Orchidaceous

Orchidaceous (pronounced awr-ki-dey-shuhs)

(1) In botany, of, relating to, or belonging to the Orchidaceae, a family of flowering plants including (but not limited to) the orchids.

(2) Figuratively, characterized by ostentatiousness; showy; extravagant; excessive in some way.

1830–1840: From the New Latin Orchidace & Orchidaceae, the construct being orchidace + -ous.  It was English botanist John Lindley (1799–1865) who in School Botanty (1845) coined the word orchid from the New Latin Orchideæ & Orchidaceae (Linnaeus), the plant's family name, from the Latin orchis (a kind of orchid), from the Ancient Greek orkhis (genitive orkheos) (orchid (literally “testicle”)) from the primitive Indo-European orghi-, the standard root for “testicle” (and related to the Avestan erezi (testicles), the Armenian orjik, the Middle Irish uirgge, the Irish uirge (testicle) and the Lithuanian erzilas (stallion).  The plant so called because of the shape of its root was said so to resemble testicles (the Greek orkhis also was the name of a kind of olive, named also for its shape).  So striking did the writers of Antiquity fine the double roots of the plant that references appear in some texts.  The Roman historian Pliny the Elder (24-79) was (as was common at the time) also something of a naturalist and he was moved to observe: “Mirabilis est orchis herba sive serapis gemina radice testiculis simili.” (The orchis plant, also known as serapis, is remarkable with its twin roots resembling testicles.)  The noun plural is orchids, the field is orchidology and the breeders, collectors and other obsessives are called orchidologists.  Orchidaceous & orchidean are adjectives and orchidacity is a noun; the noun plural is orchidacities.

Earlier in English (in the Latinesque form) was the mid-sixteenth century orchis while in fourteenth century Middle English it was ballockwort (literally “testicle plant” and related to the more recent ballocks).  The extraneous -d- in the modern spelling was added in an attempt to extract the Latin stem and it is here to stay, the history of that the construct as orch(is) (the plant) + -id(ae).  The irregular suffix –idae is the plural of a Latin transliteration of the Ancient Greek -ίδης (-ídēs), a patronymic suffix which in medieval writing was sometimes interpreted as representing instead the plural of a Latin transliteration of the Ancient Greek adjectival suffix -ειδής (-eidḗs) from εἶδος (eîdos) (appearance, resemblance).  It was adopted in 1811 at the suggestion of British entomologist William Kirby (1759-1850), to simplify and make uniform the system of French zoologist Pierre André Latreille (1762–1833) which divided insect orders into sections; in taxonomy, it’s used to form names of subclasses of plants and families of animals.  The –ous suffix was from the Middle English -ous, from the Old French –ous & -eux, from the Latin -ōsus (full, full of); a doublet of -ose in an unstressed position.  It was used to form adjectives from nouns, to denote possession or presence of a quality in any degree, commonly in abundance.  In chemistry, it has a specific technical application, used in the nomenclature to name chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a lower oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix –ic (as an example, sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃).

The sensual orchid.

In the spirit of the figurative use (and usually of women’s fashion), although they’re non-standard, the adjective orchidaceousness and the adverb orchidaceously have been formed and in that vein, the only thing which would make orchidaceous difficult to use as a noun would be forming the plural (orchidaceoux would appall the purists).  Usually though, those commenting on what appears on the catwalks & red carpets seem content with the comparative (more orchidaceous) and the superlative (most orchidaceous).  Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) noted the old spelling (orchis) was “applied chiefly to the English wild flowers and is accordingly the poetic and country word”.  The very idea of “the country word” is now dated and was a particular sort of regionalism: one used by those tied by linguistic tradition to rural England rather than certain locations, and if orchis endures as a literary or poetic device, it’s rare.  Of flowers, although orchidaceous can mean “of, relating to, or belonging to the Orchidaceae”, such is the beauty of orchids, those who write of the things seem drawn to use sexual imagery and rarely can resist “seductive” and other lovely plants are sometimes also described as orchidaceous.

The original etymology survives in medicine as orchidectomy although the construct of that was the Latin orchis (wrongly interpreting orchid- as the stem) +‎ -ectomy (the surgical removal of); the correct term is actually orchiectomy (the surgical removal of one or both testes).  The synonym is testectomy which is interesting because the use of that within the profession (usually by veterinarians) does not of necessity imply something surgical.  The -ectomy suffix was from the Ancient Greek -εκτομία (-ektomía) (a cutting out of), from ἐκτέμνω (ektémnō) (to cut out), the construct being ἐκ (ek) (out) + τέμνω (témnō) (to cut).  In surgery, it was appended to the name of whatever is being removed (eg an appendectomy being the surgical removal of the appendix) although it's borrowed (often for jocular purposes) by plumbers, carpenters and others in professions where there often a need to "cut things off", a "roofectomy" being the process by which a coach-builder converts a coupé (or other closed vehicle) into some sort of convertible.

Lindsay Lohan in a Gucci Porcelain Garden print gown (the list price a reputed £4,040) at the launch of the One Family NGO (non-governmental organization), Savoy Hotel, London, June 2017 (left) and Taylor Swift in Etro navy and yellow silk floral ball gown at the Golden Globes award ceremony, The Beverly Hilton, Los Angeles, January 2020 (right).

Neither cutting-edge nor retro in the conventional sense of the word, Lindsay Lohan’s gown was mostly well-received and for students of intricacy it was worth studying although probably few would have called it orchidaceous because it conveyed such a sense of the conservative; only a burqa could have been more modest.  That’s why the blue was such a good choice; in scarlet there would have been mixed messages.  Some thought it Rococo and perhaps thematically it could have been done with just a ruffled collar, the pussy bow a detail too many, but the patterning was clever and accentuated the lines.  While it’s not certain the vivid floral patterns on Taylor Swift’s gown were actually intended to be suggestive of orchids, the effect was orchidaceous.  It was an exercise in monumentalism which swished around as wafted about, recalling the flowers of an orchid in a breeze.

Orchidacity in Solod colors: Gigi Hadid and the Met Gala, New York, May 2022 (left), Sophie Monk at the TV Week Logie Awards-Gold Coast, June 2019 (centre) and Carolina Gaitan at the Academy Awards ceremony, Los Angeles, March 2022 (right).

Although dedicated (ie obsessional) orchidologists adhere to the language from botanical taxonomy (Epidendrum, Ludisia, Masdevallia, Erythraeum, Promenaea, Spathoglottis, Psychopsis, Angraecum, Encyclia cochleata et al) when classifying their collections, most people describe them in terms of the dominant color or, when a combination is particular striking (as many of the blues & purples especially are) that mix is referenced (orange/yellow, purple/white et al) but that doesn’t mean that for some object to be thought orchidaceous it must be multi-hued.  That’s because the allure of an orchid lies not in the colors but in the sensuality of the shape; they are the sexiest of flowers, soft, feminine things which seem to draw one in to be enveloped.

Giulia Salemie (b 1993, left) & Dayane Mello (b 1989, right), Venice Film Festival, Italy, September 2016.

The trend in recent years for the “naked dress” to become the red carpet motif of the era might have been thought to limit the possibility of the creations being thought orchidaceous because the focus is so much on flesh rather than fabric, of which there’s often precious little.  However, on a fortuitously warm and not too windy September day during the Venice Film Festival, two Italian models proved the naked look could be combined with voluminous folds; it was all in the cut.  For the reasons discussed, the dresses could not be called anything but orchidaceous although the internet had already suggested VVD (visible vag(ina) dress)) which in general was wrong because it correctly the hint was of a visible vulva and on that day in Venice, the models actually wore (that may not be the right word) color-coordinated (ie the same fabric as the dresses) adhesive micro-knickers, held in place with a skin-friendly surgical glue.  In a nice touch, their appearance came during the festival’s premiere of The Young Pope (the first time a television production had been included in the program).

Croissant

Croissant (pronounced krwah-sahn (French) or kruh-sahnt (barbarians))

A rich, buttery, often crescent-shaped, roll of leavened dough or puff paste.

1899:  From the French croissant (crescent), present participle of the verb croître (to increase, to grow), from the Middle French croistre, from the Old French creistre derived from the Classical Latin crēscēns & crēscentem, present active infinitive of crēscō (I augment), drawn from the Proto-Italic krēskō. The ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European ḱreh (to grow, become bigger).  Correct pronunciation here.  

The Austrian Pastry

Like some other cultural artefacts thought quintessentially French (French fries invented in Belgium; Nicolas Sarkozy (b 1955; French president 2007-2012) from here and there; the Citroën DS (1955-1975) styled by an Italian) the croissant came from elsewhere, its origins Austrian, the Viennese kipferl a crescent-shaped sweet made plain, with nuts or other fillings.  It varies from the French classic in being denser and less flaky, made with softer dough.  First noted in the thirteenth century at which time, it was thought a “sweet” it was another three-hundred years before it came to be regarded as a morning pastry.  Tastes changed as new techniques of baking evolved and around the turn of the seventeenth century, recipes began to appear in Le Pâtissier François using Pâte feuilletée (puff pastry), these being the first recognisably modern croissants.

Culinary histories include a number of (likely apocryphal) tales of why the croissant adopted a crescent shape.  One suggests it was baked first in Buda to celebrate the defeat of the Ummayyad (the Umayyad Caliphate (661–750) was the second of the four major caliphates created after the death of the prophet Muhammad (circa 570-632)) forces by the Franks in the Battle of Tours (732), the shape representing the Islamic crescent moon although more famous is the notion it was designed after the battle of 1683 when the Ottomans were turned back from the gates of Vienna.  A baker, said to have heard the Turks tunneling under the walls of the city as he lit his ovens to bake the morning bread, sounded an alarm, and the defending forces collapsed the tunnel, saving the city.   To celebrate, bread was baked in the shape of the crescent moon of the Turkish flag.

Portrait of Marie Antoinette (1769) oil on canvas by Joseph Ducreux (1735-1802).

The official title of the portrait was Archduchess Maria Antonia of Austria and it was created as the era’s equivalent of a Tinder profile picture, the artist summoned in 1769 to Vienna to paint a pleasing rendering of the young lady the Hapsburg royal court planned to marry off to Louis, Dauphin of France (1754-1973) who would reign as Louis XVI (King of France 1774-1792)).  Tinder profile pictures can be misleading (some pounds and even more years sometimes vanishing) so the work must be considered in that context although she was barely fourteen when she sat so it may be true to the subject.  Ducreux’s portrait was the first glimpse the prince had of his intended bride and it must have been pleasing enough for him metaphorically to "swipe right" and the marriage lasted until the pair were executed with the blade of the guillotine.  As a reward, Ducreux was raised to the nobility as a seigneur de la baronnie (lord of the barony, the grade of of baron granted to roturiers (commoners)) and appointed premier peintre de la reine (First Painter to the Queen), outliving the royal couple.

A more romantic tale attributes the pastry to Marie Antoinette (1755–1793; Queen of France 1774-1792), who, as an Austrian, preferred the food of her homeland to that of the French court and, at state dinners, would sneak away to enjoy pastries and coffee.  There is no documentary evidence for her having re-christened the kipferl as the croissant but the story is she so missed what she knew as kipfel (German for crescent) that she commanded the royal baker to clone the treat.  More prosaic, but actually verified by historical evidence, is that August Zang (1807-1888), a retired Austrian artillery officer founded a Viennese Bakery in Paris in 1839 and most food historians agree he is the one most likely to have introduced the kipfel to France, a pastry that later inspired French bakers to create crescents of their own.  The first mention of the croissant in French is in French chemist Anselme Payen’s (1795-1871) Des Substances alimentaires (1853), published long after Marie-Antoinette’s time in court, the first known printed recipe, using the name, appearing in Swiss chef Joseph Favre’s (1849-1903) Dictionnaire universel de cuisine (1905) although even that was a more dense creation than the puffy thing known today.

Breakfast in Paris.

Although the famous shape is much admired, for purists, the choice is always the un-curved croissant au beurre, (butter croissant), the more eye-catching crescents being usually the ordinaires, made with margarine.  The taste in the English-speaking world for things like ham-and-cheese croissants is regarded by the French as proof of Anglo-Saxon barbarism although they will tolerate a sparse drizzle of chocolate if it’s for children and food critics reluctantly concede the almond croissant (with a frangipane filling, topped with slivered almonds and a dusting of powdered sugar) is “…enjoyed by younger women”.  Generally though, the French stick to the classics, eschewing even butter, a croissant being best enjoyed unadorned and taken with a strong black coffee and while some will insist this should be accompanied with a Gitanes, that is optional.

The cube croissant, an Instagram favorite.

Although much focused upon, the shape of a croissant of course becomes less relevant when eaten when the experience becomes one of taste and texture.  For that reason the pastry used has long attracted those chefs for whom food offers architectural possibilities and while for more than a century one-offs have been created for competition and special event, in recent years the phenomenon of social media has been a design stimulant, Instagram, TikTok et al fuelling a culinary arms race and patisseries have built (sometimes short-lived) product lines in response to viral videos.  Fillings have of course been a feature but it’s the shapes which have been most eye-catching (and by extension click-catching which is the point for the content providers). There have been “croissants” in the shape of spheres, discs, pyramids, spirals, wedges and cubes, the last among the more amusing with chefs referencing objects and concepts such as dice, cubist art and, of course, the Rubik’s Cube.  Many have been just a moment while some have for a while trended.

Dominique Ansel's Cronut, stacked and sliced.

Some have endured for longer such as the Cronut (the portmanteau’s construct being cro(issant) + (dough)nut) and so serious was New York based French pastry chef Dominique Ansel (b 1978) that in 2013 he trademarked his creation.  In the familiar shape of a doughnut, the composition was described as “a croissant-like pastry with a filling of flavored cream and fried in grapeseed oil.”  Interviewed by Murdoch tabloid the New York Post, the chef revealed it took “two months of R&D (research & development)” before the Cronut was perfected and the effort was clearly worthwhile because after being released in his eponymous bakery in Manhattan’s SoHo neighbourhood, the city’s food bloggers (a numerous and competitive population) responded and within days photographs circulated of dozens waiting for opening time, a reaction which prompted the application to the US Patent and Trademark Office.  In the way of such things, around the planet “clones”, “tributes”, “knock-offs”, “imitations”, “rip-offs” (the descriptions as varied as the slight changes in the recipes introduced presumably to fend off a C&D (cease and desist letter)) soon appeared.  Predictably, some were called “Doughssants” (the Germanic eszett a nice touch) although others were less derivative.

New York Post, August 16 2022.

Monsieur Ansel in 2015 released Dominique Ansel: The Secret Recipes, a cookbook which included the Cronut recipe and the thing in its authentic form was clearly for the obsessives, the instructions noting making one or a batch was a three-day process.  In its review of the year, Time magazine nominated the Cronut as one of the “best inventions of 2013”, prompting one cultural commentator (another species which proliferates in New York City) to observe the decadence of the West had reached the point the breakdown of society was close.  There may have been something in the idea the new “Visigoths at the Gates of Rome” were actually pastry chefs because in the wake of the Cronut the city was soon flooded with all sorts of novel sugary treats, mostly elaborations of croissants, doughnuts and, it being NYC, bagels.  By 2022 the New York Post was prepared to proclaim: “Move over cronuts! NYC's hot new baked good is the Suprême”, the defenestrator from Noho’s Lafayette Grand Café and revealed to be a “unique circular croissant filled with pastry crème and topped with ganache and crushed up cookies.”  Again of the Instagram & TikTok age, queues were reported even though at a unit cost of US$8.50 it was two dollars more expensive than a Cronut, the price of which had increased fairly modestly since 2013 when it debuted at US$5.00.

All the recent variations on the croissant are built on the theme chefs have for centuries understood is the easy path to popularity: FSS; add fat, salt & sugar, the substances mankind has for millennia sought.  Once it took much effort (and often some risk) to find these things but now they’re conveniently packaged and widely available at prices which, although subject to political and economic forces, remain by historic standards very cheap.  Often, we don’t even need to seek out the packages because so much of the preparation and distribution of food has been outsourced to specialists, mostly industrial concerns but the artisans persist in niches.  That’s certainly true of the croissant, few making their own whether basic or embellished and one of the latest of the croissant crazes is FSS writ large: the crookie.

Miss Sina's crookie (without added topping or powered sugar).

A crookie is a croissant stuffed with chocolate chip cookie dough and its very existence will be thought particularly shameful by some Parisian purists because it was first sold in December 2023 by the Boulangerie Louvard, located on Rue de Châteaudun in Paris’s 9^th arrondissement which, in an Instragram post announced the arrival: “Our pure butter croissant, awarded the seventh best croissant in the Île-de-France region in 2022, is made every morning with a 24-hour fermented milk sourdough and layered with Charente butter.  For our cookie dough, we use one of the best and purest chocolates in the world, from @xoco.gourmet.”  Offered originally in a test batch to test the market, the boulangerie soon announced “The concept was well received, so we're keeping it.  Available every day in-store!”

Unlike a Cronut which (at least in its pure form) demands three days to make, the charm of the crookie is its elegant simplicity and Instagrammers quickly deconstructed and posted the instructions:

(1) With a serrated knife, cut open a croissant lengthwise, leaving a “hinge” at the back.

(2) Add 2-3 tablespoons of your chocolate chip cookie dough (from a packet or home-made).

(3) Close the two sections of croissant wholly encasing the dough.

(4) When the dough is almost cooked (time will vary according to oven and the volume of dough but it takes only a few minutes), remove from oven.

(5) Add more cookie dough to the top of croissant and return to the oven for final bake.

(6) When the outside is crispy and the centre gooey, remove from oven and top with a dusting of powdered sugar.

Some crookie critics don't recommend either adding the second lashing of dough or the powered sugar because they tend to "overwhelm" the croissant and limit the surface area, thereby denying the dish some of the essential crispiness.  

The croissant in fashion

Louis Vuitton Loop (part number M81098).  Created by Nicolas Ghesquière (b 1971) for the Cruise 2022 Collection, the Loop is described as a "half-moon baguette" and was inspired by the earlier Croissant bag, the original a less fussy design.

Lindsay Lohan in T-shirt with croissant theme.

While a handbag lends itself well to the shape of a crescent, it does inherently limit the efficiency of space utilization but this aspect is often not a primary goal in the upper reaches of the market.  With garments however, although actually a common component because the shape makes all sorts of engineering possible such as the underwire of the bra or other constructions where any sort of cantilever effect is demanded, it’s usually just an element rather than a design motif.  As a playful touch, a distinctive crescent moon or croissant might appear on a T-shirt or scarf but it’s rare to see a whole garment pursue the theme although they have appeared on the catwalks where they attract the usual mix of admiration and derision.   

Sarah Jessica Parker in "croissant dress".

Sometimes though, such things escape the catwalk.  In 2022 the actor Sarah Jessica Parker (b 1965) appeared in HBO's And Just Like That, a spin-off (2021-2022) of the Sex and the City TV series (1998-2024), wearing an orange Valentino couture gown from the house’s spring/summer 2019 collection.  It recalled a large croissant, the piece chosen presumably because the scene was set in Paris although it must have been thought the viewers needed the verisimilitude laid on with a trowel because also prominent was a handbag in the shape of the Eifel Tower.  A gift to the meme-makers, admiration for the dress was restrained.

Frock

Frock (pronounced frok)

(1) A gown or dress worn by a female, consisting of a skirt and a cover for the upper body.

(2) A loose outer garment worn by peasants and workers; a smock.

(3) A coarse outer garment with large sleeves, worn by monks in some religious orders; a habit.

(4) In naval use, a sailor's jersey.

(5) In military use, an undress regimental coat (now less common).

(6) To clothe (somebody) in a frock.

(7) To make (somebody) a cleric (to invest with priestly or clerical office).

(8) In US military use, to grant to an officer the right to the title and uniform of a rank before the formal appointment is conferred.

1300–1350: From the Middle English frok, frokke and froke and twelfth century Old French froc (a monk’s habit; clothing, dress), from the Frankish hrok and thought probably related to the Old Saxon and Old High German hroc (mantle, coat) which appears to have spawned the Old Norse rokkr, the Old English rocc, and Old Frisian rokk.  Most etymologists seem to think it’s most likely all ultimately derived from the primitive rug or krek (to spin or weave); the alternative view suggests a link with the Medieval Latin hrocus, roccus and rocus (all of which described types of coats) which they speculate was the source of the Old French from, again from the Old Frankish hroc and hrok (skirt, dress, robe), from the Proto-Germanic hrukkaz (robe, jacket, skirt, tunic).  That does seem at least plausible given the existence of the Old High German hroch and roch (skirt, dress, cowl), the German rock (skirt, coat), the Saterland Frisian Rok (skirt), the Dutch rok (skirt, petticoat), the Old English rocc (an over-garment, tunic, rochet), the Old Norse rokkr (skirt, jacket) and Danish rok (garment).  Another alternative (more speculative still) traces it from the Medieval Latin floccus, from the Classical Latin floccus (flock of wool).  The meaning "outer garment for women or children" was from the 1530s while frock-coat (also as frock-cost & frockcoat) dates from the 1820s, the garment itself fading from fashion a century later although revivals have been attempted every few decades, aimed at a rather dandified market ignored by most.  Frock & frocking are nouns & verbs, frocked is a verb and frockless, frocklike & frockish are adjectives; the noun plural is frocks.

Frocks and Brass Hats

The phrase “frocks and brass hats” was coined in the years immediately following World War I (1914—1918) in reaction to the large volume of memoirs, autobiographies and histories published by some of the leading politicians and military leaders involved in the conflict, the phrase derived from (1) the almost universal habit of statesmen of the age wearing frock coats and (2) the hats of senior military personnel being adorned with gold braid, emulating the physical polished brass of earlier times.  Many of the books were polemics, the soldiers and politicians writing critiques of the wartime conduct of each other.  Politicians no longer wear frock coats and although some of the hats of military top brass still feature a bit of braid, it’s now less often seen.  However, the term persists although of late, academics studying institutional conflict in government have extended it to “frock coats, mandarins and brass hats”, reflecting the increase in importance of the part played by public servants, especially the military bureaucracy, in such matters.  So structurally, the internecine squabbles within the creature of the state have changed, the most obvious causes the twin threads of (1) the politicization of the upper reaches of the public service and (2) the creation of so many organs of government as corporate entities which enable the frocks (the politicians) to distance themselves from unpalatable policies and decisions by asserting (when it suits them), the “independence” of such bodies.  Of course, such functionaries will find their “independence” counts for little if the frocks start to feel the heat; then brutally the axe will fall, just as it did on some of the Great War generals.

Men in frock coats: The “Big Four” at the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920), outside the Foreign Ministry headquarters, Quai d'Orsay, Paris.  Left to right: David Lloyd George (1863–1945; UK prime-minister 1916-1922), Vittorio Orlando (1860–1952; Italian prime minister 1917-1919), Georges Clemenceau (1841–1929; French prime minister 1906-1909 & 1917-1920) and Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924; US president 1913-1921).

At the time, nothing quite like or on the scale of the Paris Peace Conference had ever been staged.  Only Orlando anticipated the future of fashion by preferring a lounge suit to a frock coat but he would be disappointed by the outcome of the conference, leaving early and to his dying day content his signature never appeared on the treaty’s final declaration, a document he regarded as flawed.  Not even John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) or Barack Obama (b 1961; US president 2009-2017) on their tours of European capitals received anything like the adulation Wilson enjoyed when he arrived in Paris in 1919.  His successors however were there more as pop-culture figures whereas Wilson was seen a harbinger of a "lasting peace", a thing of much significance to the French after four years of slaughter.  Ultimately Wilson's hopes would be dashed (in the US Senate as well as at the Quai d'Orsay's conference table) although, historians will likely continue to conclude his Nobel Peace Prize (1919) was more deserved than the one awarded to Obama (apparently on the basis he wasn't George W Bush (George XLIII, b 1946; US president 2001-2009)).  Lloyd George's ambitions in 1919 were more tempered by realism and he too regarded the terms of final document as a mistake, prophesying that because of the punitive terms imposed on the defeated Germany: “We shall have to fight another war again in 25 years' time.”  In that, he was correct, even if the expected wait was a little optimistic.  Only Clemenceau had reasons to be satisfied with what was achieved although, has his instincts been allowed to prevail, the terms of the Treaty of Versailles (1920) would have been more onerous still.  It was the Englishman Eric Geddes (1875–1937; First Lord of the Admiralty (the civilian head of the Royal Navy) 1917-1919) who coined the phrase "...squeeze the German lemon until the pips squeak." but it's doubtful that sentiment was ever far from Clemenceau's thoughts.

Lindsay Lohan in a nice frock.  V Magazine Black & White Ball, New York City, September 2011.

In idiomatic use, “frock” has proved as serviceable as the garment.  A “frock flick” is a film or television production noted for the elaborate costuming and most associated with costume dramas (typically sixteenth-nineteenth centuries) in which the frocks of the rich are depicted as big & extravagant.  To “frock up” is used by young women to describe “dressing-up” for some event or occasion and in the (male) gay community to refer either to much the same thing or cross-dressing.  A “cock in a frock” (“cocks in frocks” the collective) is a type of trans-woman (one without the relevant medical modification) and what used to be called a transvestite (a once technical term from psychiatry now (like “tranny”) thought derogatory except in historic use).  A “smock frock” was a garment of coarse, durable material which was worn over other clothing and most associated with agricultural and process workers (and usually referred to either as “smock” or “frock”.  In fashion there’s the “sun frock” (one of lightweight material which exposes more than the usual surface area of skin, often in a strappy or strapless style.  A “housefrock” was a piece of everyday wear form women which was self-explanatory: a simple, practical frock to be worn “around the house” and well suited to wear while performing “housework”.  “Underfrock” was a now archaic term for a slip or petticoat.  The A coat with long skirts, worn by men, now only on formal occasions.  The “frock coat” (also listed by some as the “Prince Albert coat”) is characterized by a knee-length skirt cut all around the base, ending just above the knee.  Among the middle & upper classes, it was popular during the Victorian and Edwardian eras (1830s–1910s) although they were widely into the 1920s.  Although some fashion houses may have had lines with detail differences, there was really no difference between a “cocktail dress” and a “cocktail frock” except the latter seems now to be used only humorously.

Variations on the theme of the cocktail dress: Lindsay Lohan in vintage Herve Leger at Arrivals For Cartier’s Declare Your Love Day VIP cocktail reception, Cartier Store, New York, June 2006 (left) and in black Dion Lee cocktail dress with illusion panels and an off-the-shoulder silhouette, January 2013 (right).

A cocktail dress does however differ from a cocktail gown because they straddle the gap between daywear and ball gowns.  Intended to be worn at formal or semi-formal occasions (classically of course, the “cocktail party”) including wedding receptions or dinner parties, they’re typically shorter in length than a gown, the hemline falling somewhere between just above the knee to mid-calf.  There’s no exact template for a cocktail dress but they should be identifiable by their simplicity and elegance, thus the utility of their versatility.  While not exactly post-modern, they appear in many fabrics and just about any style including empire, bandage, A-line or sack, featuring a range of necklines, sleeve lengths, and embellishments.  Historically, befitting the sophistication once associated with the cocktail party, the dresses were characterized by modesty and severity of line, the classic motif the tailored silhouette, relatively uncluttered by details.  Vogue magazine labeled the accessories (shoes, jewelery, a clutch and sometimes a wrap) the “cocktail dress ensemble” but in recent decades there’s been a rise in stylistic promiscuity and some discordant elements have intruded.

Men of the frock: Cardinal George Pell (1941-2023; left) and Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022; right) at an inter-faith meeting in Sydney, Australia, July 2008.

A “man of the frock” is a clergyman of some description (almost always of some Christian denomination) and the apparent anomaly of nuns never being described as “women of the frock” (despite always wearing something at least frock-like) is explained presumably by all women once being assumed to wear frocks.  To “defrock” (literally “to divest of a frock”) is in figurative use used widely to mean “formally to remove the rights and authority of a member of the clergy” and by extension this is casually applied also to “struck-off” physicians, lawyers etc.  “Disfrock” & “unfrock” are used as synonyms of “defrock” but none actually appear in Roman Catholic canon law, the correct term being “laicization” (ie “returned to the laity).  Despite the popular impression, the Vatican has revealed most acts of laicization are pursuant to the request of the priest and performed because they feel, for whatever reason, unable to continue in holy orders (ex priests marrying ex-nuns a thing and there must be some theological debate around whether they’ve been “brought together by God” or “tempted by the Devil”).  Defrock dates from the 1580s in the sense of “deprive of priestly garb” and was from the fifteenth century French défroquer, the construct being from de- (used her as a negative prefix) + froque (frock) and familiar also as the verb “defrocked”.  The modern English verb “frock” (supply with a frock) seems to have come into use only in the 1820s and was either a back-formation from defrock or an evolution from the noun.  The verb was picked up by the military and “to frock” is used also as a jocular form of “to dress”.

Swiftie

Swiftie (pronounced swiftee)

(1) In slang (originally Australian) a trick, ruse, or deception (often in the form “(s)he pulled a swiftie”).

(2) A self-identifying term used by the most devoted (some suggest obsessed) fans of the musician Taylor Swift (b 1989).  The collective is “Swifties” (the initial capital not always used) and as fandom they distinguish themselves from mere casual listeners although the media tends to apply the term to all.  In 2017, Taylor Swift trade-marked the term Swiftie for commercial use and The Oxford English Dictionary elevated it from “slang” to “word” in 2022; it was a finalist in Oxford’s 2023 Word of the Year judging.

(3) As "Singapore Swiftie", an emerging alternative form for term "exclusivity clause", most associated with contract law.

1945 (for the Australian slang) and (at least) 2010 (of Taylor Swift’s fans):  The construct was swift + -ie.  The word swift existed in the Middle English as an adjective & adverb prior to 900 and was an adjective in the Old English.  It was akin to the Old English swīfan (to revolve) and the Old Norse svīfa (to rove) and was most common as an adjective (moving or capable of moving with great speed or velocity; fleet; rapid; coming, happening, or performed quickly or without delay; quick or prompt to act or respond).  The Old English swift was from the Proto-Germanic swiftaz (swift; quick), from the primitive Indo-European sweyp & weyp- (to twist; wind around) and cognate with the Icelandic svipta (to pull quickly) and the Old English swīfan (to revolve, sweep, wend, intervene).  While the derived forms (swiftly, swiftness et al) are well-known and most have survived, one which went extinct was the thirteenth century swiftship “the ability to run fast”.  In the Australian way, the slang “swiftie” (also often as “swifty”) was also re-purposed as a nickname for someone “slow” (both mentally & physically).  The suffix -ie was a variant spelling of -ee, -ey & -y and was used to form diminutive or affectionate forms of nouns or names.  It was used also (sometimes in a derogatory sense to form colloquial nouns signifying the person associated with the suffixed noun or verb (eg bike: bikie, surf: surfie, hood: hoodie etc).  Swiftie is a noun; the noun plural is swifties.

The surname Swift was of English origin and is thought to have been literally a reference to someone who was “swift” (a fast runner).  There are entries in parish records in Suffolk dating from 1222 recording the birth of “Nicholas, ye sonne of Swyfte” and Swift evolved as a name often given to a messenger or courier (the faster a carrier, the faster the transmission of the message, a concept which has survived into the internet age.  In the household books of the court of Edward III (1312–1377; King of England 1327-1377), a Ralph Swyft was recorded as his courier.  The name became common in England and in later centuries spread throughout the English-speaking world.

As SWIFT, it’s the acronym for the Society for Worldwide Interbank Financial Telecommunication: an international consortium that routes instructions concerning transfer of funds between financial institutions.  Except in the business of money transfers, it was an obscure organization until Mr Putin’s (Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin; b 1952; president or prime minister of Russia since 1999) special military operation against Ukraine when the significance of SWIFT in the commodities markets (where Russia is a big player) became widely understood after the imposition of trade and other economic sanctions.

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

The noun swift was applied to name any of numerous long-winged, swallow-like birds of the family Apodidae, related to the hummingbirds and noted for their rapid flight.  It was used also of several types of moth, butterfly & lizard noted for their rapid movements and in engineering was used of the adjustable device on the processing apparatus upon which a hank of yarn is placed in order to wind off skeins or balls or the main cylinder on a machine for carding flax.  In the plural, the word was used of the faster-flowing current of a stream or reaches of a river and “swifts” in that sense remains in literary and poetic use although it’s otherwise obsolete.  Historically, the adjective Swiftian meant “of or pertaining to the Anglo-Irish satirist and essayist Jonathan Swift (1667–1745) or his works” (the best known of which were A Tale of a Tub (1704) & Gulliver's Travels (1726) but of late it has in academia been used also of Taylor Swift.  Universities are businesses which operate to make a profit and even Harvard now runs Taylor Swift courses which focus on her musical and lyrical style.  Jonathan Swift in 1713 became Dean of St Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin, thus his later common sobriquet: “Dean Swift”.  It’s thought unlikely Talyor Swift will follow her namesake into ecclesiastical administration.

The Singapore Swiftie

The lawyers in the Singapore government have a famously acute commercial sense and wouldn’t have needed the back of an envelope, let also a spreadsheet, to work out that if an exclusivity clause could be agreed with Taylor Swift, guaranteeing her six concerts in the city-state would be her only performances in the region, the economic benefits in terms of inward capital flows would be considerable.  For Taylor Swift’s operation too there would have been advantages, not the least of which would have been Singapore’s high level of security and world-class infrastructure but the cost off-sets would also have been considerable including a reduction in travel expenses and the logistical impositions of touring (the set-up and tear-down of the venues is a major operation with a high labor component).  The amount the government paid for the exclusivity clause wasn’t disclosed but presumably both parties were satisfied with the transaction.  Such is Ms Swift’s cultural power that it seems not even Greta Thunberg (b 2003) was prepared to risk incurring the wrath & indignation of the Swifties by commenting on the addition carbon generated by so many of them flying to see their idol.

Exclusivity clauses are common in commercial contracts and are used variously for purposes such as (1) guarding software, products or services from unwanted distribution, (2) granting exclusive rights to certain parties and forbidding the transfer of those permissions to others, (3) obliging certain parties to purchase products or services exclusively from one’s company rather than a competitor.  So, there’s nothing novel about exclusivity clauses and in most jurisdictions, usually they’re enforceable unless they offend against some over-arching restriction such as “unconscionable conduct” or a violation of competition rules.  As a general principle, the guidelines for an exclusivity clause to be held valid are (1) voluntariness (ie entered into without coercion), (2) certainty of terms (ie no ambiguity), (3) a beginning and an end (although the clauses can, with the agreement of both parties, be extended indefinitely, the clause should be limited in time and renewal & termination protocols must be clear), (4) product & service standards and payment terms must be clear (including variation protocols) and (5) the consequences of any breach must be explicit and detail specific remedies such as monetary compensation.

There are reasons other than the music to become a Swiftie:  The statuesque Taylor Swift in a Sachin & Babi patchwork dress at Capital FM’s Jingle Bell Ball, London, December 2014.  The eye was drawn by the intricate detailing and although some missed her trademark red lipstick, the garment's array of variegated reds meant that would have been too much, the same admirable restraint dictating the choice of black shoes.  Solid colors tend to dominate the red carpet so this piece was a rare splash of genuine adventurism.

Reaction to the deal (soon labeled the “Singapore swiftie”, the formation presumably influenced also by the equally alliterative "Singapore Sling") in the region was swift.  Authorities in Hong Kong & Thailand were immediately critical and one Philippine politician told local media Singapore was operating by “the law of the jungle” and not the law of a “neighborhood of countries bound by supposed principles of solidarity and consensus”, a not so subtle reminder that in the neighborhood diplomatic relations have in recent decades been usually smooth, the members of Asean (Association of Southeast Asian Nations), the regional economic and security bloc, famously operating on the basis of “consensus”, a reasonably achievement in an organization of which Myanmar (sometimes still referred to as Burma) is a member.

A Singapore Swiftie: Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong.

However, even while the waves from west & north were disturbing Asean’s usually calm waters, Lee Hsien Loong (b 1952; Prime Minister of Singapore since 2004) was addressing the matter of the Singapore Swiftie in a press conference conducted as part of an Asean summit held, unusually, in Melbourne: “A deal was reached.  And so it has turned out to be a very successful arrangement.  I don't see that as being unfriendly” Mr Lee said, confirming an “incentive” had been paid to secure the deal.  That matter had already attracted interest but the Singapore Tourism Board declined to comment on the amount paid, saying the terms were “commercial in confidence” and Taylor Swift's concert promoter was just as reticent.  The math however will have been done by many and not only does the Singapore economy gain from all the visitors arriving to rent hotel rooms, buy food and catch trains but the city state benefits also from its citizens not leaving the territory, taking their money to neighboring countries to spend there.  Thus, Singapore’s gain is the loss of others and while the numbers in the estimates of the benefit gained bounce around a bit, all were in the hundreds of millions of US dollars.

Pulling a swiftie on X (when it was known as Twitter)?

Lindsay Lohan’s tweet to Taylor Swift on 14 December 2020 contained no message but it nevertheless garnered some 8K retweets, 53K Likes and over 1000 responses.  Neither sender nor recipient have ever commented but Twitter's deconstructionists pondered this postmodern message and concluded: Lindsay Lohan is a Swiftie.

Plenty of touring acts will have noted all of this and while few have anything like the drawing power of Taylor Swift, doubtless most will have suggested promoters add the Singapore Swiftie to their negotiating toolbox, the hope being that in playing countries & cities off against each other, a bidding war will ensue; certainly, for decades, the approach has worked well for operators like the IOC (International Olympic Committee), FIFA (Fédération internationale de football association) and Formula One.  Hopefully there’s also a linguistic legacy and in the jargon of law and commerce, the dull & boring “exclusivity clause” will be replaced by the exciting and attractively alliterative “Singapore Swiftie”.