maintains the fluoride concentration level).

Have nurdle, will brush: Lindsay Lohan on the set of HBO's Eastbound & Down (2013), brushing teeth while smoking.

It's an unusual combination but might work OK if one smokes a menthol cigarette and uses a nurdle of mint toothpaste; other combinations might clash.  That said, those adventurous enough to experiment and with the patience to shop internationally for toothpaste can try alternative flavours of nurdle and work out which best combines with their tobacco of choice.  Telford Dentistry undertook a survey and discovered manufacturers have used various recipes to concoct an extraordinary range of choices beyond the familiar mint.  The offerings in the EU (European Union) appear to be regionally specific with sweetness increasing as one heads south but licorice, salt, eucalyptus and ratanhia root may all available on-line.  The UK seems to be less adventurous with plain or mint variants almost universal although there are brands offering eucalyptus and it’s tempting to believe dour highland Scots still prefer the traditional mix of soot & salt.  In the US, there’s definitely a national sweet tooth because cinnamon, vanilla, bubblegum and a range of “novelty flavours” (birthday cake, bacon cucumber-dil and Pickle!) are advertised, often targeted at children (or, more accurately, their parents), encouraging them to brush by making the nurdles taste like candy.  East of Suez there’s much variety.  In Japan, there’s matcha, yuzu, wasabi and charcoal while Indian retailers offer neem, clove, miswak, and tulsi and in South East Asia and beyond there’s probably the most delicious sounding variety including Mango, Coconut, Clove Oil, & Betel Leaf.

Tiara

Tiara (pronounced tee-ar-uh, tee-ahr-uh or tee-air-uh (non-U))

(1) A jeweled, usually semi-circular, ornamental coronet worn by women.

(2) In the Roman Catholic Church. a head-piece consisting of three coronets on top of which is an orb and a cross, once worn by the pope, or carried before him during certain non-liturgical functions; a symbol of the position, authority and dignity of the pope.

(3) A high headdress, or turban, worn by the ancient Persian Kings and other men of rank.

1545–1555: An English borrowing, via Italian, from the Latin tiara (headdress) from the Ancient Greek tiā́ra & the Ionic τιήρης (tiḗrēs) (a kind of turban).  The etymology of the Latin and Greek forms is wholly unknown.  In English, there was an earlier anglicized form tiar, attested from the 1510s and tiara became common by the eighteenth century.  Tiara is a noun, tiaraed is a verb & adjective and tiaraless, betiared & tiaralike are adjectives (tiaraesque seems not to have appeared); the noun plural is tiaras.

The Triple Tiara

Sultan Süleyman the Magnificent (circa 1545), woodcut by an unknown Venetian artist.  Historians suspect the depiction of the splendid jewel-studded helmet was substantially accurate but the object may simply have been too heavy safely to wear for all but static, set-piece events, the risk of injury to the neck too great.  Still, he had four tiers so: "Take that pope!"

The papal triple tiara is the final form of a crown which worn by popes of the Roman Catholic Church between the eighth century and 1963.  Traditionally it was worn for their coronation but no pontiff has been so crowned since Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) in 1963 and his abandonment was in the spirit of the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II, 1962-1965).  The name tiara refers to the entire headgear and it has used a three-tiered form since a third crown was added during the Avignon Papacy (1309–1378) and it's referred to also as the triregnum, triregno or Triple Crown.  In a piece of one-upmanship (perhaps one tiership), Suleiman I (Süleyman the Magnificent, 1494-1566, Sultan of the Ottoman Empire 1520-1566) commissioned from Venice a four tier helmet to show, in addition to the authority claimed by popes, he could add the symbol of his imperial power.  Often put on display as the centrepiece of Ottoman regalia to impress visitors, there's no documentary evidence the sultan ever wore the four layer tiara, crowns not part of the tradition and, fashioned from gold and gemstones, it would anyway have been extraordinarily heavy.

Lindsay Lohan, the wandering daughter who ran off to Dubai in Lynn Kiracofe tiara, W Magazine photo- shoot, April 2005.

A representation of the triregnum combined with two crossed keys of Saint Peter continues to be used as a symbol of the papacy and appears on papal documents, buildings and insignia.  Remarkably, there’s no certainty about what the three crowns symbolize.  Some modern historians link it to the threefold authority of the pope, (1) universal pastor, (2) universal ecclesiastical jurisdiction and (3) temporal power.  Others, including many biblical scholars, interpret the three tiers as meaning (1) father of princes and kings, (2) ruler of the world and (3) vicar of Christ on Earth, a theory lent credence by the words once used when popes were crowned:  Accipe tiaram tribus coronis ornatam, et scias te esse patrem principum et regum, rectorem orbis in terra vicarium Salvatoris nostri Jesu Christi, cui est honor et gloria in saecula saeculorum (Receive the tiara adorned with three crowns and know that thou art father of princes and kings, ruler of the world, vicar on earth of our Savior Jesus Christ, to whom is honor and glory for ever and ever).

Escutcheons of the Holy See (left) and the Secret Society of the Les Clefs d’Or (right).

Curiously, the brace of crossed keys appear also in the symbols used the Secret Society of the Les Clefs d’Or (The Golden Keys) which is the international association of hotel concierges; the similarities between their escutcheon and that of the Holy See are quite striking.  According to the Roman Catholic Church's Inquisition (the old Holy Office, now officially known as the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (DDF)), the crossed keys are a symbol of the Papacy's authority and power, representing the "keys of heaven" that in the New Testament were passed from Jesus Christ to Saint Peter.  In Roman Catholic tradition, Peter was appointed by Jesus as the first Pope and given the keys to symbolize his authority to forgive sins and to make decisions binding on behalf of the Church (this the theological basis of what in canon law was codified in the nineteenth century as papal infallibility).  The two keys thus symbolize the pope's two powers: (1) spiritual power (represented by the silver key) and (2) temporal power (represented by the gold key).  The latter power manifested in a most temporal manner during the thousand-odd years (between the eighth & nineteenth centuries) when the authority of the papal absolute theocracy extended to rule and govern the Papal States (which were interpolated into the modern state of Italy upon Italian unification (1859-1870).  Claiming (officially) only temporal dominion, the Secret Society of the Les Clefs d'Or logo depicts both their keys in gold, one said to symbolize the concierge's role in unlocking the doors to the world for their guests, the other their ability to unlock the secrets of their destination and provide insider knowledge and recommendations (restaurant bookings, airport transfers, personal service workers of all types etc).  However, neither the Vatican nor the Les Clefs d’Or have ever denied intelligence-sharing, covert operations, common rituals or other links.

Documents in the Vatican Archive suggest by 1130 the papal tiara had been modified to become a conventional (and temporal) symbol of sovereignty over the Papal States.  In 1301, during a dispute with Philip IV (Philip the Fair, 1268–1314, King of France 1285-1314), Boniface VIII (circa 1230–1303; pope 1294-1303) added a second layer to represent a pope’s spiritual authority being superior to an earthly king’s civil domain.  It was Benedict XII (1285–1342; pope 1334-1342 (as the third Avignon pope)) who in 1342 who added the third, said to symbolize the pope’s moral authority over all civil monarchs, and to reaffirm Avignon’s possession.  A changing world and the loss of the Papal States in 1970 deprived the triple crown of much temporal meaning but the silver tiara with the three golden crowns remained to represent the three powers of the Supreme Pontiff: Sacred Order, Jurisdiction and Magisterium.

Coronation of Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978), 30 June 1963 (left), the triple tiara created for Pius XII (1876-1958; pope 1939-1958) (centre) and the coronation of Pius XII, 12 March, 1939 (right).  Historians sometimes describe the reign of Pius XII as "the last imperial papacy". 

Not since 1963 has a pope worn the triple crown.  Then, Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978), at the end of his coronation ceremony, took the tiara from his head and, in what was said to be a display of humility, placed it on the altar.  The act may have been thought symbolic of the winds of change being brought by the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II, 1962-1965, published 1970) and it was certainly theologically defensible but cynical observers (and among Vaticanologists there are a few) would soon come to interpret as emblematic of Paul VI's pontificate.  Apparently, he'd not wanted to be crowned but acceded to the wishes of the tradition-bound curia and in a compromise, "took it off shortly after it was put on".  Thus proceeded the next 15 years during which Paul came to be known as the "Vatican's Hamlet" because he always found it hard to make a decision.  However, in a practical expression of his act of humility, the triple tiara was auctioned, the money raised used for missionary work in Africa although, keeping things in house, the winning bidder was the well-funded (this was before the need to pay compensation to victims of clerical sex-abuse) Archdiocese of New York.  That allocation proved a good investment because Africa has been a growth market for the church, unlike increasingly Godless Europe and elsewhere in the West.  Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022) and Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013) received triple tiaras as gifts but neither wore them.  Benedict’s, in a nice ecumenical touch, was made by Bulgarian craftsmen from the Orthodox Church in Sofia, a gesture in the name of Christian unity.  Benedict would have appreciated that, having always kept a candle burning in the window, there to guide home the wandering daughter who ran off to Constantinople.

The wandering film star who ran off to Monte Carlo

Former Hollywood film star Grace Kelly (1929–1982; Princess Consort of Monaco 1956-1982), in tiara, pre-wedding photograph, 1956 (a necklace with stones arrayed in this form is styled a Golconda).  The car is a 1963 Thunderbird Limited Edition Landau, known colloquially as the “Princess Grace Edition”.  When the engagement was announced, the joke soon circulated: "When they're a little girl they want to be a princess, when they grow up they want to be a film star, when they're a film star they want to be a princess."

Princess Grace of Monaco was often seen in a tiara (they’re part of the “princess uniform”) and in the same year Paul IV was the last pope to be crowned, she had the pleasure of learning a Ford produced in the US had picked up the nickname “Princess Grace Edition” although Ford’s internal project name was “Thunderbird Special Edition Principality of Monaco” and it was released as a 1963 model with the name: “Thunderbird Limited Edition Landau”.  Produced in a run of 2000 during the final season of the third-generation Thunderbird (1961-1963), all but one were virtually identical and each received an individually number plaque.  The connection to principality & princess wasn’t tenuous because she was consulted on the color scheme and her husband (Rainier III (Rainier Louis Henri Maxence Bertrand Grimaldi, (1923–2005; Prince of Monaco 1949-2005)) received Landau Number 1 as a gift; presumably that was the quid pro quo (from the Latin quid prō quō (literally “something for something”).  The prince’s Landau Number One differed in a number of details from the other 1999 in the run in that it was a one-off build for the prince, one difference being the inclusion of the crest of the Principality of Monaco on a plaque made of silver while all others had one of chrome-plated steel with a brushed aluminum insert faceplate.  In the usual way such “limited edition” plaques were done, they were emblazoned with “Limited Edition Thunderbird Landau”, the serial number (nnnn of 2000) “World Premiere” & “Principality of Monaco”, the latter in a script font.  The features which distinguished the Landau were:

Corinthian White paint.
Dark Rose Beige vinyl roof.
Pearl White leather interior trim with Rose Beige seats.
Dark Rose Beige padded dash & carpet, including carpeted door trim panel bottoms (the only 1963 Thunderbirds so equipped).
Simulated Rosewood trim on console, instrument panel, door panels, rear quarter trim panels, and seat back emblem inserts (these were otherwise in color-keyed vinyl).
Deluxe wheel covers.
Rear fender skirts (spats).
White steering wheel with unique centre-boss insert.
White background on S-Bar inserts.
Monotone vinyl door and quarter trim panels.

Vogue Magazine’s six-page advertising feature, 15 February, 1963.

The princess apparently suggested beige for the paintwork on the basis it was her favorite color but there was some debate within the corporation and the planning committee’s minutes of the final meeting on 19 September, 1962 record the decision “unanimously” was taken to opt for Corinthian White over Rose Beige, that rationale being the combination was close to that used on Monaco’s national flag.  The “Dark Rose Beige” used for the vinyl roof was a noticeably deeper hue than the “Rose Beige” offered as a RPO (regular production option) on the standard Thunderbird line and was really closer to maroon while the shade used for the seats, while lighter than the roof, was darker than what was available for other Thunderbirds.  The roof covering on the Limited Edition Landaus proved prone to fading if exposed to strong sunlight and within a few years, many appeared a very different color.

Vogue Magazine fashion feature, 15 February, 1963.

Vogue took advantage of the having the Thunderbird available by using it as a backdrop for the photo-shoot to accompany “The rush to little suède dazzlers; to leathers that mix”; the location was Cagnes-sur-Mer, a fortified medieval town on the Riviera “with all the appropriate thrall.”  The model’s dress and set-in belt were by Highlander, the cardigan of Fleming-Joffe leather, the handbag by Roger Model, jewellery by Peladan with Bryans stockings inside Aimont red shoes.  Vogue however got the car wrong in captioning the picture: “Ford's creamy, brand-new, limited-edition Thunderbird Landau.  It's turned out in such small numbers that each car has a number; all are a cool cream-white, inside and out, roofed, carpeted and accented in warm tones of rosy beige.”  The Limited Edition Landaus had the Rose Beige upholstery while the car in the photo-shoot was a regular production model.  The other curiosity is a smiling model, a rare sight in fashion photography where the usual expression is the “studied neutral” which catwalk models are trained to use.  

The connection to European royalty had obvious sales appeal but Ford’s motivation was pragmatic, sales of the “Bullet Bird” (the nickname an allusion to the projectile-like lines) having declined in 1962 and with it being common knowledge a new version was scheduled for 1964, what was needed was something to stimulate demand, thus the conjuring up of a “package”, a tactic on which the industry would increasingly come to rely.  This choice of a “Monaco” theme was to take advantage of Ford Falcons competing in that year’s Monte Carlo Road Rally (one Falcon would win its class) and the principality was thus used as the location for the photo-shoot for that year’s mid season (the so-called “1963-½” cars) publicity campaign including the Galaxie 500 XL Sports Hardtop, Fairlane Sports Coupe and Falcon Hardtop; having a prince and princess associated with the fanciest Ford of all was icing on the gingerbread.  While all the Ford’s shipped to Monaco to be photographed for what was dubbed the “Ford Command Performance campaign” were variously red, white or blue, the princess’s preferred beige was seen because Ford also sent one Sandshell Beige Falcon Squire Station Wagon; converted to a ambulance, it was donated to the Red Cross to be used during the running of the rally.

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.