Talisman

Talisman (pronounced tal-is-muhn or tal-iz-muhn)

(1) A stone, ring, or other object, usually engraved with figures or characters supposed to possess occult powers and worn as an amulet or charm; believed to protect the wearer from evil influences

(2) Any amulet or charm.

(3) Anything or anyone, the presence of which exercises a remarkable or powerful influence on human feelings or actions.

(4) A trim option offered on the Cadillac Fleetwood (1974-1976).

1630–1640: From the French or Spanish talisman, partly from Arabic طِلَسْم‎ (ṭilasm), from the Late Greek télesmon (completion, performance, consecrated object), and partly directly from the Byzantine Greek τέλεσμα (télesma) (talisman, religious rite, completion), from τελέω (teléō), (to perform religious rites, to complete), from τέλος (télos) (end, fulfillment, accomplishment, consummation, completion”).  The Arabic word was also borrowed by Turkish, Persian & Hindi and the only explanation for the -n in western European languages is replicated error.  Derived forms are the adjectives talismanic & talismanical and the adverb talismanically.  Talisman is a noun & verb, talismaning & talismaned are verbs, talismanic is an adjective and talismanically is an adverb; the noun plural is talismans (talismen is non-standard).  Talismanique is a French and not an English adjective.

Lindsay Lohan wearing (non-Masonic) Evil Eye talisman, Los Angeles, March 2011.

The Evil Eye is a talisman (or amulet), or talisman which is said to afford the wearer protection against the forces of evil.  Examples of Evil Eye talismans have for some three-thousand years existed in many cultures and are documented in early examples of the art of Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism and Christianity, the forms including the Hebrew Ayin Ha’ra, the Turkish Nazar Boncugu, the Italian Mal Occhio, the Farsi Bla Band, the Arabic Ayin Harsha, the Scots Droch Shuil, the Spanish Mal Ojo (or El Oja), the French Mauvais Oeil, the German Busen Blick and the Roman Oculus Malus.  The imagery is particularly ingrained in the Republic of Türkiye where the symbolism is visible on symbol on currency, in architecture and interior design, one often hung from the necks of new-born children and even farm animals.

Freemason Evil Eye talisman.

Also known as the “Eye of Providence”, the symbol is not only part of Masonic ritualism but it appears on both the reverse of the US dollar bill (in a pyramid’s top cap) and the nation’s Great Seal.  Although many of the founding fathers of the US were confessed Freemasons, the official line is the unfinished pyramid was intended to symbolise “strength and duration”, with the 13 levels representing the original states which formed the US while the eye was there to acknowledge God’s sympathetic oversight of the fledgling nation.  It’s claimed the Freemasons had no involvement in these choices and that the cult didn’t begin publicly to display the evil eye until well into the eighteenth century.  Whether prior to that they used it in secret is of course unknown except to them and also a mystery is whether every member of the Secret Society of the Les Clefs d’Or is required to wear a concealed Masonic talisman.  It’s never been denied and unless there’s a defection, that too may remain a secret.

The Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman, 1974-1976

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman in Sable Black over Dark Blue Medici Cloth.

Even by the standards of the American automobile of the time, the 1971 Cadillac was big.  Replacing the previous range which had run from 1965-1970, engineering innovations were limited and the changes mostly cosmetic, much of the manufacturer’s attentions now devoted to conforming with the onrush of safety and pollution control legislation being imposed by governments (the Californian authorities, cognizant of the conditions (climatic & social) which made pollution in Los Angeles and San Francisco a particular concern, becoming more rigorous than Washington DC or the other 49 states).  In 1971 however, although somewhat detuned, the 472 cubic inch (7.7 litre) V8 was still rated at 365 gross horsepower and, with the emission controls still only rudimentary, retained the characteristics which by the early 1960s had meant Detroit’s full-sized were acknowledged to have the world’s most refined engine-transmission combinations.  Even though typically weighing over 5000 lbs (2300 kg) and built with few concessions to aerodynamic efficiency, 1971 Cadillacs had power enough for performance to be described usually as "effortless".

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman in Cotillion White over Dark Blue Medici Cloth.

Production volumes dropped in 1971 but that was because of difficulties in industrial relations and once new agreements were in place, sales quickly rebounded, records set in 1972 and again in 1973, Cadillac for the first time, producing more than 300,000 cars.  There were however warning signs on the 1973 cars.  Although not yet the battering-rams later bolted on, the bumper bars had grown bigger and heavier and, for the first time, the emission controls began to be noticed, becoming intrusive by 1974, drivability suffering, power down and fuel consumption up.  The typical Cadillac owner might not have been much troubled by the gas (petrol) bill but they certainly noted, and complained about, the loss of power and occasionally stuttering engines; much worse was to come.  1973 would be the last good year for the “old” American economy which, sustained by the unusual circumstances of the post-war boom had, with the odd minor glitch, maintained an unprecedented general prosperity for over twenty years.  A generation now existed which knew no other world but the world shifted on 17 October 1973 when OAPEC (the Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries) imposed the first oil embargo, ending the boom which had been fed by cheap, limitless energy.  Suddenly, in the US, not only was gas more expensive, the cost of a barrel of oil having quadrupled overnight, but there were, at least briefly, genuine shortages.  Even Cadillac owners with money enough to pay for a tank of gas found themselves in long queues, sometimes not able to find any for sale.

1972 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight Regency front compartment in Black.

It was a short, sharp shock; oil supplies within months began again to flow but prices remained high.  Cadillac sales fell twenty-odd percent in 1974 but it was actually a good result, the company continuing to dominate its market sector, its performance better than many.  The performance of the cars was less impressive, the bumpers ever bigger, the power lower and the driveability issues caused by the emission control devices worse.  At the time, there wasn’t much Cadillac could (or was prepared) to do about these things but resources were found to add even more luxury.  For years, the industry had been creating ever fancier versions of its lines, even the lower-priced being augmented with luxury versions, sometimes called “Brougham”, a phenomenon which the website Curbside Classic dubbed "the great brougham era" and date from Ford's 1965 introduction of the "LTD" option for the Galaxie: to that Chevrolet responded with the Caprice and the bling race had begun.  Neither of those modest tart-up jobs troubled the thoughts of the Cadillac board but, although domestically, Cadillac had long faced competition from Lincoln and Imperial, what must have been galling in the milieu of the great brougham era was the threat which later emerged from within.  Oldsmobile, two notches down the General Motors (GM) pecking list from Cadillac, in 1972 introduced a special "anniversary" version of their top-of-the-range Ninety-Eight four-door hardtop, the package including not just tufted velour upholstery but finished it in the "loose pillow" style beloved by interior decorators.  In the Oldsmobile, the "pillows" were fixed rather than loose but the look was there. 

Regency at Tiffany's: Publicity shot for 1972 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight Regency.  All the "anniversary" Regency models were four-door hardtops in a specially mixed shade of gold with the choice of a "Black" or "Covet Gold" velor interior.  In 1971-1976, the full-size Oldsmobiles and Cadillacs were all built on GM's shared C-Body platform, differing in external panels, internal trim, engines and detailing.  At a distance, many would have found it difficult to tell C-Body Oldsmobile from a Cadillac.  

By 1972, there were so many “Broughams” on the market Oldsmobile must have thought the tag was becoming a bit common so to mark the company’s 75^th anniversary, they called their new creation the “Regency”.  Vague as many Americans might have been about the origin of “brougham”, most probably assumed “regency” had something to do with royalty so as an associative pointer it was good.  The Ninety-Eight Regency in 1972 was however as audacious as the LTD had half-a-decade earlier been tentative because it was beyond Cadillacesque in its aspirations; nothing in Cadillac’s showrooms could match the conspicuous opulence of the Regency’s black or gold, “pillow effect”, tufted velour upholstery.  A run of 2,650 Ninety-Eight Regency cars was built and they were so well-received a (non-anniversary) model was in 1973 added to the range as a regular production model.  By 1982, Oldsmobile must have concluded the message needed again to be drummed into buyers so they introduced the Regency Brougham.

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman rear compartment in Dark Blue Medici Cloth with optional pillows.  The pillows (which many would have described as "cushions") were also available on the Talismans trimmed in leather.  The world should have more leather pillows.

The Regency package was a US$372 option for the Ninety-Eight which had a base price of US$5097.60.  In Cadillac’s boardroom, as the brochure was passed around the table, it must have seemed act of impertinence and one which GM’s management once would not have tolerated.  The so-called “Sloan ladder of success” was conceived by Alfred P Sloan (1875–1966; president of General Motors (GM) 1923-1937 and chairman of the board 1937-1946)) and the idea was that as a customer’s wealth increased, they would take the “next step on the ladder”; by 1930 that ladder had nine rungs with Chevrolet at the bottom and Cadillac the top.  That meant the “middle class” had seven GM brands to choose from, all positioned at ascending “price points” and what this meant was a customer could advertise their increasing wealth and upward social mobility by moving up a rung, trading in their car for one a rung (or more) up in the hierarchy.  For the system to work, it was important the products of one division not trespass into the bailiwick of another and in Mr Sloan's time this discipline was maintained.

Of course, while one can climb a ladder, one can also climb down and a former Cadillac buyer finding themselves in circumstances so reduced as to have to visit the Chevrolet dealer might have been said to be on the “Sloan ladder of failure”.  Nor was it socially obligatory for the rich to ascend to the top rung.  Before her first husband became president, Jacqueline Kennedy (1929-1994; US First Lady 1961-1963) went to old Joe Kennedy (1888–1969) and told him she’d like to buy a Ford Thunderbird on the basis: “What could be More American than that?”  Promptly she was told: “The Kennedys drive Buicks!”  Actually even that wasn’t always true because the car Ted Kennedy (1932–2009) drove off a bridge in the “Chappaquiddick Incident” was a 1967 Oldsmobile Delmont 88 (not even the most expensive Oldsmobile) which belonged to his mother.  The crash happened shortly before midnight on 18 July 1969, after the then senator had left a cocktail party in the company of Mary Jo Kopechne (1940-1969) who had worked on Robert F Kennedy’s (RFK, 1925–1968; US attorney general 1961-1964) presidential campaign in 1968.  Ms Kopechne died in the crash, Senator Kennedy not reporting the matter for more than ten hours after he left the scene.  The ladder was fully evolved by 1929, the rungs tagged thus:

Chevrolet: The entry-level range with the lowest price; a high volume “value for money” pitch using the concept perfected by Ford's Model T (1908-1927).

Pontiac: Introduced in 1926, the Pontiac would once perhaps have been called the “Chevrolet Deluxe” but it was in the 1920s the ages of mass-consumerism and modern marketing began; the creation of a separate nameplate was an indication of how the techniques of capitalism were evolving.

Oldsmobile: Before the brand-name proliferation, Oldsmobile was GM’s classic “middle-class” car, sitting between Chevrolet and Buick.

Marquette: Marquette existed only between 1929–1930 and was a product of a gap existing in Mr Sloan’s price-point structure between Oldsmobile and Buick.  Again, the view was it was better to have a defined range in the segment rather than an “Oldsmobile Deluxe” or dilute the appeal of the next rung with a lower-cost Buick.

Oakland: Oakland was unusual in that it pre-existed Pontiac, the latter introduced as Oakland’s more expensive companion but, because Pontiac proved much more successful, it would survive the later cull while Oakland would be axed.

Buick: The classic upper-middle-class brand, offering luxury and performance but without the exclusivity of a Cadillac.

Viking: Another short-lived (1929–1930) venture, Viking was the premium companion to Oldsmobile and slotted between Buick and LaSalle.

LaSalle: Best thought of as cheaper Cadillac, it was another of the brands there to avoid diluting things with an “entry level Cadillac” which of course it was in all but name.

Cadillac: The top rung, competing not only high-end domestic brands like Packard, Duesenberg and Lincoln but also the best of the Europeans.

The effects of the Great Depression meant the experiment didn’t last and GM would soon to revert to six divisions, the newcomers Viking and Marquette axed while Pontiac, which had proved both more successful and profitable than the shuttered Oakland, survived, joining LaSalle which lingered until 1940 and then there were five.  Even then five was debatably at least one too many but the ladder survived into the post-war years when economic conditions suited the structure and by the mid-1950s both Ford and Chrysler were emulating the model although for both it proved a brief fling.  By the twenty-first century, GM was down to three (Chevrolet, Buick & Cadillac), Ford two (Ford, Lincoln) and Chrysler two (Dodge, Chrysler (although they separated the pickup business as RAM)).

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman rear compartment in Medium Saddle leather.

Cadillac scrambled to respond to the implications of the Regency, offering in 1973 the d'Elegance package, a US$750 option which included a plusher interior and a bundle of otherwise optional features.  However, all the d'Elegance stuff did was match what others were doing and there was still the corporate memory of the Cadillac mystique, a hankering for the time when Cadillac had been the “standard of the world”, a reputation built in the 1930s on basic engineering such as 16-cylinder engines and maintained a generation later with cars such as the Eldorado Brougham, one time the term "Brougham" described something truly impressive.  By 1974 the world had changed and such extravagances were no longer commercially viable (in truth 400 Eldorado Broughams made for 1957 didn't make a profit either) but what could still be done was to add more "gingerbread" so for 1974, Cadillac announced the Talisman package (option code V4U).  Much more expensive than the d'Elegance and consequently that much more exclusive, the Talisman included an extended centre console, the front section housing an illumined writing tablet, the rear a storage compartment.  This had been done before but never with this opulence although it had the effect of reducing the huge car, a size which historically been a six-seater, into something strictly for four and as a marketing strategy, that made sense, indifference to practicality a signifier of wealth.  The interior was available in four colors in "Medici crushed velour" at US$1800 or in two shades in leather at US$2450 at a time when the Chevrolet Vega, GM’s entry-level sub-compact cost US$2087; "Medici crushed velour" had about the same relationship with history as Chrysler's "fine Corinthian leather".  The Talisman additionally gained matching deep-pile interior carpeting and floor-mats, a fully padded "elk grain" vinyl roof, exterior badge identifications, a stand-up, full-colour wreath & crest hood ornament and unique wheel-covers.  For those who needed more, for an additional US$85, a matching pillow and robe was available, the latter unfortunately not cut in leather.  Optioned with the leather package, a 1974 Cadillac Talisman cost about US$13,200, matching what the company charged for the even bigger Fleetwood 75 limousines.  The additional gingerbread wasn’t all that expensive to produce; what Cadillac was selling was exclusivity and the market responded, 1898 Talismans coming off the production line that year, all sold at a most impressive profit.  The interior trim choices in 1974 were:

510 Black Medici Cloth.
525 Dark Blue Medici Cloth.
546 Medium Amber Medici Cloth.
548 Dark Terra Cotta Medici Cloth.
565 Dark Blue Leather.
585 Medium Saddle Leather.

Most prized today are the relative handful trimmed in leather, the orthodoxy in the collector market that all were in Medium Saddle.  If any were sold with the Dark Blue leather, none appear now to exist and Cadillac’s records don’t list the production breakdown.

1975 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman front compartment in Dark Rosewood Medici Cloth.

The leather option didn’t survive beyond the first season, four colors of velour the only Talisman choices in 1975 and gone too was the rear-console extension, reportedly because of feedback from dealers who noted the comments from customers expressing a preference for the flexibility to carry an additional passenger.  It was an era of high inflation so the deletion of the hardware secured only a two-dollar reduction in price and in the gloomy economic climate of 1975, sales dropped to 1238.  The big platform, which had seemed so appropriate a half-decade earlier, was in its last days, a dinosaur unable to adapt to the shock of a strange new environment but for its final fling there were minor improvements.  Although engine size had been increased to 500 cubic inches (8.2 litres), output was down to 190 horsepower (although this was less of a drop than it may appear from the 365 of 1971 because of the change in quoting power from gross to net) but the addition of catalytic convertors and, later in the year, fuel injection, did allow some retuning, improving drivability.  The bumpers were the biggest yet and fuel economy, although improved, remained dire.  The interior trim choices in 1975 were:

19B Black Medici Cloth.
29B Dark Blue Medici Cloth.
51B Medium Maize Medici Cloth.
79B Dark Rosewood Medici Cloth.

1976 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman front compartment in Black Medici Cloth.

The end of the line came in 1976, the final year for the big Cadillacs which had evolved over three quarters of a century.  With so much corporate energy devoted to the new, smaller cars, on the dinosaurs changes were restricted mostly to trim and detailing although the newly-lawful rectangular headlights, adopted throughout the industry to permit lower hood (bonnet) lines and thereby (slightly) slipperier aerodynamics, were spliced in.  Inside, new interior colors were offered and simulated Rosewood replaced the equally fake distressed pecan vinyl appliqués on the instrument panel, doors, and rear quarter trim.  Inspired by the Oldsmobile Regency which had caused such a stir in 1972, soft, thickly pillowed seats were now standard and the d'Elegance package with its accoutrements could still be added but bowing out after 1976 would be both the 500 cubic inch V8 and the Talisman package, available for its swansong in five colors at US$1813.  GM made no secret this was the last year of the big Cadillacs and sales spiked, a new record of 309,139 cars of which 1200 were Talismans.  Befitting the funereal atmosphere, the interior trim choices in 1976 were restricted to somber black & blue:

19E Black Medici Cloth.
26E Dark Blue Medici Cloth.

1976 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman.

Pillow

Pillow (pronounced pil-oh)

(1) A bag or case made of cloth that is filled with feathers, down, or other soft material, and is used to cushion the head during sleep or rest.

(2) Any similar construction used to cushion the head; a type of headrest.

(3) In lace-making, a hard cushion or pad that supports the pattern and threads in the making of bobbin lace (also called lace pillow).

(4) In ship-building, a supporting piece or part, as the block on which the inner end of a bowsprit (a spar projecting over the prow of a sailing vessel to provide the means of adding sail surface) rests.

(5) In geology, as “pillow lava”, the rock type resembling the shape of a typical pillow, formed when lava emerges from an underwater volcanic vent or a lava flow enters the ocean.

(6) In engineering, as “pillow block”, a piece of wood or metal, forming a support to equalize pressure (historically known also a “brass”, an allusion to the alloy once commonly used for such purposes.

(7) In engineering, the socket of a pivot.

(8) A kind of plain, coarse fustian (a coarse fabric made originally from cotton and flax and now a coarse fabric of twilled cotton or a cotton & linen mix).

(9) With and without modifiers (love pillows; dirty pillows etc) and usually in the plural, yet another slang term for the human female's breasts.

(10) To rest on a pillow.

(11) To support with pillows.

(12) To serve as a pillow for some purpose.

1450s: From the Middle English pillow & pilow, (a head-rest used by a person reclining, especially a soft, elastic cushion filled with down, feathers etc), from the earlier pilwe, from the Old English pylwe, pylu & pyle (cushion, bed-cushion, pillow), from West Germanic noun pulwi & pulwin (source also of the Old Saxon puli, the Middle Dutch polu, the Dutch peluw, the Old High German pfuliwi and the German Pfühl), from the Proto-West Germanic pulwī (pillow), borrowed (possibly as early as the second century) from the Latin pulvinus (a little cushion, small pillow) of uncertain origin but some etymologists have speculated the construct may have been the Latin pulvis (dust, powder) +‎ -īnus (-ine) (in the sense of the filler of a pillow).  The suffix -īnus (-ine) was from the Proto-Italic -īnos, from the primitive Indo-European –iHnos and was cognate with the Ancient Greek -ινος (-inos) and the Proto-Germanic -īnaz.  In use it was added to a noun base (especially a proper noun) to form an adjective conveying the sense “of or pertaining to” and could indicate a relationship of position, possession, or origin.  The modern English spelling dates from the 1450s.  Pillow & pillowing are nouns & verbs, pillowed is a verb & adjectice and pillowless, pillowy, pillowlike & pillowesque are adjectives; the noun plural is pillows.

Pillowslips (left) in the typical combination of (1) a pair in a matching set with sheets & (2) a pair in a set matching the duvet cover and a quartet of pillowshams (right).  

Use of the pillowcase (washable enclosure drawn over a pillow and known also as a “pillowslip”) probably long predates the first known use of the term in 1745 but the emergence in the 1860s of the “pillowsham” is likely indicative of the tastes of the rising middle-class.  The pillowsham can be thought of as the archetypal middle class accessory and while structurally similar to a pillow case, in the jargon of interior decorators they are distinct.  A pillowcase (or pillowslip) is a basic and close-fitting cover which encases a pillow to protect it and provide a comfortable surface for sleeping.  Typically, pillowcases are made from soft, washable fabrics like cotton, linen, or microfiber and usually feature an open end with a flap; most are simple in design although there can be frills (though not fringes which are restricted to cushions) and the fabric tends to be either a solid color or matching the rest of the bed linen (ie as part of a set).  A pillowsham is a decorative cover for a pillow, often used on beds to add style rather than for everyday sleeping and some shams placed over pillows for decorative effect are removed or placed at the back when someone is sleeping.  Pillowshams are much associated with intricate designs (embroidery, ruffles, textured fabric and worse) and usually have an opening at the back, often closed with buttons, a zipper, or an overlapping flap to hide the closure.  Sham (intended to deceive; false; act of fakery) is thought probably to have been a dialectal form of shame (reproach incurred or suffered; dishonour; ignominy; derision) from the Middle English schame, from the Old English sċamu, from Proto-Germanic skamō.  Thus, while interior decorators may have no shame, they certainly have shams.

Pillowsham is the generic term for these items (whether put over a pillow or cushion) and “cushionsham” is not part of the jargon; the terms pillowcase, pillowslip & pillowsham appear variously also as separate words and hyphenated.  The pillowsham is notorious for its use as a platform for kitsch and Adolf Hitler’s (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) mountain home (the Berghof in the Obersalzberg of the Bavarian Alps near Berchtesgaden, Bavaria) featured many, sent to him by his many female admirers.  At the aesthetic level, he of course didn't approve but appreciated the gesture although they seem never to have appeared in photographs of the house’s principle rooms, banished to places like the many surrounding buildings including the conservatory of Hans Wichenfeld (the chalet on which the was Berghof based).

Hitler's study in the Berghof with only matched cushions (left) and the conservatory (centre & right) with some pillowshams (embroidered with swastikas and the initials A.H.).

In the US, Life magazine in October 1939 (a few weeks after the Nazis had invaded Poland) published a lush color feature focused on Hitler’s paintings and the Berghof, the piece a curious mix of what even then were called “human-interest stories”, political commentary and artistic & architectural criticism.  One heading :“Paintings by Adolf Hitler: The Statesman Longs to Be an Artist and Helps Design His Mountain Home” illustrates the flavor but this was a time before the most awful aspects of Nazi rule were understood and Life’s editors were well-aware a significant proportion of its readership were well disposed towards Hitler’s regime.  Still, there was some wry humor in the text, assessing the Berghof as possessing the qualities of a “…combination of modern and Bavarian chalet” styles, something “awkward but interesting” while the interiors, “…designed and decorated with Hitler’s active collaboration, are the comfortable kind of rooms a man likes, furnished in simple, semi-modern, sometimes dramatic style. The furnishings are in very good taste, fashioned of rich materials and fine woods by the best craftsmen in the Reich.”  Life seemed to be most taken with the main stairway leading up from the ground floor which was judged “a striking bit of modern architecture.”  Whether or not the editors were aware Hitler thought “modern architecture” suitable only for factories, warehouses and such isn’t clear.  They also had fun with what hung on the walls, noting: “Like other Nazi leaders, Hitler likes pictures of nudes and ruins” but anyway concluded that “in a more settled Germany, Adolf Hitler might have done quite well as an interior decorator.”  There was no comment on the Führer’s pillows and cushions.

Whatever Life’s views on him as potential interior decorator, decades later, his architect was prepared to note the dictator’s “beginner’s mistake” in the building’s design.  In Erinnerungen (Memories or Reminiscences) and published in English as Inside the Third Reich (1969)), Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) recalled:

“A huge picture window in the living room, famous for its size and the fact that it could be lowered, was Hitler s pride.  It offered a view of the Untersberg, Berchtesgaden, and Salzburg. However, Hitler had been inspired to situate his garage underneath this window; when the wind was unfavorable, a strong smell of gasoline penetrated into the living room.  All in all, this was a ground plan that would have been graded D by any professor at an institute of technology. On the other hand, these very clumsinesses gave the Berghof a strongly personal note. The place was still geared to the simple activities of a former weekend cottage, merely expanded to vast proportions.”

He commented also on the pillowshams: “The furniture was bogus old- German peasant style and gave the house a comfortable petit-bourgeois look.  A brass canary cage, a cactus, and a rubber plant intensified this impression.  There were swastikas on knickknacks and pillows embroidered by admiring women, combined with, say, a rising sun or a vow of "eternal loyalty."  Hitler commented to me with some embarrassment: "I know these are not beautiful things, but many of them are presents.  I shouldn't like to part with them."

Life’s assessment of Hitler’s alternative career path as an interior decorator wasn’t the first time the observation had been made of a head of state & government.  Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924; US president 1913-1921) had gone to the Paris Peace Conference (1919) determined above all to secure the agreement of all parties to the creation of the League of Nations (1920-1946) and this he pursued with a vigour not matched by other leaders present, all of who had a focus on the immediate needs of their own countries.  Wilson, knowing political pressure on him was rising in the US and whose health had long been fragile, found the negotiations exhausting and doctors in recent years have concluded he likely suffered several small strokes while in Paris, a prelude to the major event later in the year which substantially would incapacity him for the remainder of his presidency.

Wilson’s personal physician (Cary Grayson (1878–1938) had accompanied him to the conference and in his diary noted one manifestation of what he described as “the strain” when, after hours of “intense discussion” on matters ranging from tiresome US senators to the treaty terms sought by the delegation from Japan to the arraignment of the former Kaiser Wilhelm II (1859–1941; German Emperor & King of Prussia 1888-1918), the president suddenly made an announcement.

“I don’t like the way the colors of this furniture fight each other. The greens and the reds are all mixed up here and there is no harmony.  Here is a big purple, high-backed covered chair, which is like the Purple Cow, strayed off to itself, and it is placed where the light shines on it too brightly.  If you will give me a lift, we will move this next to the wall where the light from the window will give it a subdued effect.  And here are two chairs, one green and the other red.  This will never do.  Let’s put the greens all together and the reds together.”  He went on to relate to his doctor how at the “Council of Four” (the leaders of France, Italy, the US & UK) meeting how “…each delegation walked like schoolchildren each day to its respective corner.  Now, with the furniture regrouped, he said each country would sit according to its color.”  Dr Grayson attributed the “aberrant behaviour” to “stress” and prescribed only going for a drive in an automobile, remarking to his patient: “I think if you ever want a job after leaving the presidency you would make a great success as an interior decorator.”  Wilson concurred, answering: “I don’t mean to throw bouquets at myself but I do think that I have made a success of the arrangement of the furniture.”

Woodrow Wilson’s bedroom in the Washington DC townhouse where he lived after leaving office.

Mrs Wilson fitted-out the bedroom on S Street, Kalorama almost to exactly replicate the one he’d used at the White House, down to the footrests, pillows and reading lights.  Mrs Wilson commissioned the bed to be exactly the imposing dimensions (8 feet, 6 inches x 6 feet, 6 inches (2590 x 1981 mm)) of the White House’s Lincoln Bed; built in Grand Rapids, Michigan in a colonial revival style, it's made of mahogany.  After his stroke in October, 1919, Wilson substantially was confined to his bed and it was in this bed he died on 3 February, 1924, aged 67.  He was buried at the Washington National Cathedral, the only US president whose body lies in the national capital.

The "furniture incident" is now assessed in the light of the knowledge of the president’s previous neurological issues and analysts since have compared the behaviour to that of the anorexic who takes control of their diet because it is one thing they are able completely and immediately to control, in contrast to other aspects of their life which they have come to believe they are unable to influence and neurologists who have written on the subject do seem to agree a stroke would likely have induced the episode.  In October 1919, shortly after returning to the US, Wilson suffered a major stroke, us stroke, leaving him paralyzed on his left side, and with only partial vision in the right eye.  Despite this, he continued in office until his term expired in 1921 though he was physically isolated and few were able to see him except his wife and doctor, a situation not greatly different from the situation in 1953 when Winston Churchill’s (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) son-in-law for months acted as something of a prime-ministerial proxy in the aftermath of Churchill’s massive stroke.  The ad-hoc apparatus constructed by Mrs Wilson and Dr Grayson had led some claim she was, in effect, the nation’s “first female president” and while that’s drawing a long bow, it was something discussed in 2024 when Joe Biden’s (b 1942; US president 2021-2025) descent into senility was a topic of interest.  The roles played by of Dr Grayson, Lord Moran (Charles Wilson, 1882-1977, personal physician to prime minister Winston Churchill) and Ross McIntire (1889–1959; personal physician to Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, US president 1933-1945)) remain controversial and reflect the sometimes conflicting duality of responsibility a physician has (1) to their patient and (2) their patient’s position as head of government.

Lindsay Lohan themed pillows are available.

“Pillow dictionary” was a synonym of “sleeping dictionary” (a sexual partner who also serves as a native informant or language teacher for an outsider).  It was thus something of a euphemism for a tutor in a foreign language who, as is implied, gives “tuition in bed”; the term said (as might be expected) to be used more commonly used by men of women than vice versa.  Those who practice hypnopaedic techniques use a different kind of dictionary.  Hypnopedia (or hypnopædia) was a form of “sleep-learning (or sleep-teaching) and was an attempt to convey information to a sleeping person, typically by playing a sound recording to them while they sleep.  Because the role of sleep in memory consolidation had come to be understood, the hypothesis of hypnopedia was not unreasonable but it has been wholly discredited.

The “pillow fight” (a form of domestic mock-combat fought using pillows as weapons) is presumably a most ancient practice but the first known reference is from 1837.  Pillows being much associated with beds, in idiomatic use, the pillow naturally features in phrases associated with sex.  The slang “pillow talk” (relaxed, intimate conversation between a couple in bed) is doubtlessly more ancient still but the term may not have been used prior to 1939 and it now carries the implication of some indiscrete disclosure, often in the context of politics or espionage).  A “pillow word” was a calque of the Japanese 枕詞 (makurakotoba) and described the use in Waka (和歌) (Japanese poem) of a poetic device in which a certain introductory phrase is commonly used to allude to something else.

Jeremy Thorpe arriving at Minehead Magistrates Court, 4 December 1978, for the famous "pillow biter" trial.

The matter was committal proceedings against him and three others on charges of conspiring to murder former male model Norman Scott.  Ultimately Mr Thorpe was acquitted of all charges.  The car is a Rover 3500S (P6).  3500S was the original designation of the 3500s sold during the model's abortive foray (1970-1971) into the US market but elsewhere was used to designate the version offered with a four-speed manual transmission (1971-1977), the original introduced in 1968 exclusively in automatic form.

A “pillow queen” was a woman concerned only with her own gratification during sex and interestingly, the equivalent creature among lesbians was apparently more often a “pillow princess”, both classified as “takers” rather than “givers”, the synonyms in the vernacular including “stone”, “rock”, “slate”, “cold fish”, “dead fish” and “starfish”.  The more evocative phrase “pillow-biter” seems first to have entered general use after it was used by Norman Scott (b 1940) when giving evidence in the 1979 trial of Jeremy Thorpe (1929–2014; leader of the UK Liberal Party 1967-1976), the witness describing the way he handled his unwilling participation as the alleged victim of Mr Thorpe committing upon him what in some jurisdictions used to be called “the abominable crime of buggery”: “I just bit the pillow, I tried not to scream because I was frightened of waking Mrs Thorpe.”  A pillow-biter is thus (in certain circles of the LGBTQQIAAOP communities) a “gay man who engages in passive anal sex”; a “bottom”, as opposed to Mr Thorpe who allegedly was a “top”.

Pillowbook describes a journal-type book kept to record sexual dreams and escapades, most intended only for the eyes of the writer.  It was a specific form of a quite commonplace book which appears to have originated in Japan as a compilation of notes & jottings, those periodic or occasional writings that might go into an extended diary.  The most famous example (and among the earliest extant) was the The Pillow Book (枕草子) (Makura no Sōshi) (Notes of the Pillow), a volume of observations and musings recorded by Sei Shōnagon (清少納言), circa 966–circa 1020, a lady of the court to Fujiwara no Teishi (藤原 定子) 977–1001 (known also as Sadako), an empress consort of the Japanese Emperor Ichijō (一条天皇) (Ichijō-tennō), 980–1011; 66^th emperor of Japan, 986-1011; the last entries in the book were made in the year 1002.  According to Japanese legend, the origin of the pillow book lies in a bundle of unused notebooks being brought to the empress who began musing on what should be done with them.  The lady-in-waiting suggested she should have them and make them into a pillow (which meant putting them into the drawers of “a wooden pillow” (a part of the Japanese sleeping apparatus).  Subsequently, she filled the notebooks with random facts, lists and discursive jottings and from this tradition came the traditional Japanese genre zuihitsu (随筆) (occasional writings) which exists still, describing a form of literature consisting of loosely connected personal essays and fragmentary ideas typically influenced by the author's surroundings and daily interactions with them.

1972 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight Regency brochure.

“Loose pillow” upholstery had been in furniture for a while, implemented usually as detachable cushions designed to be removed for cleaning but it was Oldsmobile which first used the concept for automobiles.  Since the mid 1960s “luxury” versions (as opposed to mere “deluxe” editions which often included just a bundle of options anyway available on a “standard” car at a discount compared with ordering them individually) had begun to appear and this would evolve into what came to be called “the great Brougham era”.  That term seems to have been invented by Curbside Classic, a curated website which is a gallimaufry of interesting content, built around the theme of once-familiar and often everyday vehicles which are now a rare sight until discovered by Curbside Classic’s contributors (who self-style as "curbivores"), parked next to some curb.  These are the often the machines neglected by automotive historians and collectors who prefer things which are fast, lovely or rare.  According to Curbside Classic, the “great brougham era” began in 1965 with the release of the LTD option for the mass-market Ford Galaxie and that approach was nothing new because even the Galaxie name had in 1959 been coined for a "luxury" version of the Fairlane 500, a trick the US industry had been using for some time.

1972 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight Regency brochure.  When the tufted, pillowed option was chosen in red velour, it was known casually as "mid-priced bordello chic".

Once, Detroit’s most elaborate interiors had been restricted to the top-of the range models (Cadillac, Lincoln & Imperial) but when Oldsmobile in introduced the “Regency” option for their Ninety-Eight range, it was quite a jump in middle-class opulence and it must have been galling for Cadillac: Oldsmobile, two notches down the GM pecking list from Cadillac had in one stroke out-done Cadillac’s interiors with not just tufted velour upholstery but the novelty also of the welcoming loose pillow style.  Cadillac had nothing like it but scrambled to respond, offering in 1973 the d'Elegance package, a US$750 option which included pillow-style velour seating as well as a more plush carpeting and bundled a few of the otherwise optional features.

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman rear compartment in blue velour with optional pillows.  The pillows (which many would have described as "cushions") were also available on Talismans trimmed in leather.  The world should have more leather pillows but, unfortunately, while "Cadillac pillows" are available, they come only in fabric.  The so-called "holy grail" among Talisman collectors is a 1974 model in blue leather which was listed as a factory option but no such machine has ever been sighted and Cadillac's production records don't provide a color breakdown.  It's thought likely none were ever built.

However, all the d'Elegance bling did was match what others were doing and there was still the corporate memory of the Cadillac mystique, a hankering for the time when Cadillac had been the “standard of the world”, a reputation built in the 1930s on basic engineering such as almost unique sixteen cylinder engines and maintained a generation later with cars such as the Eldorado Brougham, times when the name stood for something truly impressive.  By 1974 the world had changed and such extravagances were no longer possible but what could still be done was to add more gingerbread and for 1974, Cadillac announced the Talisman package.  Much more expensive than the d'Elegance and consequently more exclusive, the Talisman included an extended centre console, the front section housing an illumined writing tablet, the rear a storage compartment.  This had been done before but never with this opulence although it had the effect of reducing the huge car, a size which historically been a six-seater, into something strictly for four.  The interior was available in four colors in "Medici" crushed velour at US$1800 or in two shades in leather at US$2450 at a time when the Chevrolet Vega, GM’s entry-level automobile of the era cost US$2087.  The Talisman additionally gained matching deep-pile interior carpeting and floor-mats, a fully padded elk grain vinyl roof, exterior badge identifications, a stand-up, full-color wreath and crest hood ornament and unique wheel-covers.  For those who needed more, for an additional US$85, a matching pillow and robe was available although the robe unfortunately wasn't cut in leather.  Optioned with the leather package, a 1974 Cadillac Talisman cost about US$13,200, matching what the company charged for the even bigger Fleetwood 75 limousines.  The additional gingerbread wasn’t all that expensive to produce; what Cadillac was selling was exclusivity and the market responded, 1898 Talismans coming off the production line that year, all sold at a most impressive profit.  Most prized today are the relative handful trimmed in leather, the urban legend being all were in medium saddle with none in the dark blue which was on the option list.  If any were sold with the blue leather, none appear now to exist and Cadillac’s records don’t record the breakdown.

1974 Imperial LeBaron four-door hardtop (left) in chestnut tufted leather though not actually “fine Corinthian leather” which was (mostly) exclusive to the Cordoba (1975-1983) until late 1975 when not only did the Imperial's brochures mention "genuine Corinthian leather (available at extra cost)" but for the first time since 1954 the range was referred to as the "Chrysler Imperial", a harbinger the brand was about to be retired.  Imperial's advertising copy noted of the brochure photograph above: “...while the passenger restraint system with starter interlock is not shown, it is standard on all Imperials.”; the marketing types didn't like seat-belts messing up their photos.  While all of the big three (GM, Ford & Chrysler) had tufted interiors in some lines, it was Chrysler which displayed the most commitment to the motif.

Fashions change and the 1997 Buick Park Avenue (right) was the last of the "pillowed cars".  The loose pillow style certainly caught on although the name was a little misleading because the pillows were loose only in the sense of moving a little to accommodate the frames sitting on them and were not removable.  In the showroom they looked good and attracted many buyers but were noted also for the propensity to trap crumbs, small coins and the other detritus of life in the many folds, tufts and crevasses.  The fad lasted for more than a generation and Detroit’s last fling of the pillow was the 1997 Buick Park Avenue.

Built-in foam pillows: 1972 Imperial LeBaron four-door hardtop (left) and 1977 Chrysler New Yorker Brougham four-door hardtop (right).

Chrysler corporation’s implementation of the “loose pillow look” was the industry’s most sumptuous and on the more expensive in the range, the look extended even to “built-in foam pillows” affixed to the C-pillars, a luxury for dozing customers and these were the sort of cars which were famous for “floating” effortlessly down freeways so probably it wasn’t uncommon for folk in the back to be lulled into sleep; the huge machines of the 1970s were nicknamed “land yachts” with good reason.  The pillows also proved to be dual-purpose.  Between 1969-1973, the Imperial’s rear map-reading lamps (maps used to be printed on paper) were located next to the rear windscreen and while they worked as intended, they had a sort of “stuck-on” look which didn’t suit the ambiance of the interior.  When illuminated, they also glowed in the driver’s rear-view mirror and because the stylists were anyway intending to better integrate the units, it was decided to do so in such a way that would make the light unobtrusive for the driver, removing a potential distraction.  The new design made it debut with the 1974 range.

1974 Imperial LeBaron brochure featuring "built-in foam pillows and lavaliere straps".

Chrysler made many mistakes during the 1970s but the basic engineering was usually sound and the new map-reading lamps were indicative of the approach.  Not only did the new lamps offer “increased luminosity” but the glow was now “warmer and softer” which sounds like advertising “puffery” but the terms are an accepted part of the jargon of light and the wider aperture of the lens meant what was cast was in a broader beam, better suited to maps or anything else being read.  The shape of the built-in foam pillows was used also to ensure the light couldn’t distract the driver, the engineers devoting some energy to working out just how much padding should be used to achieve this, while not detracting from the lamp’s functionality.  On the four-door models, there was also on each C-Pillar a “lavaliere strap”.

Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989) in Cadillac presidential limousine demonstrating the correct grip of a lavaliere strap.

“Lavaliere” is a term from jewellery design which describes a pendant (typically with a single stone) suspended from a necklace and presumably Chrysler’s marketing department thought that sounded much better than the more brutish “grab handle”, typified by the later Subaru BRAT, a vehicle in which admittedly they were essential.  On his Californian ranch, Mr Regan kept a Subaru BRAT but removed the tariff-dodging jump seats so didn't have the pleasure of using the grab handles.  The jewellery style was named after Françoise-Louise de La Baume Le Blanc, Duchess of La Vallière and Vaujours (1644–1710) who was, between 1661-1667 (a reasonable run in such a profession), the mistress of Louis XIV (1638–1715; le Roi Soleil (the Sun King), King of France 1643-1715); it’s said the adaptation of her name for the pendants was based on the frequency with which the accessories appeared in her many portraits.

1977 Chrysler (Australia) Valiant Regal SE.

In the era, Chrysler's Australian outpost did cut a few corners when implementing the “pillowed look”, economies achieved by (1) using fewer buttons for the tufting of the fabric or optional leather and (2) attaching the tufted “feature sections” directly to the cushion & squab rather than creating an emulated “pillowed” look (in which a separate piece appears to sit atop the structure).  Even by the time of the release of the CL range (1976-1978) the feeling was the writing was on the wall for the once popular Australian Valiant (1962-1981) and the top-of-the-line Regal SE was created in the Q&D (quick & dirty) way by including all the lesser Regal’s options (including the 318 cubic inch (5.2 litre) V8) as standard equipment; only the tufted upholstery and optional leather was unique to the model.  Sales were modest but there remained a devoted following for the Valiant which was durable enough to endure the sometimes harsh environment and it was highly regarded for its towing capabilities, even when fitted with the lusty six cylinder engines which were the best produced by the local industry.  Built on the US A-body platform, when production ended in 1981 it had lasted a half-decade longer than the Plymouth and Dodge versions sold in the home market and only in Mexico would use continue until 1988.