Booby

Booby (pronounced boo-bee)

(1) A bird, a gannet of the genus Sula, having a bright bill, bright feet, or both; some are listed as threatened or endangered.

(2) A slang term for someone thought stupid or a dunce, ignorant or foolish (although still used in the mid-twentieth century, it's probably now obsolete, the meaning crowded out by intrusion of newer slang, some of which has also fallen victim to the linguistic treadmill).

(3) The losing player in a game (the historic UK usage "booby prize", now largely obsolete except in informal use).

(4) One of the many slang terms for the human female's breasts and related to the more common boob, boobs and boobie.

(5) In croquet, a ball that has not passed through the first wicket. 

1590s: From Spanish Latin from the earlier pooby, apparently a blend of (the now obsolete in this context) poop (to befool) and baby, perhaps by association with Spanish bobo (stupid person, slow bird), thought to be from an imitative root of the Latin balbus (stuttering).  Balbus was from the primitive Indo-European balb- & balbal- (tongue-tied) and was cognate with the Ancient Greek βαμβαίνω (bambaínō) & βαμβαλύζω (bambalúzō) (I chatter with the teeth), the Russian болтать (boltatʹ) (to chatter, to babble), the Lithuanian balbė́ti (to talk, to babble), the Sanskrit बल्बला (balbalā) (stammering) and the Albanian belbët (stammering).  The booby prize dates from 1883, a prize given to the loser in a game as concept which persists in some sporting competitions as "the wooden spoon", the idea being something as removed as possible from the usual silverware given as trophies.  The booby trap was first noted in 1850, originally a schoolboy prank (ie something only a "boob" would fall for); the more lethal sense developed during World War I and remain common military and para-military use.  Booby and boobyism are nouns, boobyish and (the non-standard but potentially useful)  boobyesque are adjectives; the noun plural is boobies.

Boobies: found usually in pairs

A nice pair of boobies.  Charmingly, blue-footed boobies are known to be monogamous, pairs often staying together for life.

A booby is a seabird in the genus Sula, part of the Sulidae family. Boobies are closely related to the gannets (Morus), which were formerly included in Sula, the genus created in 1760 by the French naturalist Mathurin Jacques Brisson (1723-1806).  The name is derived from súla, the Old Norse and Icelandic word for the other member of the family Sulidae, the gannet.  The English name booby was based on the Spanish bobo (stupid) as the tame birds often landed on board sailing ships, where they were easily captured and eaten.  As well as a popular addition to the diet of sailors for whom meat other than fish was a rarity, it was fortuitous for many, the Admiralty's archives revealing boobies are often mentioned as having been caught and eaten by shipwrecked sailors.  In taxonomic classification, variations include Abbott's booby (Papasula abbotti), blue-footed booby (Sula nebouxii), brown booby (Sula leucogaster), masked booby (Sula dactylatra), Nazca booby (Sula granti), Peruvian booby (Sula variegata), red-footed booby (Sula sula) & Tasman booby (Sula dactylatra tasmani).

One step at a time.

The distinctive blue feet (the result of pigments ingested from their diet of fish) also play a part in the bobby’s mating ritual although not exactly in the podophilic sense familiar in a sub-set of humans.  In the spring mating season, the bird’s feet become a bright turquoise blue and, to demonstrate their health and vitality conspicuously they will display them to potential partners.  The job done, as their eggs hatch, the blue hue fades to something less vivid.  One aspect of their behaviour which amused the ornithologists who first observed it was that if among fishers unloading their catch, it tossed a small fish from the by-catch, a booby will take it and waddled off somewhere to enjoy it in solitude rather than gulping it down as in common in many species.  Like penguins, although ungainly on land, they are skilled plunge divers which used their streamlined bodies and air sacs “fly” through the water, catching their prey at high speed and they hunt in "packs", coordinating their movement to maximize the catch.  Boobies have been recorded diving from as high as 90 m (300 feet), their speed upon entry estimated at around 100 km/h (60 mph).

Boobies in time, in step.

Based on the use by mainstream internet sites (including nominally reputable news organizations), boob (more commonly in the plural as boobs) seems to have emerged as the preferred slang for breasts, probably because it seems the term women find most acceptable and the one they most often use, not infrequently as their default descriptor.  The origin appears to lie in bubby (plural bubbies), a slang term for the female breast dating from the 1680s which is thought to be imitative of a baby's cry or the sucking sound heard during lactation.  It was most associated with south-east England although that may reflect more extensive documentation rather than proof of regionalism.  Inherently anyway a form in oral use, the alternative pronunciations included buhb-ee, boo-bee & boob-ee so the evolution to boob was perhaps not unexpected although most dictionaries list the earliest known instance as a late 1930s Americanism with the back-formed clippings boob & boobs not appearing until the early post-war years, initially as a vulgarism, women not embracing use for decades although that their approval seems to have coincided with late second-wave feminism is presumably coincidental.

Fully loaded: Lindsay Lohan in boobie-top with crash helmet in Herbie: Fully Loaded (2005).

In fashion, the boobie top (less commonly as booby-top) is a style of clothing (including dresses) which in some way draws attention to or emphasizes the breasts.  The design is most associated with generous displays of cleavage or skin but is used also to refer to garments which wholly cover the breasts in such as way as to highlight the size, shape or movement.  In the industry, a “boobie top” differs from a “boob tube” in that while the former seeks to highlight the breasts as a feature (either by using the fabric tightly to shift the focus to the size and shape or with a cut which displays the cleavage component of the décolletage) while a “boob tube” is a different interpretation of the minimalist: it completely envelopes the breasts (ie little or no visible cleavage) but otherwise exposes the torso.

A “tube top” in the original style (left) and a “boob tube” (right), both now likely to be advertised as a “boob tube”.

The style was in 1972 first described as a “tube-top” (strapless and extend from the armpits to the naval; such garments had earlier been available but the name was new) and the companion “tube skirt” appeared the next season (again, a re-labeling).  The first “boob tubes” were advertised in 1977 and the early were all a truncated version of the “tube top” in that they wrapped only around the breasts); inherently it was a midriff-baring creation and could be thought of as a kind of strapless, bandeau bra designed for outdoor wear (on warmer days).  Constructed with elasticized fabrics, they were designed to be worn without a bra but, like all forms of structural engineering, physics does limit what's possible and they came later to be available also with a “built in bra”.  Others just choose boob tubes made with a thicker material so a strapless bra unobtrusively could be worn beneath but, VBS (visible bra-straps) no longer being a sin against fashion, some now choose a to make the bra part of the look.  In truth, the terms “tube top” & “boob tube” were all a bit misleading because it was only the material covering the breasts which tended toward a truly tubular bra with the rest being more or less flat and a better description might have been “flange” but this wouldn’t have had the same appeal in a boutique so “tubes” they became.  In product descriptions, the distinction between “tube top” and “boob tube” quickly became blurred and the latter tends now often to be used of both types. 

US Army booby trap messaging, 1942.  Such infections have for centuries been a significant part of military medicine because STIs often would reduce unit strength (ie "battle-ready" troops).

During World War II (1939-1945), the US military kept up with evolution of slang, something reflected in advertising which lent a new definition to "booby trap", a familiar concept in which soldiers were well-drilled.  Despite the efforts of padres, it was rare for commanders to attempt to impose morality and when on deployment it was common for there to be "authorized" brothels (often separate facilities for officers and other ranks) with the prostitutes subject to regular inspection by medical staff and allowed to practice their ancient profession only if the supervising doctor issued a "clean" certificate.  Until well into the twentieth century (and the beginning of the antibiotic era), it wasn't unusual for the losses of combat-ready troops to illness & disease to exceed those caused by battlefield causalities and although the numbers were dwarfed by conditions such as malaria, preventing and treating sexually transmitted diseases (STDs, then called venereal disease (VD)) was an important component of military medicine.  It wasn’t until the 1970s the initialism VD began to be replaced by STD (VD thought to have to have gained too many specific associations) but fortunately for AT&T, in 1951 they renamed their STD (Subscriber Toll Dialing) service (for long-distance phone calls) to DDD (Direct Distance Dialing), apparently for no better reason than the alliterative appeal although it's possible they just wanted to avoid mentioning “toll” with all that implies.  Many countries in the English-speaking world continued to use STD for the phone calls, even after the public health specialists had re-purposed the initialization.  In clinical use, STI (Sexually Transmitted Infection) seems now the preferred term.

The other booby trap: Helpful advertising circa 1950.

In Western legal systems, two aspects of consumer protection which greatly advanced in the twentieth century were product liability and “truth in advertising”.  What the changes in product liability did was break the nexus of “privity of contract”, meaning it was no longer required that to seek redress or compensation, an injured party had to be the purchaser of the defective goods.  That reform took shape during the inter-war years but “truth in advertising”, although an old concept enforced in contract law, really became a movement in the post-war years; it was designed to remove from commerce “deceptive or misleading” claims although advertising agencies still had a wide scope to be “economical with the truth” if they could make their assertions fit into the “mere puffery” rubric.  One field never policed was women’s shapewear (corsets and such) which, with a judicious placement of struts, elasticized panels, ribs and padding could variously make body parts appear curvier, straighter, smaller, larger or higher.  The Wonderbra (and its many imitators) was probably the best known example because among the many garments and devices it was the one which most dramatically deceived and misled.  Of all this trickery the law remained silent and the sage advice remained: caveat emptor.

Anagoge

Anagoge (pronounced an-uh-goh-jee)

(1) The spiritual or mystical interpretation of a word or passage beyond the literal, allegorical or moral sense (especially in Biblical criticism); A form of allegorical interpretation of Scripture that seeks hidden meanings regarding the future life.

(2) A spiritual interpretation or application of words (following the tradition with the Scriptures.

(3) In psychology, deriving from, pertaining to, or reflecting the moral or idealistic striving of the unconscious.

(4) The mystical interpretation or hidden sense of words.

1350-1400: From the Middle English anagoge, from the Late Latin anagōgē, from the Medieval Latin anagōgia & anagogicus from the Ancient Greek ἀναγωγή (anagōgḗ) (elevation; an uplifting; spiritual or mystical enlightenment), the construct being an- (up) + agōgḗ (feminine of agōgós) (leading), from anagein (to lead up, lift up), the construct being ana- (up) + agein (to lead, put in motion) from the primitive Indo-European root ag- (to drive, draw out or forth, move).  In theology, the adjective anagogical was from the early sixteenth century the more commonly used form, explaining the ways in which passages from Scripture had a “secondary, spiritual sense”.  The idea of a “spiritual, hidden, allegorical or mystical meaning” spread to literature and other fields where it operates as a special form of allegorical interpretation.  The alternative spelling is anagogy.  Anagoge is a noun, anagogic & anagogical are adjectives and anagogically is an adverb; the noun plural is anagoges.

Portrait of Percy Bysshe Shelley at the Baths of Caracalla, depicted writing Prometheus Unbound, oil on canvas, painted posthumously Joseph Severn (1793–1879), Rome, Italy, 1845.

In literary analysis, there does seem a fondness for classifying methods into groups of fours.  Thomas Love Peacock (1785–1866) was an English novelist and poet but despite a background in literature and little else, through family connections he was in 1819 appointed an administrator in the East India Company (which “sort of” ran British India in the years before the Raj).  It was an example of the tradition of “amateurism” much admired by the British establishment, something which didn’t survive the harsher economic realities of the late twentieth century although some still affect the style.  Despite being untrained in such matters, his career with the company was long and successful so he must have had a flair for the business although his duties were not so onerous as to preclude him from continuing to write both original compositions and works of literary analysis.  In 1820 he published Four Ages of Poetry which was regarded as a “provocative” and although a serious critique, the tone was whimsical, poetry classified into four periods: iron, gold, silver & brass.  His friend Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822) understood the satire but seems to have been appalled anyone would treat his art with such flippancy, quickly penning the retaliatory essay Defence of Poetry although the text was unfinished and remained unpublished until 1840, almost two decades after his death.  It’s remembered now for its final sentence: “Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.”  With that, the few thousand souls on the planet who buy (and presumably read) poetry collections might concur but for the many more who can’t tell the difference between a masterpiece and trite doggerel, it may sound either a conceit or a threat.

Peacock not treating poets and their oeuvre which what they believed was due reverence left a mark and while Shelly died before he could finish his reply, more than a century later the English poet & academic literary I.A. Richards (1893–1979) in Science and Poetry (1926) still was moved to defend the poetic turf.  Although approvingly quoting the words of English poet (and what would now be called a “social commentator”) Matthew Arnold (1822–1888): “The future of poetry is immense, because in poetry, where it is worthy of its high destinies, our race, as time goes on, will find an ever surer and surer stay.  There is not a creed which is not shaken, not an accredited dogma which is not shown to be questionable, not a received tradition which does not threaten to dissolve.  Our religion has materialized itself in the fact, in the supposed fact; it has attached its emotion to the fact, and now the fact is failing it.  But for poetry the idea is everything.”, he nevertheless admitted “Extraordinary claims have often been made for poetry…”  Tellingly too, he acknowledged those claims elicited from many “astonishment” and the “more representative modern view” of the future of poetry would be that it’s “nil”.  Modern readers could decide for themselves whether that was as bleak as Peacock’s conclusion: “A poet in our times is a semi-barbarian in a civilized community.  He lives in the days that are past... In whatever degree poetry is cultivated, it must necessarily be to the neglect of some branch of useful study and it is a lamentable thing to see minds, capable of better things, tunning to seed in the spacious indolence of these empty aimless mockeries of intellectual exertion.”  Take that poets.

Peacock's second novel was the Regency-era three volume novel Melincourt (1817).  It was an ambitious work which explored issues as diverse as slavery, aspects of democracy and potential for currency destabilization inherent in the issue of paper money.  Another theme was the matter of differentiating between human beings and other animals, a central character being Sir Oran Haut-ton, an exquisitely mannered, musically gifted orangutan standing for election to the House of Commons.  The idea was thus of “an animal mimicking humanity” and the troubled English mathematician Dr Alan Turing (1912–1954) read Melincourt in 1948, some twelve months before he published a paper which included his “imitation game” (which came to be called the “Turing test”).  Turing was interested in “a machine mimicking humanity” and what the test involved was a subject reading the transcript of a natural-language conversation between a human and a machine, the object being to guess which interlocutor was the machine.  The test was for decades an element in AI (artificial intelligence) research and work on “natural language” computer interfaces but the field became a bit of a minefield because it was so littered with words like “feelings”, learning”, “thinking” and “consciousness”, the implications of which saw many a tangent followed.  Of course, by the 2020s the allegation bots like ChatGPT and character.ai have been suggesting their interlocutors commit suicide means it may be assumed that, at least for some subjects, the machine may have assumed a convincing human-like demeanour.  The next great step will be in the matter of thinking, feelings and consciousness when bio-computers are ready to be tested.  Bio-computers are speculative hybrids which combine what digital hardware is good at (storage, retrieval, computation etc) with a biological unit emulating a brain (good at thinking, imagining and, maybe, attaining self-awareness and thus consciousness).

Westminster Bridge And Abbey (1813), oil on canvas by William Daniell (1769–1837).

There’s more than one way to read Richards and it may be tacitly he accepted poetry had become something which would be enjoyed by an elite while others could spend their lives in ignorance of its charms, citing the sonnet Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 by William Wordsworth (1770–1850) as an experience for “the right kind of reader”.  So there it is: those who don’t enjoy poetry are the “wrong” kind of reader so to help the “right kind of reader”, Richards also came up with a foursome.  In Practical Criticism (1929) he listed the “four different meanings in a poem”: (1) the sense (what actually is said, (2) feeling (the writer's emotional attitude to what they have written), (3) tone (the writer's attitude towards their reader and (4) intention (the writer's purpose, the effect they seek to achieve).

A vision from Dante's Inferno: The Fifth Circle (1587) by Stradanus (1523-1605)), depicting Virgil and Dante on the River Styx in the fifth circle of Hell where the wrathful are for eternity condemned to splash around on the surface, fighting each other.  Helping the pair cross is the infernal ferryman Phlegyas.  Stradanus was one of the many names under which the Flemish artist Jan van der Straet painted, the others including Giovanni della Strada, Johannes della Strada, Giovanni Stradano, Johannes Stradano, Giovanni Stradanus, Johannes Stradanus, Jan van Straeten & Jan van Straten.

In literary theory, anagoge is one the classic “four levels of meaning” and while there is no consensus about the origins of the four, it’s clear there was an awareness of them manifest in the Middle Ages.  It was Dante (Dante Alighieri (circa 1265–1321)) in his Epistola a Cangrande (Epistle XIII to Cangrande della Scala (described usually as Epistle to Cangrande)) who most clearly explained the operation of the four.  Written in Latin sometime before 1343, the epistle was the author’s letter to his patron Cangrande della Scala (1291–1329), an Italian aristocrat and scion of the family which ruled Verona between 1308-1387; it was a kind of executive summary of the Divina Commedia (Divine Comedy (circa 1310-1321)) and an exposition of its structure.  Dante suggested the work could be analysed in four ways which he distinguished as (1) the literal or historical meaning, (2) the moral meaning, and (3) the allegorical meaning and (4) the anagogical.

Among scholars of Dante the epistle is controversial, not for the content but the matter of authenticity, not all agreeing it was he who wrote the texts, the academic factions dividing thus: (1) Dante wrote it all, (2) Dante wrote none of it and (3) Dante wrote the dedication to his patron but the rest of the text is from the hand of another and it’s left open whether that content reflected the thoughts of Dante as expressed to the mysterious scribe or it was wholly the creation of the “forger”.  Even AI (artificial intelligence) tools have been used (a textual analysis of the epistle, Divine Comedy and other material verified to have been written by Dante) and while the process produced a “probability index”, the findings seemed not to shift factional alignments.  Dante’s authorship is of course interesting but the historical significance of the “four levels of meaning” concept endures in literary theory regardless of the source.

First edition of The Pilgrim's Progress (1678) by John Bunyan (1628–1688).

So the critics agreed the anagogical meaning of a text was its spiritual, hidden, or mystical meaning so anagoge (or anagogy) was a special form of allegorical interpretation.  Whether it should be thought a subset or fork of allegory did in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries trouble some who argued the anagogue was a wholly separate layer of meaning if the subject was biblical or otherwise religious but merely a type of allegorical interpretation if applied to something secular; that’s a debate unlikely to be staged now.  However, given the apparent overlap between anagogical and allegorical, just which should be used may seem baffling, especially if the work to which the concept is being applied has a religious flavor.  There is in the Bible much allegory (something which seems sometimes lost on the latter-day literalists among the US Republican Party’s religious right-wing) but only some can be said truly to be anagogic and although the distinction can at the margins become blurred, that’s true also of other devotional literature.  The distinction is more easily observed of less abstract constructions such John Bunyan in The Pilgrim's Progress calling his protagonist “Christian”, the choice not merely a name but symbolic of the Christian soul’s journey to salvation, hinted at by the book’s full title being The Pilgrim's Progress from This World, to That Which Is to Come.  For something to be judged anagogical, the text needs to look beyond the literal and moral senses to its ultimate, transcendent, or eschatological significance, illustrated by applying the four-fold technique (literal, moral, allegorical & anagogical) to the biblical description of Jerusalem which deconstructs as: (1) Literal (the actual physical city in history), (2) Allegorical (the Church), (3) Moral (the soul striving to find a path to God and (4) Anagogical (the heavenly Jerusalem, the final destiny of those humanity who kept the faith).  The point of the anagoge was thus one of ultimate destiny or divine fulfilment: heaven, salvation, forgiveness and eternal life.

Anagoge (pronounced an-uh-goh-jee) should not be confused with Anna Gogo (pronounced an-uh-goh-goh), a chartered engineer at Red Earth Engineering (left) or Anna Go-Go (pronounced An-uh-goh-goh), the persona of the proprietor of Anna's Go-Go Academy (a go-go dancing school) (right).  Ms Go-Go is also a self-described “crazy cat lady” and the author of Cat Lady Manifesto (2024); she is believed to be on J.D. Vance’s (b 1984; US vice president since 2025) enemies list.  Note the armchair's doilies, a cat lady favorite.

That does not however mean the anagogical is of necessity teleological.  Teleology was from the New Latin teleologia a construct from the Ancient Greek τέλος (télos) (purpose; end, goal, result) genitive τέλεος (téleos) (end; entire, perfect, complete) + λόγος (lógos) (word, speech, discourse).  In philosophy, it was the study of final causes; the doctrine that final causes exist; the belief that certain phenomena are best explained in terms of purpose rather than cause (a moral theory that maintains that the rightness or wrongness of actions solely depends on their consequences is called a teleological theory).  The implications which could be found in that attracted those in fields as diverse as botany & zoology (interested in the idea purpose is a part of or is apparent in nature) and creationists (anxious to find evidence of design or purpose in nature and especially prevalent in the cult of ID (intelligent design), a doctrine which hold there is evidence of purpose or design in the universe and especially that this provides proof of the existence of a designer (ie how to refer to God without using the “G-word”)).  Rationalists (and even some who were somewhere on the nihilism spectrum) accepted the way the phrase was used in philosophy & biology but thought the rest weird.  It was fine to accept Aristotle’s (384-322 BC) point the eye exists for the purpose of allowing creatures to see or that it’s reasonable to build a theory like utilitarianism which judges actions by the outcomes or goals achieved but to suggest what is life of earth is an end, purpose, or goal which can be explained only as the work of a “creator” was ultimately just “making stuff up”.  So to reductionists (1) the allegorical was “means something else”, (2) the anagogical was “points upward to our ultimate spiritual destiny” and (3) the teleological was “explained by its end or purpose”.

Although long in the toolbox of theologians & Biblical scholars, anagogical analysis became an element for critics of poetry and, as the post-modernists taught us, everything is text so it can be applied to anything.  One case-study popular in teaching was George Orwell’s (1903-1950) Animal Farm (1945) and that’s because there’s a interesting C&C (compare & contrast) exercise in working out the anagoge first in Orwell’s original book and then in the film versions distributed in post-war Europe, the fun in that being the film rights were purchased by the US CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) which prevailed upon the makers to alter the ending so the capitalist class didn’t look so bad.  By conventional four-way analysis, Animal Farm traditionally is broken down as (1) Literal meaning: A tale of the revolt of the animals against their human overlords, and the outcome of that revolt, (2) Moral meaning: Power tends to corrupt'; (c) Allegorical meaning: Major=comrade Lenin; Napoleon=comrade Stalin; Snowball=Comrade Trotsky; Jones=corrupt capitalist owners of the means of production & distribution.

The Canyons, Cinema Poster.

Although theologians and literary critics alike prefer to apply their analytical skills to material densely packed with obscure meanings and passages impenetrable to most, their techniques yield results with just about any text, even something as deliberately flat and affectless like The Canyons (Paul Schrader’s (b 1946) film of 2013 with a screenplay by Bret Easton Ellis (b 1964)) one intriguing aspect of which was naming a central character “Christian” although unlike Bunyan’s (1628–1688) worthy protagonist seeking salvation in The Pilgrim's Progress, Ellis’s creation was an opportunistic, nihilistic, manipulative sociopath.  The author seems never to have discussed any link between the two Christians, one on a path to salvation, the other mid-descent into a life of drugs, sex, and violence.  It may be it was just too mischievously tempting to borrow the name of one of Christendom’s exemplars of redemption and use it for so figure so totally amoral and certainly it was a fit with the writer’s bleak view of Hollywood.  Structurally, the parallels were striking, Bunyan’s Christian trekking from the City of Destruction to Celestial City whereas Ellis has his character not seeking salvation but remaining in Hollywood on his own path of destruction, affecting both those around him and ultimately him too.  In interviews, Ellis said he chose the name after reading the E. L. James (b 1963) novel Fifty Shades of Grey (2011) in which Christian Grey was a central character and The Canyons does share more contemporary cultural touch-points with the novel than with Bunyan’s work.

A Lindsay Lohan GIF from The Canyons.

(1) Literal or Historical Meaning (a trust-fund movie producer exercises control over his girlfriend while being entangled in transactional and destructive relationships with others in a decadent Hollywood; (2) Moral Meaning: Christian’s controlling, voyeuristic cruelty and his girlfriend’s compromises illustrate the corrosion of moral agency induced by narcissism and a superficial, consumerist culture); (3) Allegorical Meaning (The Canyons is built as a microcosm of what Hollywood is imagined to be, Christian representing the ruthless producer; Tara the girlfriend as the powerless talent unable to escape from a web of exploitation and other characters as collateral damage.  The shuttered cinemas in inter-cut shots serve as allegory for the death of cinema, replaced by shallow, formulaic “product”; the film ultimately less about the two-dimensional characters than the descent of a culture to a moral wasteland and (4) Anagogical Meaning (The film is an eschatology of cultural decay; art corrupted by money, leaving something alive but spiritually dead, something which some choose to map onto late-stage capitalism sustained by atomized, voyeuristic consumption with human life cast adrift from moral responsibility or even its recognition).  Of course for moral theologians accustomed to dancing on the heads of pins, an anagogical viewing of The Canyons might allow one to see some hint of something redemptive and the more optimistic might imagine it as a kind of warning of what may be rather than what is, encouraging us to resist in the hope of transcendence.  That’s quite a hope for a place depicted as owing something to what’s found in Dante’s nine circles.

Houndstooth

Houndstooth (pronounced houns-tuth)

(1) A two-colour fabric pattern of broken checks (multi-color versions using the pattern do now exist and are also so-described).

(2) Fabric with a houndstooth pattern; an item of clothing made with such fabric.

(3) In botany, as Cynoglossum officinale (houndstongue, houndstooth, dog's tongue, gypsy flower (and “rats and mice” due to its smell), a herbaceous plant of the family Boraginaceae.

1936: A word, based on the appearance of the design, the pattern (in architecture, decorative art, fabric etc) is ancient but the descriptive term “houndstooth” has been in use only since 1936.  The shape is sometimes referred to as dogstooth (or dog's tooth) and in French it’s the more pleasing pied-de-poule (chicken feet), preferred also by the Italians.  In 1936 there must have been pedants who insisted it should have been “hound's tooth” because that does appear in some advertisements but in commercial use, houndstooth quickly was standardized.  The name was chosen a reference directly to a dog’s tooth, not the pattern of teeth marks left by its bite.  The construct was hounds + tooth.  Hound was from the Middle English hound, from the Old English hund, from the Proto-West Germanic hund, from the Proto-Germanic hundaz and was congnate with the West Frisian hûn, the Dutch hond, the Luxembourgish Hond, the German Hund, the German Low German Hund, the Danish hund, the Faroese hundur, the Icelandic hundur, the Norwegian Bokmål hund, the Norwegian Nynorsk hund and the Swedish hund, from the pre-Germanic ḱuntós (which may be compared with the Latvian sùnt-ene (big dog), an enlargement of the primitive Indo-European ḱwṓ (dog).  Elsewhere, the forms included the Old Irish cú (dog), the Tocharian B ku, the Lithuanian šuõ, the Armenian շուն (šun), and the Russian сука (suka)).  

In England, as late as the fourteenth century, “hound” remained the word in general use to describe most domestic canines while “dog” was used of a sub-type resembling the modern mastiff and bulldog.  By the sixteenth century, dog had displaced hound as the general word descriptor. The latter coming to be restricted to breeds used for hunting and in the same era, the word dog was adopted by several continental European languages as their word for mastiff.  Dog was from the Middle English dogge (source also of the Scots dug (dog)), from the Old English dogga & docga of uncertain origin.  Interestingly, the original sense appears to have been of a “common dog” (as opposed one well-bred), much as “cur” was later used and there’s evidence it was applied especially to stocky dogs of an unpleasing appearance.  Etymologists have pondered the origin:  It may have been a pet-form diminutive with the suffix -ga (the similar models being compare frocga (frog) & picga (pig), appended to a base dog-, or doc-(the origin and meaning of these unclear). Another possibility is Old English dox (dark, swarthy) (a la frocga from frog) while some have suggested a link to the Proto-West Germanic dugan (to be suitable), the origin of Old English dugan (to be good, worthy, useful), the English dow and the German taugen; the theory is based on the idea that it could have been a child’s epithet for dogs, used in the sense of “a good or helpful animal”.  Few support that and more are persuaded there may be some relationship with docce (stock, muscle), from the Proto-West Germanic dokkā (round mass, ball, muscle, doll), from which English gained dock (stumpy tail).  In fourteenth century England, hound (from the Old English hund) was the general word applied to all domestic canines while dog referred to some sub-types (typically those close in appearance to the modern mastiff and bulldog.  In German, the form endures as der Hund (the dog) & die Hunde (the dogs) and the houndstooth pattern is Hahnentritt.  Houndstooth is a noun; the noun plural is houndsteeth.  Strictly speaking, it may be that certain use of the plural (such as several houndstooth jackets) should be called “houndstooths” but this is an ugly word which should be avoided and no sources seem to list it as standard.  The same practice seems to have been adopted for handing the plural of cars called “Statesman”, “statesmen” seeming just an absurdity.

Although the classic black & white remains the industry staple, designer colors are now not uncommon.

In modern use in English, a “hound” seems to be thought of as a certain sort of dog, usually large, with a finely honed sense of smell and used (often in packs) for hunting and the sense development may also have been influenced by the novel The Hound of the Baskervilles (1901-1902) by the physician Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (1859–1930).  The best regarded of Conan Doyle’s four novels, it’s set in the gloomy fog of Dartmoor in England’s West Country and is the tale of the search for a “fearsome, diabolical hound of supernatural origin”.  The author's name is an example of how conventions of use influence things.  He's long been referred to as “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle” or “Conan Doyle” which would imply the surname “Conan Doyle” but his surname was “Doyle” and he was baptized with the Christian names “Arthur Ignatius Conan”, the “Conan” from his godfather.  Some academic and literary libraries do list him as “Doyle” but he's now referred to almost universally as “Conan Doyle” and the name “Arthur Doyle” would be as un-associated with him as “George Shaw” would with George Bernard Shaw (GBS; 1856-1950).  Conan Doyle's most famous creation was of course the detective Sherlock Holmes and he wore a houndstooth deerstalker cap.   Tooth (a hard, calcareous structure present in the mouth of many vertebrate animals, generally used for biting and chewing food) was from the Middle English tothe, toth & tooth, from the Old English tōþ (tooth), from the Proto-West Germanic tanþ, from the Proto-Germanic tanþs (tooth), from the primitive Indo-European h₃dónts (tooth) and related to tusk.

Lindsay Lohan in monochrome check jacket, Dorchester Hotel, London, June 2017 (left), Lindsay Lohan in L.A.M.B. Lambstooth Sweater, Los Angeles, April 2005 (centre) and racing driver Sir Lewis Hamilton (b 1985) in a Burberry Houndstooth ensemble, Annual FIA Prize Giving Ceremony, Baku, Azerbaijan, December 2023 (right).  The Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (the FIA; the International Automobile Federation) is world sport's dopiest regulatory body.  Although, at a distance, a wide range of fabrics look like houndstooth, some are really simple symmetrical, monochrome checks without the distinctive pattern and where designers have varied the shape, other descriptors (and L.A.M.B. couldn’t resist “lambstooth”) are used, something which helps also with product differentiation.  Sir Lewis though, sticks to the classics.  Regarded as the most fashion conscious of the Formula One drivers of his generation, it’s clear that assiduously he studies Lohanic fashion directions.

Designers consider houndstooth part of the plaid “family”, the jagged contours of the shape the point of differentiation from most which tend towards uniform, straight lines.  Although for the archaeological record its clear the concept of the design has an ancient lineage, what’s now thought of as the “classic” black & white houndstooth was defined in the mid-nineteenth century when it began to be produced at scale in the Scottish lowlands, in parallel with the plaid most associated with the culture, the tartan (although in some aspects the “history & cultural traditions” of tartan were a bit of a commercial construct).  Technically, a houndstooth is a two tone (the term monochrome often used in the industry to convey the idea of “black & white” (a la photography) rather than being etymologically accurate) plaid in four bands, two of each color (in both the weft & warp weave), woven with the simple 2:2 twill.  One of the charms of the design is that with slight variations in size and scale, different effects can be achieved and color mixes are now not uncommon although the classic black & white remains the standard.

Houndstooth has received the imprimatur of more than one Princess of Wales: Catherine, Princess of Wales (b 1982, left) and Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-1997, right) in a typically daring color mix.

The history in the Lowlands is murky but it seems certain the early fabrics were woven from wool which makes sense given the importance of sheep to the economy and the early garments were utilitarian, often cloak-like outer garments for those tending the flocks.  The early term was “shepherd’s check” which became first “dogstooth” and then “houndstooth”, canine teeth something with which shepherds would have been familiar because of the threat to their animals from the predations of wild dogs.  Fabric with smaller checks could be called “puppycheck”.  Interestingly, despite its striking appearance, the houndstooth pattern remained a generic and was never adopted as a family or clan symbol, a la the tartans.  It gained a new popularity in the 1930s when photographs began to appear of members of the British royal family and various gentry wearing houndstooth jackets while hunting or riding, thus the association with wealth and privilege which so appealed to the middle class who started wearing them too.  By the time designers began to put them on the catwalks, houndstooth’s future was assured.

1969 Holden Monaro GTS 350 (left), 1972 Holden Monaro GTS 308 (centre) and 1977 Chrysler Cordoba (right).

Despite the popular perception, not all the “personal luxury” Chryslers of the era and not even all the Cordobas (1975-1983) were finished in “Rich Corinthian Leather”; except for a one-off appearance in the 1975 Imperial Brochures, the Corinthian hides were exclusive to the Cordoba.  For passenger car interiors, houndstooth (rendered usually with a synthetic material) enjoyed a late mid-century spate of popularity, used for what were called generically “cloth inserts” and the use of houndstooth trended towards vehicles marketed as “sporty” whereas for luxury cars plusher fabrics like velour were preferred.  The cloth inserts were usually paired with vinyl although in some more expensive ranges they were used with leather.

Houndstooth (left), Pepita (Shepherd's Check) (centre) and Vichy Check (right).

For decades, it’s been common to refer to the optional upholstery offered by Porsche in the 1960s as “houndstooth” but according to Recaro Automotive Seating, the German concern which supplied the fabric, the correct name is “Pepita” (known also as “Shepherd’s Check”), a design built with interconnected squares.  What has happened is that “houndstooth” has for most purposes in colloquial English become a generic term, used to describe anything “houndstoothesque” and it’s an understandable trend given that not only would a close examination be required to determine which pattern appears on a fabric, unless one is well-acquainted with the differences in shape, most would be none the wiser.  Nor did Recaro use “Vichy Check” for the seats they trimmed for Porsche although that erroneous claim too is sometimes made.  Further confusing the history, when Stuttgarter Karosseriewerk Reutter (Porsche’s original supplier) started production of seats used in the Porsche 356 (1948-1965) a number of fabrics were offered including one in nylon in a similar black-and-white pattern which was neither Houndstooth nor Pepita.

1967 Porsche 911S, trimmed in Recaro Pepita.

The Reutter family founded Recaro in 1963 and in December that year the first Pepita pattern fabrics were made commercially available, used on the later Porsche 356Cs, the 911 (which briefly was called the 901) & the 912.  Porsche’s best known use of the pepita fabric was on the Recaro Sportsitz (Sport seat), first displayed at the 1965 Frankfurt Motor Show and they’re a prized part of the early 911S models, the first of which were delivered in the northern summer of 1966.  At that point, the Pepita fabric became a factory option for the 911 and the last use was in the Recaro Idealsitz (Ideal seat), offered only in 1970–71 in black & white, red & beige, brown & beige and blue & green.  In a nostalgic nod, Porsche returned Pepita seats to the option list for the 911 legacy model, released in 2013 to mark the car’s 50^th anniversary although Recaro was not involved in the production.

1969 Porsche 912.  The Pepita key-fob, sun visors and dashboard trim will appeal to some.

The factory at the time didn't apply the Pepita fabric quite so liberally but the originality police seem more indulgent towards departures from specification in 912s, especially if done in a way the factory might have done it; if seen on a 911, automatically, they deduct points.  The Porsche 912 (1965-1969 & (as 912E) 1976) was essentially a four-cylinder version of the 911 with less standard equipment and the early models used a version of the air-cooled flat-four from the superseded 356 (1948-1965).  It was highly successful (initially out-selling the much more expensive, six-cylinder, 911) and production ceased only because the factory’s capacity was needed for the new 914 (1969-1976) which, being mid-engined, Porsche believed was a harbinger for its future sports cars, there being little belief the rear-engine configuration would endure into the 1980s.  However, the customer always being right, things didn’t work out that way and, still in high demand, the rear-engined 911 has already entered the second quarter of the twenty-first century.  The 912E was a single-season “stop-gap model” for the US market to provide an entry-level Porsche between the end of 914 production and the introduction of the front-engined 924 (1976-1988).  Like the four-cylinder 914s and the early 924s, the 912E used a Volkswagen engine, Porsches old 356 unit having never been made compliant with emission control regulations.  Long something of an orphan, the 912 now has a following and while there are faithful restorations, modifications are not uncommon, many with interior appointment upgraded to include those used on the more expensive 911s.

Matching numbers, matching houndstooth: 1970 Holden HG GTS 350 Monaro in Indy Orange with black detailing (paint combo code 567-122040) and houndstooth cloth seat inserts in Indy Orange & black (trim code 1199-10Z).  This car (VIN: 81837GJ255169; Model: HG81837; Chassis: HG16214M) is one of the most prized Monaros because the specification includes a 350 cubic inch (5.7 litre) small block Chevrolet V8 (L48) with the “McKinnon block”, paired with the four-speed manual Saginaw gearbox.  Holden built 405 HG GTS 350s, 264 as manuals and 141 with the two-speed Powerglide automatic transmission.  The “McKinnon block” is a reference to the General Motors (GM) McKinnon Industries plant in St. Catharine's, Ontario where the engines were built; the “American” cars exported to the UK, Australia, New Zealand and elsewhere in the Commonwealth often came from Canada because of the preferential tariff arrangements.

Very 1970s: GM's Indy Orange houndstooth fabric; in the US it was also offered in the Chevrolet Camaro.

Introduced in 1968, the Holden Monaro was the car which triggered Australia’s brief flirtation with big (in local terms, the cars were “compact” size in US nomenclature) coupés, a fad which would fade away by the mid 1970s.  It had been Ford which had first tested the market with a Falcon two-door hardtop (XM, 1964-1965 & XP, 1965-1966) but when the restyled model was released, it was again based on the US Falcon and the range no longer included a two-door hardtop, the wildly successful Mustang having rendered it unnecessary.  There was still a two-door Falcon sedan but it was thought to have limited appeal in Australia and was never offered so Ford didn’t have a model comparable with the Monaro until the XA Falcon Hardtop made its debut late in 1972 although by then the brief moment had passed.  While the Falcon Hardtop remained successful as a race-car, sales never net expectations, compelling the factory to produce a number of promotional "special models", unchanged in mechanical specification but usually with distinctive paint schemes and "bundled options", the latter at a notional discount.

Quartervent

Quartervent (pronounced kwawr-ter-vent)

A small, pivoted, framed (or semi-framed) pane in the front or rear side-windows of a car, provided to optimize ventilation.

1930s: The construct was quarter + vent.  Dating from the late thirteenth century, the noun quarter (in its numerical sense) was from the Middle English quarter, from the Anglo-Norman quarter, from the Old French quartier, from the Latin quartarius (a Roman unit of liquid measure equivalent to about 0.14 litre).  Quartus was from the primitive Indo-European kweturtos (four) (from which the Ancient Greek gained τέταρτος (tétartos), the Sanskrit चतुर्थ (caturtha), the Proto-Balto-Slavic ketwirtas and the Proto-Germanic fedurþô).  It was cognate to quadrus (square), drawn from the sense of “four-sided”.  The Latin suffix –arius was from the earlier -ās-(i)jo- , the construct being -āso- (from the primitive Indo-European -ehso- (which may be compared with the Hittite appurtenance suffix -ašša-) + the relational adjectival suffix -yós (belonging to).  The suffix (the feminine –āria, the neuter -ārium) was a first/second-declension suffix used to form adjectives from nouns or numerals.  The nominative neuter form – ārium (when appended to nouns), formed derivative nouns denoting a “place where stuff was kept”.  The Middle English verb quarteren, was derivative of the noun.  Dating from the mid fourteenth century, vent was from the Middle English verb venten (to furnish (a vessel) with a vent), a shortened form of the Old French esventer (the construct being es- + -venter), a verbal derivative of vent, from the Latin ventus (wind), in later use derivative of the English noun.  The English noun was derived partly from the French vent, partly by a shortening of French évent (from the Old French esvent, a derivative of esventer) and partly from the English verb.  The hyphenated form quarter-vent is also used and may be preferable.  Quarter-vent is a noun; the noun plural is quarter-vents.  In use, the action of using the function provided by a quarter-vent obviously can be described with terms like quarter-venting or quarter-vented but no derived forms are recognized as standard.

1959 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz.

Like almost all US passenger cars, the post-war Cadillacs all had quarter-vents (“vent windows” or “ventiplanes” to the Americans) and on the most expensive in the range they were controlled by an electric motor, a feature optional on the lesser models.  This was a time when the company's slogan “Standard of the World” really could be taken seriously.  In 1969, with General Motors (GM) phasing in flow-through ventilation, Cadillac deleted the quarter-vents, meaning purchasers no longer had to decide whether to pay the additional cost to have them electrically-activated (a US$71.60 option on the 1968 Calais and De Ville).  GM's early implementation of flow-through ventilation was patchy so the change was probably premature but by 1969 the system was perfected and as good as their air-conditioning (A-C), famous since the 1950s for its icy blast.    

The now close to extinct quarter-vents were small, pivoted, framed (or semi-framed) panes of glass installed in the front or rear side windows of a car or truck; their purpose was to provide occupants with a source of ventilation, using the air-flow of the vehicle while in motion.  The system had all the attributes of other admirable technologies (such as the pencil) in that it was cheap to produce, simple to use, reliable and effective in its intended purpose.  Although not a complex concept, GM in 1932 couldn’t resist giving the things an impressively long name, calling them “No Draft Individually Controlled Ventilation” (NDICV being one of history’s less mnemonic initializations).  GM’s marketing types must have prevailed because eventually the snappier “ventiplanes” was adopted, the same process of rationality which overtook Chrysler in 1969 when the public decided “shaker” was a punchier name for their rather sexy scoop which, attached directly to the induction system and, protruding through a carefully shape lacuna in the hood (bonnet), shook with the engine, delighting the males aged 17-39 to whom it was intended to appeal.  “Shaker” supplanted Chrysler’s original “Incredible Quivering Exposed Cold Air Grabber” (IQECAG another dud); sometimes less is more.  Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) suggested a good title for his book might be Viereinhalb Jahre [des Kampfes] gegen Lüge, Dummheit und Feigheit (Four and a Half Years of Struggle against Lies, Stupidity and Cowardice) but his publisher thought that a bit ponderous and preferred the more succinct Mein Kampf: Eine Abrechnung (My Struggle: A Reckoning) and for publication even that was clipped to Mein Kampf.  Unfortunately, the revised title was the best thing about it, the style and contents truly ghastly and it's long and repetitious, the ideas within able easily to be reduced to a few dozen pages (some suggest fewer but the historical examples cited for context do require some space).

The baroque meets mid-century modernism: 1954 Hudson Italia by Carrozzeria Touring.  

Given how well the things worked, there’s long been some regret at their demise, a process which began in the 1960s with the development of “through-flow ventilation”, the earliest implementation of which seems to have appeared in the Hudson Italia (1954-1955), an exclusive, two-door coupé co-developed by Hudson in Detroit and the Milan-based Italian coachbuilder Carrozzeria Touring.  Although some of the styling gimmicks perhaps haven’t aged well, the package was more restrained than some extravagances of the era and fundamentally, the lines were well-balanced and elegant.  Unfortunately the mechanical underpinnings were uninspiring and the trans-Atlantic production process (even though Italian unit-labor costs were lower than in the US, Touring’s methods were labor-intensive) involved two-way shipping (the platforms sent to Milan for bodies and then returned to the US) so the Italia was uncompetitively expensive: at a time when the bigger and more capable Cadillac Coupe de Ville listed at US$3,995, the Italia was offered for US$4,800 and while it certainly had exclusivity, it was a time when there was still a magic attached to the Cadillac name and of the planned run of 50, only 26 Italias were produced (including the prototype).  Of those, 21 are known still to exist and they’re a fixture at concours d’élégance (a sort of car show for the rich, the term an un-adapted borrowing from the French (literally “competition of elegance”) and the auction circuit where they’re exchanged between collectors for several hundred-thousand dollars per sale.  Although a commercial failure (and the Hudson name would soon disappear), the Italia does enjoy the footnote of being the first production car equipped with what came to be understood as “flow-through ventilation”, provided with a cowl air intake and extraction grooves at the top of the rear windows, the company claiming the air inside an Italia changed completely every ten minutes.  For the quarter-vent, flow-through ventilation was a death-knell although some lingered on until the effective standardization of A-C proved the final nail in the coffin.

1965 Ford Cortina GT with eyeball vents and quarter-vents.

The car which really legitimized flow-through ventilation was the first generation (1962-1966) of the Ford Cortina, produced over four generations (some claim it was five) by Ford’s UK subsidiary between 1962-1982).  When the revised model displayed at the Earls Court Motor Show in October 1964, something much emphasized was the new “Aeroflow”, Ford’s name for through-flow ventilation, the system implemented with “eyeball” vents on the dashboard and extractor vents on the rear pillars.  Eyeball vents probably are the best way to do through-flow ventilation but the accountants came to work out they were more expensive to install than the alternatives so less satisfactory devices came to be used.  Other manufacturers soon phased-in similar systems, many coining their own marketing trademarks including “Silent-Flow-Ventilation”, “Astro-Ventilation” and the inevitable “Flow-thru ventilation”.  For the Cortina, Ford took a “belt & braces” approach to ventilation, retaining the quarter-vents even after the “eyeballs” were added, apparently because (1) the costs of re-tooling to using a single pane for the window was actually higher than continuing to use the quarter-vents, (2) it wasn’t clear if there would be general public acceptance of their deletion and (3) smoking rates were still high and drivers were known to like being able to flick the ash out via the quarter-vent (and, more regrettably, the butts too).  Before long, the designers found a way economically to replace the quarter-vents with “quarter-panes” or “quarter-lights” (a fixed piece of glass with no opening mechanism) so early Cortinas were built with both although in markets where temperatures tended to be higher (notable South Africa and Australia), the hinged quarter-vents remained standard equipment.  When the Mark III Cortina (TC, 1970-1976) was released, the separate panes in any form were deleted and the side glass was a single pane.

Fluid dynamics in action: GM's Astro-Ventilation.

So logically a “quarter-vent” would describe a device with a hinge so it could be opened to provide ventilation while a “quarter-pane”, “quarter-light” or “quarter-glass” would be something in the same shape but unhinged and thus fixed.  It didn’t work out that way and the terms tended to be used interchangeably (though presumably “quarter-vent” was most applied to those with the functionality.  However, the mere existence of the fixed panes does raise the question of why they exist at all.  In the case or rear doors, they were sometimes a necessity because the shape of the door was dictated by the intrusion of the wheel arch and adding a quarter-pane was the only way to ensure the window could completely be wound down.  With the front doors, the economics were sometimes compelling, especially in cases when the opening vents were optional but there were also instances where the door’s internal mechanisms (the door opening & window-winding hardware) were so bulky the only way to make stuff was to reduce the size of the window.  In some cases, manufacturers "solved" the problem by making rear side glass fixed which lowered their costs but it was never popular with customers.

1976 Volkswagen Passat B1 (1973-1980 (1988 in Brazil)) without quarter-vents, the front & rear quarter-panes fixed.

The proliferation of terms could have come in handy if the industry had decided to standardize and the first generation Volkswagen Passat (1973-1980) was illustrative of how they might been used.  The early Passats were then unusual in that the four-door versions had five separate pieces of side glass and, reading from left-to-right, they could have been classified thus: (1) a front quarter-pane, (2) a front side-window, (3) a rear side-window, (4) a rear quarter-pane and (5) a quarter-window.  The Passat was one of those vehicles which used the quarter-panes as an engineering necessity to permit the rear side-window fully to be lowered.  However the industry didn’t standardize and in the pre-television (and certainly pre-internet) age when language tended to evolve with greater regional variation, not even quarter-glass, quarter-vent, quarter-window & quarter-pane were enough and the things were known variously also as a “fly window”, “valence window”, “triangle window” and (possibly annoying architects) “auto-transom”, the hyphen used and not.

PA Vauxhall Velox (1957-1962): 1959 (left) and 1960 (right).  The one-piece rear window was introduced as a running-change in late 1959.

Before flow-through ventilation systems and long before A-C became ubiquitous, quarter-vents were the industry standard for providing airflow to car interiors and it was common for them to be fitted on both front and rear-doors and frequently, the rear units were fixed quarter-panes (the lowering of the side window thing).  A special type of fixed quarter-pane were those used with rear windows, originally an economic imperative because initially it was too expensive to fabricate one piece glass to suit the “wrap-around styles becoming popular.  Improved manufacturing techniques let the US industry by the early 1950s overcome the limitations but elsewhere, the multi-piece fittings would continue to be used for more than a decade.

1957 Mercury Turnpike Cruiser (left), details of the apparatuses above the windscreen (centre) and the Breezeaway rear window lowered (right)

The 1957 Mercury Turnpike Cruiser was notable for (1) the truly memorable model name, (2) introducing the “Breezeway" rear window which could be lowered and (3) having a truly bizarre arrangement of “features” above the windscreen.  Unfortunately, the pair of “radio aerials” protruding from the pods at the top of the Mercury’s A-pillars were a mere affectation, a “jet-age” motif decorating what were actually air-intakes.

Brochure for 1957 Mercury Turnpike Cruiser promoting, inter-alia, the Breezeway retractable rear window.

A three-piece construction was however adopted as part of the engineering for the “Breezeway”, a retractable rear window introduced in 1957 on the Mercury Turnpike Cruiser.  It was at the time novel and generated a lot of publicity but the concept would have been familiar to those driving many roadsters and other convertibles which had “zip-out” rear Perspex screens, allowing soft-top to remain erected while the rear was open.  Combined with the car’s quarter-vents, what this did was create the same fluid dynamics as flow-through ventilation.  The way Mercury made the retractable glass work was to section the window in a centre flat section (some 80% of the total width), flanked by a pair of fixed quarter-panes.  After the run in 1957-1959, it was resurrected for use on certain Mercury Montclairs, Montereys and Park Lanes.

1958 (Lincoln) Continental Mark III Convertible (with Breezeway window).  The platform was unitary (ie no traditional chassis) which with modern techniques easily was achievable on the sedans and coupes but the convertible required so much additional strengthening (often achieved by welding-in angle iron) that a Mark III Convertible, fueled and with four occupants, weighed in excess of 6000 lb (2720 kg). 

Ford must have been much taken with the feature because it appeared also on the gargantuan “Mark” versions of the (Lincoln) Continentals 1958, 1959 & 1960, dubbed respectively Mark III, IV, & V, designations Ford shamelessly would begin to recycle in 1969 because the corporation wanted the new Mark III to be associated with the old, classic Continental Mark II (1956-1957) rather than the succeeding bloated trio.  The “Breezeway” Lincolns also featured a reverse-slanted rear window, something which would spread not only to the Mercurys of the 1960s but also the English Ford Anglia (105E, 1959-1968) and Consul Classic (1961-1963) although only the US cars ever had the retractable glass.  The severe roofline was used even on the convertible Continentals, made possible by them sharing the rear window mechanism used on the sedan & couple, modified only to the extent of being retractable into a rear compartment.

1967 Chevrolet Camaro 327 Convertible with vent windows (left), 1969 Chevrolet Camaro ZL1 without vent windows (centre) and Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) & Jamie Lee Curtis (b 1958) in 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Convertible during filming of the remake of Freaky Friday (2003), Los Angeles, August 2024.  Freakier Friday is slated for release in August, 2025).

Through Chevrolet's COPO (Central Office Production Order) system, 69 1969 Camaros were built with the ZL1, an all-aluminum version of the 427 cubic inch (7.0 litre) big-block V8.  The COPO had been established as an efficient way to coordinate the production of fleet orders (law enforcement agencies, utility companies etc) for runs of vehicles in a certain specification but the drag racing community and others worked out it could be used also as “back-door” way to order small runs of cars with otherwise unavailable high-performance engines.  The Freakier Friday Camaro (badged as a 396 SS but several were used during filming including at least one with a roll-over bar for the stunt work) lacks the vent windows which were deleted from the range after 1967 when “Astro-Ventilation” (GM’s name for flow-through ventilation) was added.  In North American use, the devices typically are referred to as “vent windows” while a “quarter light” is a small lamp mounted (in pairs) in the lower section of the front bodywork and a “quarter-vent” is some sort of (real or fake) vent installed somewhere on the quarter panels.  As flow-through ventilation became standardized and A-C installation rates rose, Detroit abandoned the quarter-vent which pleased industry because it eliminated both parts and labor, lowering the cost of production (the savings absorbed as profits rather than being passed to the customers).  On the small, cheap Ford Pinto (1971-1980), removing the feature saved a reported US$2.16 per unit but, being small and cheap, A-C rarely was ordered by Pinto buyers which was probably a good thing because, laboring under the 1970s burdens of emission controls, the weight of  impact-resistant bumper bars and often an automatic transmission a Pinto was lethargic enough with out adding power-sapping A-C compressor and plumbing.  Responding (after some years of high inflation) to dealer feedback about enquires from Pinto customers indicating a interest in the return of vents, Fords cost-accountants calculated the unit cost of the restoration would be some US$17.  

Ford Australia’s early advertising copy for the XA Falcon range included publicity shots both with and without the optional quarter-vents (left) although all sedans & station wagons had the non-opening, rear quarter-panes, fitted so the side window completely could be lowered.  One quirk of the campaign was the first shot released (right) of the “hero model” of the range (the Falcon GT) had the driver’s side quarter-vent airbrushed out (how “Photoshop jobs” used to be done), presumably because it was thought to clutter a well-composed picture.  Unfortunately, the artist neglected to defenestrate the one on the passenger’s side.

Released in Australia in March 1972, Ford’s XA Falcon was the first in the lineage to include through-flow ventilation, the previously standard quarter-vent windows moved to the option list (as RPO (Regular Production Option) 86).  Because Australia often is a hot place and many Falcons were bought by rural customers, Ford expected a high take-up rate of RPO 86 (it was a time when A-C was expensive and rarely ordered) so the vent window hardware was stockpiled in anticipation.  However, the option didn’t prove popular but with a warehouse full of the parts, they remained available on the subsequent XB (1973-1976) and XC (1976-1979) although the take-up rate never rose, less the 1% of each range so equipped and when the XD (1979-1983) was introduced, there was no such option and this continued on all subsequent Falcons until Ford ceased production in Australia in 2016, by which time A-C was standard equipment.

Great moments in tabloid journalism: Sydney's Sun-Herald, Sunday 25 June, 1972.  The Sun-Herald was then part of the Fairfax group, proving Rupert Murdoch (b 1931) can't be blamed for everything.

The infrequency with which RPO 86 was ordered has been little noted by history but on one car with the option the fixtures did become a element which enabled a owner to claim the coveted “one-of-one” status.  In August 1973, near the end of the XA’s run, with no fanfare, Ford built about 250 Falcons with RPO 83, a bundle which included many of the parts intended for use on the stillborn GTHO Phase IV, cancelled (after four had been built) in 1972 after a newspaper generated one of their moral panics, this time about the “160 mph super cars” it was claimed the local manufacturers were about to unleash and sell to males ages 17-25.  Actually, none of them were quite that fast but not often has the tabloid press been too troubled by facts and the fuss spooked the politicians (it's seldom difficult to render a "minister horrified").  Under pressure, Holden cancelled the LJ Torana V8, Ford the GTHO Phase IV and Chrysler reconfigured it's E55 Charger 340 as a luxury coupé, available only with an automatic transmission and no high-performance modifications.

The “quarter-vent XA RPO 83 GT”: 1973 Ford Falcon XA GT sedan (Body Identification: 54H; Model Code: 18238) in Calypso Green (code J) with Onyx Black (code B) accents over Black Vinyl (Code B) with 351 4V V8 (Code T) and four-speed manual transmission (Code L).  It’s the only one produced with both RPO 83 (a (variably fitted) bundle of parts left-over from the aborted GTHO Phase IV project) and RPO 86 (front quarter-vent windows).  In the collector market they're referred to usually as “the RPO83 cars”.

So in 1973 Ford's warehouse still contained all the parts which were to be fitted to the GTHO Phase IV so they’d be homologated for competition and although the rules for racing had been changed to ensure there was no longer any need to produce small batches of “160 mph (257 km/h) super cars”, Ford still wanted to be able to use the heavy-duty bits and pieces in competition so quietly conjured up RPO 83 and fitted the bundle on the assembly line, most of the cars not earmarked for allocation to racing teams sold as “standard” Falcon GTs.  Actually, it’s more correct to say “bundles” because while in aggregate the number of the parts installed was sufficient to fulfil the demands of homologation, not all the RPO 83 GTs received all parts so what a buyer got really was “luck of the draw”; with nobody being charged extra for RPO 83, Ford didn’t pay too much attention to the details of the installations and many who purchased one had no idea the parts had been included, the manual choke's knob the only visually obvious clue.  Ford made no attempt to publicize the existence of RPO 83, lest the tabloids run another headline.  It’s certain 250 RPO 83 cars were built (130 four-door sedans & 120 two-door Hardtops) but some sources say the breakdown was 131 / 121 while others claim an addition nine sedans were completed.  Being a genuine RPO 83 car, the Calypso Green GT attracts a premium and while being only RPO 83 with quarter-vent windows is not of any great significance, it does permit the prized “one-of-one” claim and not even any of the four GTHO Phase IVs built (three of which survive) had them.  In the collector market, the “one-of-one” status can be worth a lot of money (such as a one-off convertible in a run of coupés) but a Falcon’s quarter-vents are only a curiosity.

The Bathurst 1000 winning RPO83 Falcon GTs, 1973 (left) & 1974 (right).

All else being equal, what makes one RPO83 more desirable than another is if it was factory-fitted with all the option's notional inventory and most coveted are the ones with four-wheel disk brakes.  Because the project was focused on the annual endurance event at Bathurst's high-speed Mount Panorama circuit, the disks were as significant as an additional 50 horsepower and a few weeks before the RPO 83 run they'd already been fitted to the first batch of Landaus, which were Falcon Hardtops gorped-up (what bling used to be called) with hidden headlights, lashings of leather, faux woodgrain and a padded vinyl roof, all markers of distinction in the 1970s and, unusually, there was also a 24 hour analogue clock.  Essentially a short wheelbase, two-door LTD (which structurally was a Falcon with the wheelbase stretched 10 inches (250 mm) to 121 (3075 mm)), the Landau was not intended for racetracks but because it shared a body shell and much of the running gear with the Falcon GT Hardtops, Ford claimed Landau production counted towards homologation of the rear disks.  Fearing that might be at least a moot point, a batch were installed also on some of the RPO83 cars and duly the configuration appeared at Bathurst for the 1973 event, their presence of even greater significance because that was the year the country switched from using imperial measures to metric, prompting the race organizers to lengthen the race from 500 miles (804 km) to 625 (1000), the Bathurst 500 thus becoming the Bathurst 1000.  RPO83 Falcon GTs won the 1973 & 1974 Bathurst 1000s.

The “quarter-vent XB GT”: 1973 Ford Falcon XB GT sedan (Body Identification: 54H; Model Code: 18338) in Polar White (Code 3) with Onyx Black (code B) accents over Parchment Vinyl (Code P) with 351C 4V V8 (Code T) and four-speed manual transmission (Code L).  The only one produced with RPO 86 (front quarter-vent windows).

So with a large stock sitting in the warehouse, despite the dismally low take-up rate, the quarter-vents remained available when the XB Falcon (1973-1976) range was released and of the 1952 XB GT sedans sold (there were also 949 two-door Hardtops) a single buyer ticked the RPO 86 box.  Again, although granting the coveted “one-of-one” status, it’s not something of great significance although the car to which the pair of vents was fitted is one of the more desirable XB GTs because it was one of the 139 XB GTs built with the combination of the “4V Big Port” 351 V8 and four-speed Top Loader manual transmission.  The first 211 XB GTs received the fully-imported 351 Clevelands, “using up” what was in stock, subsequent models switching to the locally made variant.

US Built 351C-4V in 1973 XB Falcon GT.

Ford Australia had been importing from the US the high-performance 351C-4V (4 venturi (ie two-barrel carburetor) V8 for use in the GT but when advised US production of that configuration was ending, the decision was taken to produce a local “high-performance” version of the 351 using the 351C 2V “small port” cylinder heads with “open” combustion chambers and a four-barrel carburetor; Ford Australia only ever manufactured the “small port” heads.  That means the Australian nomenclature “351C-4V” (small ports & four barrel carburetor) differs in meaning from that used in the US where it translated to “big ports & four barrel carburetor”.  It sounded a retrogressive step and while there was some sacrifice in top-end power, the antipodean combo turned out to be ideal for street use because the fluid dynamics of the flow rate through the smaller ports made for better low and mid-range torque (most useful for what most drivers do most of the time) whereas the big-port heads really were optimized for full-throttle operation, something often done on race tracks but rarely on public roads… even in the Australia of the early 1970s.  Still, some did miss the responsiveness of the high-compression US-built engine, even if the difference was really apparent only above 80 mph (130 km/h).

The other ceremony which happened in Australia on 11 November, 1975: Ford Australia's photo shoot, Melbourne, Victoria.

Although only 2,901 XB GTs were produced, as the “halo” model it was an important image-maker and the XB range proved successful with almost 212,000 sold over its 34 month life (over 18 months in a more buoyant economy XA production had reached over 129,000).  Stylistically, the XB was an improvement over the poorly detailed XA and much was made (among Fords claimed 2,056 changes from the XA) of the headlight’s high-beam activation shifting from a foot-operated button to a steering column stalk which, thirty-odd years on from the achievement of nuclear fission, doesn’t sound like much but motoring journalists had for years been advocating for “a headlight flasher” having been impressed by the “safety feature” when being “flashed” on the German Autobahns by something about to pass at high speed.  More welcome still was the GT’s four-wheel disk brakes, acknowledged as good as any then in volume production.  The success of the XB coincided with Ford Australia’s two millionth vehicle leaving the assembly line so on Tuesday 11 November, 1975, Ford’s public relations office invited journalists and camera crews to a ceremony to mark the occasion, laying on the usual catering (including free cigarettes!) to ensure a good attendance.

Ford Australia pre-release publicity shot for the XB range release (embargoed until 15 September 1973).

1973 Ford Falcon XB GT Hardtop (Body Identification: 65H; Model Code: 18318) in Yellow Blaze (Code M) with Onyx Black (code B) accents over Black Vinyl (Code B) with 351C 4V V8 (Code T) and three-speed T-Bar automatic transmission (Code B).  Because the various side windows used by the Hardtop, Ute and Panel Van derivatives were different to fit the door and roof shapes, the quarter-vents were never offered on those and RPO 86 on the Hardtops was the dreaded vinyl roof in tan.  The sunroof (RPO 10) was a rarely (168 Falcons and 244 Fairmonts) specified option.

Unfortunately, the pictures of the dutifully polished XB Fairmont (a Falcon with some gorp) sedan didn’t generate the publicity expected because the next editions of the daily newspapers (there were then a lot of those and they sold in big numbers) had a more sensational story to cover: On that Tuesday Sir John Kerr (1914–1991; governor-general of Australia 1974-1977) had dismissed from office Gough Whitlam (1916–2014; prime minister of Australia 1972-1975) and his troubled administration.  It was the first time the crown had sacked a prime-minister since William IV (1765–1837; King of the UK 1830-1837) in 1834 dismissed Lord Melbourne (1779–1848; prime minister of the UK 1834 & 1835-1841) and although in 1932 Sir Philip Game (1876–1961; governor of NSW 1930-1935) had sundered the commission of Jack Lang (1876–1975; premier of New South Wales 1925-1927 & 1930-1932), most Australians who pondered such things believed the days of meddling viceroys were done.  Sir John however proved the royal prerogative still existed (although paradoxically perhaps now only in the hands of a monarch’s representative rather than their own) and the footnote in the history of Australian manufacturing passed almost unnoticed.