Tuft

Tuft (pronounced tuhft)

(1) A bunch or cluster of small, usually soft and flexible parts, as feathers or hairs, attached or fixed closely together at the base and loose at the upper ends.

(2) A cluster of short, fluffy threads, used to decorate cloth, as for a bedspread, robe, bath mat, or window curtain.

(3) A cluster of cut threads, used as a decorative finish attached to the tying or holding threads of mattresses, quilts, upholstery, etc.

(4) To furnish or decorate with a tuft or tufts; to arrange in a tuft or tufts.

(5) In the upholstery trade, to draw together (a cushion or the like) by passing a thread through at regular intervals, the depressions thus produced being usually ornamented with tufts or buttons.  Tufts are not merely decorative because they secure and strengthen mattresses, quilts, cushions etc; they act to hinder the movement of the stuffing.

(6) In botany, a small clump of trees or bushes.

(7) A gold tassel on the cap once worn by titled undergraduates at English universities, one of the more blatant class identifiers if the UK’s class system; the word tuft was also applied to those entitled to wear such as tassel and from this use evolved the slang "toff".

1350-1400: From the Middle English toft & tofte (bunch of soft and flexible things fixed at the base with the upper ends loose), an alteration of earlier tuffe (which endures in the Modern English tuff), from the Old French touffe, tuffe, toffe & tofe (tuft of hair (and source of the modern French touffe)), from the Late Latin tufa (a crest on a helmet (also found in Late Greek toupha) and probably of Germanic origin (the Old High German was zopf and the Old Norse was toppr (tuft, summit).  The earlier European forms were the Old English þūf (tuft), the Old Norse þúfa (mound), the Swedish tuva (tussock; grassy hillock), from the Proto-Germanic þūbǭ (tube) & þūbaz.  It was akin to the Latin tūber (hump, swelling) and the Ancient Greek τῡ́φη (tū́phē) (cattail (used to stuff beds)).  The excrescent t (as in against) was an English addition and tuft was used as a verb from the 1530s.  In some contexts, bunch, cluster, collection, cowlick, group, knot, plumage, ruff, shock, topknot & tussock can impart a similar meaning but tuft is better for its specific purpose.  Tuft & tufting are nouns & verbs, tufted is a verb & adjective, tufter is a noun, tuftier & tuftiest are adjectives, tufty is a noun & adjective and tuftily is an adverb; the noun plural is tufts.

Little Miss Muffet in Hell (left) and with MWC's (Motor Wheel Corporation) Spyder wheel (right).  Because the use by European manufacturers lent the spelling "spyder with a y" a tinge of the exotic, it was used in US commerce, MWC of Lansing Michigan dubbing one of their "jellybean style" wheels thus.  The wheel, produced in the early 1970s, used the then popular technique of combining a styled aluminun center with a chromed steel rim.  MWC's wheels were highly regarded for quality and the Spyder was produced for use with disc or drum brakes.  Note the latter day Little Miss Muffet's strategic positioning of the tip of the tongue. 

The 1550s noun tuffet (little tuft) was from the Old French touffel (the diminutive suffix -et replacing the French -el) which was a diminutive of touffe.  In English the word is obsolete except for the use in the nursery rhyme Little Miss Muffet which seems first to have appeared in print in 1805 although it (and variations) may have been circulating much earlier.  Etymologists believe Little Miss Muffet’s tuffet was a grassy hillock or a small knoll in the ground (a variant spelling of an obsolete meaning of tuft).  The latter-day use to refer to a hassock or footstool is an example of how (usually obscure) words can acquire meanings if erroneous definitions are often repeated and come to serve some purpose.  Tuffet for example became a favorite of antique dealers who are apt to call both footstools and low seats “tuffets”, a handy practice perhaps when provenance is doubtful.

Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
There came a big spider,
Who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.

Those whose fear of spiders (and other arachnids, such as scorpions and ticks) is so severe as to adversely affect normal life are said to be arachnophobic.  Although one of the most commonly described anxiety disorders, in the current edition (DSM-5-TR) of the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), arachnophobia is not a diagnostic category but is classified as a sub-type of Specific Phobia, Animal Type, a clinical diagnosis typically described as “Specific Phobia, Animal Type (spiders)”.  The DSM’s criteria for a specific phobia include (1) marked fear or anxiety about a specific object or situation, (2) immediate fear response on exposure, (3) active avoidance or intense distress, (4) fear disproportionate to the actual danger, (5) persistence (typically 6+ months) and (6) and clinically significant impairment or distress.  So, one who merely is not fond of spiders would not meet the DSM’s criteria; the fear must be severe enough to impair functioning or cause substantial distress over at least six months.  The irony is that as well as most spiders being small, non-venomous and not at all anxious to attack humans, co-existing with them and their webs in most cases will improve quality of life by culling the insect population.  For those not convinced, arachnophobia can be treated by a number of therapies including (1) systematic desensitization (a gradual exposure to the source of the distress), (2) the adoption of “calming techniques” which can lower the distress response and (3) CBT (cognitive behaviour therapy), a structured, goal-oriented form of psychotherapy focusing on identifying and changing negative or dysfunctional thought patterns and behaviours.  The estimates vary but all research indicates well under 10% of the global population suffer arachnophobia to the extent a clinician would diagnose with women being significantly more affected.

Tufted furnishings aficionado Lindsay Lohan on tufted leather sofa (left) and in bed with tufted bedhead (right).

Critics of interior design tend not to approve of padded or tufted headboards and the shinier or more pillowy the effect, the greater will be the disparagement.  Such critics probably tend to prefer a minimalist aesthetic and condemn anything which doesn’t conform as outdated, excessive or just in poor taste but that aside, there are practical reasons to avoid the padding because the material can over time collect dust, dirt, and oils, something of concern to allergy sufferers.  The designs can also provide hiding places for the dreaded bed bugs.  Still, there are some who like the “generic luxury hotel room” look and argue they’re a kind of safety feature, banging one’s head on some tufted padding a less troubling event than an impact with one of Ikea’s hard, flat surfaces.  Like any bed, there are advantages and drawbacks, some thing made more comfortable, some close to impossible.

Nobleman in full dress at Cambridge (1815) with golden tuft.

The noun toff began as mid nineteenth century lower-class London slang for "a stylish dresser, a man of the smart set".  It was an alteration of tuft, which was a mid-eighteenth century English university (Oxford & Cambridge) term for students who were members of the aristocracy, a reference to the gold ornamental tassel (or tufts) worn on the academic caps (mortarboards) of undergraduates.  Throughout the “long eighteenth century” (a historian’s term which refers for the epoch running from the Glorious Revolution of 1688 to the Congress of Vienna in 1815 (the “long nineteenth” being 1815-1914 and the “long twentieth” 1914-2001 (ie 9/11))), undergraduates at both Oxford and Cambridge were differentiated into four classes: (1) noblemen, (2) gentlemen, (3) commoner-scholars (fellow-commoners at Cambridge) & (4) servitors (sometimes known at Cambridge as sizars and at Oxford as battelers).  Each of these classes of undergraduates was entitled to a different form of dress, noblemen since 1490 (further clarified in 1576) entitled to wear silk and brocaded gowns of bright colors. Such rich materials emphasized noble status, as did the costly dyes. The gowns had flap collars, Tudor bag sleeves with gold lace decorations (akin to the black lace decorations used today on Oxford gimp gowns) and a velvet round cap with a gold tassel (or tuft) was worn.  Noblemen were technically (if misleadingly) nobiles minorum gentium and included the sons of bishops, knights and baronets and, by resolution of Convocation, could include heirs of esquires.

The right to wear the golden tuft was briefly restricted to those with fathers entitled to sit in the House of Lords while those less blue-blooded were allowed only to a plain black tassel but things gradually became less exclusive until the practice was abandoned in the late nineteenth century but the transfer of sense was inevitable: wearers of golden tufts came to be known as tufts.  Those toadies or sycophants (and there were many) who were slavish followers of the tufts were tufthunters and their antics, tufthunting, such individuals and their habits quite identifiable to this day.  By the 1850s, under the influence of the cockney accent, the word had been transformed into toff (some dictionaries of slang noting toft co-existed in the 1850s but this may have been a mishearing) which endures to refer to anyone rich and powerful although the original sense was of someone apparently well-bred.

1912 Stutz Bear Cat (1912-1934); after 1913 they would be dubbed Bearcat (left) and 1915 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost (Chassis 2BD, 40/50; 1906-1926) limousine by H.A. Hamshaw (right).

One of the fastest and most admired American cars of the early era, the Stutz Bearcat assumed such a place in popular culture, it was was claimed that should anyone die (except by suicide) at the wheel of a Stutz Bearcat, they were granted an obituary in the New York Times (NYT).  Wholly apocryphal, the origin of the romantic myth is thought to be related to the Bearcat being a symbol of wealth, adventure, and daring, owned by the sort of chaps (such a lifestyle at the time was most associated with men although women adventurers were not unknown) who would likely anyway warrant an NYT obituary.  The Bear Cat's tufted leather upholstery was typical (though not universal) of the high priced automobiles of the time although already, elaborate fabrics were appearing in vehicles with enclosed passenger compartments which afforded protection from the elements.  The appointments of 1915 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost were opulent even by the coachbuilding standards of the day (the Edwardian traditions still maintained) but the chauffeur's compartment lacked a roof (the body style really a Sedanca de Ville as were many of the early English "limousines") so was still trimmed in tufted leather.  The more sheltered passengers enjoyed carved ivory door handles, beveled glass windows, cut crystal lamps, an inlaid wood folding table, two jump seats, and door pockets, communications to the chauffeur via a tubular intercom.  The lavish upholstery in the rear was tufted, beige West-of-England cloth with embroidered silk window pulls and trim-work, including rear compartment shades and sliding divider although what usually attracts most comment is the elegant, pleated, cloth rosette headliner with its cloudlike billows.   To make journeys more pleasant, a set of leather-wrapped flasks was mounted in the right rear armrest.

1908 Hotchkiss 16-20 hp Type T Roi des Belges (King of the Belgians) Touring Car with tufted red leather (right) and 1917 Packard Twin Six Touring Car with channel tufted black leather (left).  The term “touring car” was never exactly defined and use varied between UK & US manufacturers but typically it described a large, four-door, 4-6 seat open car, supplied with a folding top and (usually optional) temporary side curtains.  The style went extinct but did fork into the phaeton (no top or side-windows) and the four-door cabriolet (or convertible) (a folding top and retractable side windows).  However, even by the 1930s, the old coachwork terms from the days of horse-drawn vehicles had come to be used with such imprecision the descriptions were sometimes little more than vaguely indicative and in the post-war years they meant whatever manufacturers at the time wanted them to mean.

In the matter of upholstery, the word “tufted” has long been synonymous with “deep buttoned” but in the early days of the automobile. Coach-builders and upholsters would offer the option of “channel tufted” trim which essentially was “tufting without the buttons” although it seems almost always to have been executed only with parallel seams (ie nothing on the diagonal).  Probably because what would now be understood as a “pleated” style was more comfortable for sitting on in a moving object, it became popular in the 1920s.  Of course, what the machinists called the “straight tuck-roll” technique was less labour intensive and used smaller quantities of materials so interiors could be trimmed at lower cost so the incentive was there to make the switch.  The revival of button-tufting in the late twentieth century was not an exercise in mere nostalgia but an expression of conspicuous consumption, the “obviously expensive” look making tufting in the big US cars something of a Veblen good.   

1972 Oldsmobile Ninety Eight Regency advertising.

Tufted leather upholstery was common in early automobiles, the seating often exactly the same as those used in horse-drawn carriages, houses or commercial buildings (and certainly gentlemen's clubs).  The practice faded as production volumes increased and as early as the late 1920s was coming to be restricted to only the most expensive models.  This exclusivity tended to prevail until 1972 when Oldsmobile introduced the Regency option for its full-sized Ninety-Eight (sometimes as "98") models, a package, the visual highlight of which was tufted "loose-pillow" velour upholstery (although unlike the use in furniture where the "pillows" were detachable for cleaning, in the Ninety-Eight they were fixed permanently to the seats.  Suddenly, solidly middle-class Oldsmobile (right in the middle of General Motors’ (GM) five-step (Chevrolet-Pontiac-Oldsmobile-Buick-Cadillac) hierarchy; the so-called "Slone ladder" designed to both facilitate and encourage "upward automotive mobility" conceived by Alfred P Sloan (1875–1966;  president of General Motors (GM) 1923-1937 and Chairman of the Board 1937-1946)) had brought both velour and loose-pillow seating to the masses.  The velour was at the time admired by most buyers (though derided by some critics of design) and as tufted upholstery began to proliferate in the industry it was usually offered as a cheaper alternative to leather.  In some climates the velour was probably the better choice and was welcomingly comfortable although in some of the more strident shades of red could recall the popular idea of how a bordello might be furnished.  Presumably, those who'd never enjoyed a visit to a bordello were more disconcerted than regular customers.

1974 Imperial LeBaron four-door hardtop (left) in chestnut tufted leather though not actually “rich 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, reminding people cars sometimes crash.  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.

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 which appeared 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 time-honored Q&D (quick & dirty) way by including all the less Regal’s options as standard equipment; only the tufted upholstery and optional leather was unique to the model.  Sales were modest but there remained devoted following for the Valiant which was durable enough to endure the sometimes harsh environment and it was highly regarded for its towing capabilities, equipped either with the lusty locally-developed 265 cubic inch (4.3 litre) straight-6 or the imported 318 cubic inch (5.2 litre) V8.  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.

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman.

Oldsmobile's move was as audacious and influential as Ford’s introduction in 1965 of the up-market LTD which, like the Regency package, had the effect of cannibalizing sales from other divisions within the same corporation.  Cadillac, although with a range priced considerably above Oldsmobile, offered nothing with such an ostentatious interior though when it did in 1974 respond with its Talisman package (1974-1976), it made sure it did so with more tufted extravagance still, in 1974 offering leather as well as velour.  The trend the Regency package started would last over twenty years and is remembered especially for the tufted fittings used in Imperials, Chryslers and Dodges, the hides used in the Cordoba range (1975-1983) said to be "rich Corinthian leather", an advertising agency creation which meant nothing in particular but sounded vaguely European and therefore expensive.

1985 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz (left), 1977 Chrysler New Yorker Brougham (centre) and 1989 Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham d' Elegance (right).

Color choice made a big difference to the perception of the "tufted look", more subdued hues like green and blue less confronting than the "bordello red" which became emblematic of the industry's phase.  Cadillac called the fabric in the Fleetwood Talisman "Medici crushed velour" which had about the same relationship to historic truth as "fine Corinthian leather" but the package sold well over the three seasons it was offered, despite the option costing almost as much (and the leather significantly more) as some new cars.  Among collectors, the holy grail is a 1974 Fleetwood Talisman trimmed in blue leather; although it was on the option list, none has ever been sighted and the factory's records don't breakdown production between the blue and the alternative "medium saddle" (a medium tan), some of which have been verified.

Bubbletop

Bubbletop (pronounced buhb-uhl-top)

(1) In aircraft design, a design of pilot’s canopy (originally military slang for what designers dubbed the “bubble canopy”, a Perspex molding which afforded exceptional outward visibility).

(2) An automobile using a transparent structure over the passenger compartment, replacing the usual combination of roof & windows.

(3) A descriptor of certain automobiles (as "Bubble Top") of the early 1960s, based on the shape rather than the method of construction, conventional metal and glass used.

1940s: The construct was bubble +‎ top.  Bubble dates from the late fourteenth century and was from the Middle English noun bobel which may have been from the Middle Dutch bubbel & bobbel and/or the Low German bubbel (bubble) and Middle Low German verb bubbele, all thought to be of echoic origin.  The related forms include the Swedish bubbla (bubble), the Danish boble (bubble) and the Dutch bobble.  Top pre-dates 1000 and was from the Middle English top, toppe & tope (top, highest part; summit; crest; tassel, tuft; (spinning) top, ball; a tuft or ball at the highest point of anything), and the Old English top & toppa (top, summit, tuft of hair), from the Proto-West Germanic topp, from the Proto-Germanic tuppaz (braid, pigtail, end), of unknown origin.  It was cognate with the Old Norse toppr (top), the Scots tap (top), the North Frisian top, tap & tup (top), the Saterland Frisian Top (top), the West Frisian top (top), the Dutch top (top, summit, peak), the Low German Topp (top), the German Zopf (braid, pigtail, plait, top), the Swedish topp (top, peak, summit, tip) and the Icelandic toppur (top).  Alternative forms are common; bubble-top in automotive & aeronautical engineering and bubble top in fashion.  Bubbletop is a noun and bubbletopped is an adjective; the noun plural is bubbletops.

Evolution of the Mustang's bubbletop: P-51C (top), P-51 III (centre) and P-51D (bottom).

“Bubbletop” began as World War II (1939-1945) era military slang for officially was described as the “bubble canopy”, the transparent structure sitting atop the cockpit of fighter aircraft, the advantages being (1) superior visibility (the purest interpretation of the design affording an unobstructed, 360° field-of-view, (2) improved aerodynamics, (3) easier cockpit ingress & egress (of some significance to pilots force to parachute and (4), weight reduction (in some cases).  Bubbletops had been seen on drawing boards in the early days of aviation and some were built during World War I (1914-1918) but it was the advent of Perspex and the development of industrial techniques suitable for the creation of large, variably-curved moldings which made mass-production practical.  The best known early implementations were those added to existing air-frames including the Supermarine Spitfire, Republic P-47 Thunderbolt and North American P-51 Mustang.  By 1943, the concept had become the default choice for fighter aircraft and the technology was applied also to similar apparatuses used elsewhere on the fuselage where they were styled usually as “blisters”.  In the post war years it extended to other types, most dramatically in the Bell 47 helicopter where the cabin was almost spherical, some 70% of the structure clear Perspex.

The enormous and rapid advances in wartime aeronautics profoundly influenced designers in many fields and nowhere was that more obvious than in the cars which began to appear in the US during the 1950s.  Elements drawn variously from aeronautics and ballistics did appear in the first generation of genuinely new post-war models (most of what was offered between 1945-1948 being barely revised versions of the 1942 lines) but it was in the next decade the designers were able to embrace the jet-age (a phrase which before it referred to the mass-market jet-airline travel made possible by the Boeing 707 (which entered commercial service in 1958) was an allusion to military aircraft, machines which during the Cold War were a frequent sight in popular culture).  On motif the designers couldn’t resist was the bubble canopy, something which never caught on in mass-production although Perspex roofed cars were briefly offered before word of their unsuitability for use in direct sunlight became legion.

GM Firebird XP-21 (Firebird I, 1953).

Not content with borrowing the odd element from aircraft, the General Motors (GM) team decided the best way to test which concepts were adaptable from sky to road was to “put wheels on a jet aircraft” and although they didn’t do that literally, by 1953 when Firebird XP-21 was first displayed, it certainly looked as though it was exactly that.  Its other novelty was it was powered by a gas turbine engine, the first time a major manufacturer in the US had built such a thing although a number of inventors had produced their own one-offs.  When the XP-21 (re-named Firebird I for the show circuit) made its debut, some in the press referred to it as a “prototype” but GM never envisaged it as the basis for a production car, being impractical for any purpose other than component-testing; it should thus be thought of as a “test-bed”.  The bubble canopy looked as if it could have come from a US Air Force (UFAF) fighter jet and would have contributed to the aerodynamically efficiency, the 370 hp (280 kW), fibreglass-bodied Firebird I said to be capable of achieving 200 mph (320 km/h) although it’s believed this number came from slide-rule calculations and was never tested.  Despite that, in its day the Firebird II made quite a splash and a depiction of it sits atop the trophy (named after the car’s designer, Harley Earl (1893–1969), the long time head of GM’s styling studio) presented each year to the winner of NASCAR’s (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) premiere event, the Daytona 500.

GM Firebird II (1956).

Compared with its predecessor, the Firebird II (1956), rendered this time in titanium was almost restrained, the Perspex canopy a multi-part structure over a passenger compartment designed to seat “a family of four”.  The family might have chosen to drive mostly in darkness because the heat build-up under the midday sun would have tested the “individually-controlled air conditioning”, a system upon which comfort depended because the Perspex sections were fixed; there were no opening “windows”.  Still, even if hot, the family would have got places fast because the same 200 mph capability was claimed.

GM Firebird III (1958).

The Firebird III was displayed at the 1958 Motorama and although GM never built any car quite like it, within a season, elements of it did begin to appear on regular production models in showrooms (notably the rear skegs which Cadillac used for a couple of years) and some of its features are today standard equipment in even quite modest vehicles.  The striking “double bubbletop” never made the assembly lines although some race cars have at least partially implemented the concept.  What proved more of a harbinger was the specification, the Firebird III fitted with anti-lock brakes, cruise control, air conditioning, an automated “accident avoidance system” and instead of a steering wheel, the driver controlled the thing with a joystick, installed in a centrally-mounted “Unicontrol & Instrument Panel”.  All these were analogue-era electro-mechanical devices too bulky, fragile or expensive for mass production, wider adoption in the decades to come made possible by integrated circuits (IC) and micro-processors.

1959 Cadillac Cyclone (XP-74).

Borrowing from the Firebird II, Cadillac also used a bubble top for the Cyclone (XP-74) concept car which in 1959 toured the show circuit.  Although it was powered by the corporation’s standard 390 cubic inch (6.5 litre) V8, there was some adventurous engineering including a rear-mounted automatic transaxle and independent rear suspension (using swing axles, something not as bad as it sounds given the grip of tyres at the time) but few dwelt long on such things, their attention grabbed by features such as the bubble top (this time silver coated for UV (ultra violet) protection) which opened automatically in conjunction with the electrically operated sliding doors.  The Perspex bubble canopies from fighter aircraft never caught on for road or race cars but so aerodynamically efficient was the shape it found several niches.

1953 Ferrari F166MM Spider by Vignale (left) and 1969 MGCGT (centre) and the MGC's replica hood in  fibreglass (right).

Bubbles often appeared atop the hood (bonnet) to provide clearance for components inconveniently tall (typically induction systems).  Most were centrally located (there was the occasional symmetrical pair) but the when BMH (British Motor Holdings, the old  BMC (British Motor Corporation) shoehorned their big, heavy straight-six into the MGB (1963-1980), it wouldn’t fit under the bonnet, the problem not the cylinder head but the tall radiator so the usual solution of a “bonnet bulge” was used.  However, for that to clear the forward carburetor, the bulge would have been absurdly high so a small bubble (usually, ones this size are referred to as "blisters") was added.  It probably annoyed some there wasn’t a matching (fake) one on the other side but it’s part of the MGC’s charm, a quality which for years most found elusive although it’s now more appreciated.  For MGC owners wish to shed some weight or for MGB owners who like the look, the “bonnet with bubble” is now available in fibreglass.

The winning Ford GT40 Mark IV (J-Car) with bubble to the right, Le Mans 1967 (left) and the after-market (for replicas) “Gurney Bubble” (right).

US racing driver Dan Gurney (1931–2018) stood 6' 4" (1.9 m) tall which could be accommodated in most sports cars and certainly on Formula One but when he came to drive the Ford GT40 Mark IV it was found he simply didn’t fit when wearing his crash helmet.  The original GT40 (1964) gained its name from the height being 40 inches (1016 mm) but Mark IV (the “J-Car”, 1966) was lower still at 39.4 inches (1,000 mm).  Gurney was the tallest ever to drive the GT40 and the solution sounds brutish but fix was effected elegantly, a “bubble added to the roof to clear the helmet.  Gurney and AJ Foyt (b 1935) drove the GT40 to victory in the 1967 Le Mans 24-hour endurance classic and the protrusion clearly didn’t compromise straight-line speed, the pair clocked at 213 mph (343 km’h), on the famous 3.6-mile Mulsanne Straight (which was a uninterrupted 3.6 miles (5.8 km) until the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (the FIA; the International Automobile Federation and world sport’s dopiest regulatory body) imposed two “chicanes”),  Known ever since as the “Gurney Bubble”, such is the appeal that they’re now available for any GT40 replica: Like the AC Shelby Cobra, the GT40 “reproduction” industry is active and there are many times more of these than there are survivors of 105 originals.

Ferrari 250 GT “Tour de France” LWB Berlinettas by Zagato: The “double bubble” roof (left), the Hofmeister kink (centre) and the famous “Z” kink, (right).

The Italian coachbuilding house Zagato was founded in 1919 by Ugo Zagato (1890-1968) and since the early post-war years, their designs have sometimes been polarizing (the phrase “acquired taste” sometimes seen), their angularity often contrasted with the lines of other, notably Pinninfarina and Bertone but unlike many which have over the years folded, Zagato remains active still.  One Zagato design never criticized was his run in 1956 of five Ferrari 250 GT “Tour de France” LWB Berlinettas, memorable also for introducing the signature “Zagato double-bubble roof.  The roof was practical in that it better accommodated taller occupants but it really was a visual trick and a variation on the trick Mercedes-Benz used on the “Pagoda” (W113; 230, 250 & 280 SL; 1963-1971) which they explained by saying “We didn’t lower the roof, we rained the windows”.  The other famous feature (which appeared on only one) was the fetching “Z” shape on the rear pillar, replacing the “Hofmeister kink” used on some others.

1962 Chevrolet Impala “bubble top” Sport Coupe (left), 1963 Ford Consul Capri (centre) and 1972 BMW 3.0CS (E9, right).

The 1959 Chevrolet quickly came to be nicknamed “bubble top” and the style spread, both within GM and beyond.  The “bubble top” reference was to the canopy on aircraft like the P-51D Mustang but was an allusion to the shape, not the materials used; on cars things were done in traditional glass and metal.  Across the Atlantic, Ford in the UK applied the idea to their Consul Capri (1961-1964), a two-door hardtop which the company wanted to be thought of as a “co-respondent's” car (ie the sort of rakish design which would appeal to the sort of chap who slept with other men’s wives, later to be named as “co-respondent” in divorce proceedings).  The Capri was a marketplace failure and the styling was at the time much criticized but it’s now valued as a period piece.  Chevrolet abandoned the look on the full-size cars after 1963 but it was revived for the second series Corvair (1965-1969).  A fine implementation was achieved in the roofline of the BMW E9 (1968-1975) which remains the company’s finest hour.

The bubble shirt and bubble tops.

The bubble skirt (worn by Lindsay Lohan (centre)) is one of those garments which seems never to quite die, although there are many who wish it would.  Once (or for an unfortunate generation, twice) every fashion cycle (typically 10-12 years), the industry does one of its "pushes" and bubble skirts show up in the high street, encouraged sometimes by the odd catwalk appearance; it will happen again.  While the dreaded bubble skirt is easily identifiable, the “bubble top” is less defined but there seem to be two variations: (1) a top with a “bubble skirt-like” appendage gathering unhappily just above the hips (left) and (2) a kind of “boob tube” which, instead of being tightly fitted is topped with an additional layer of material, loosely gathered.  The advantages of the latter (which may be thought of as a “boob bubble”) are it can (1) without any additional devices create the illusion of a fuller bust and (2) allow a strapless bra to be worn, something visually difficult with most boob tubes because the underwear’s outline is obvious under the tight material.

Guggenhat

Guggenhat (pronounced goo-gin-hat)

1960: The construct was Guggen(heim) + hat.  Solomon Guggenheim (1861–1949) was a US businessman and art collector who in 1939 established the Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, best known for the Guggenheim Museum in Manhattan, NYC, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and opened in 1960.  Hat (a shaped covering for the head, usually with a crown and brim, especially for wear outdoors) was pre-900, from the Middle English hat, from the Old English hætt (head-covering, hat) (variously glossing the Latin pileus, galerus, mitra & tiara), from the Proto-Germanic hattuz (hat, hood, cowl), from the primitive Indo-European kad- (to guard, cover, care for, protect).  It was cognate with the North Frisian hat (hat), the Danish hat (hat), the Swedish hatt (hat), the Icelandic hattur (hat), the Latin cassis (helmet), the Lithuanian kudas (bird's crest or tuft), the Avestan xaoda (hat), the Persian خود‎ (xud) (helmet), the Welsh cadw (to provide for, ensure) and the Old Norse hattr &  hǫttr (cap, cowl, hood).  The Proto-Germanic hattuz is of uncertain etymology although etymologists have suggested a link with the Lithuanian kuodas (tuft or crest of a bird) and Latin cassis (helmet), the latter thought perhaps more persuasive although most maintain the source of this was Etruscan.

Sally Victor's Airwave hat created for Mamie Eisenhower (1896–1979; first lady of the United States 1953-1961) to wear at her husband's (Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969) US president 1953-1961) inauguration.  The shape reflected the influence Ms Victor noted that wartime advances in aerodynamics and the increased understanding of fluid dynamics had had on many aspects of the built environment and industrial design.

Sally Victor (1905–1977) was a US milliner active between 1928-1967 who supplied both celebrities as well as the first ladies of both the Eisenhower (1953-1961) and Kennedy (1961-1963) White Houses and in a tactic that was used by the manufacturers of many products, while maintaining the exclusivity of her signature lines, she also sold mass-market ranges under the name Sally V.  Although her designs borrowed from the history of fashion, Sally Victor was interesting in that she was inspired not only by various traditions from the visual arts of many cultures but also industrial influences such as machinery, military vehicles and, most memorably, modernist architecture.  Unlike many designers serving the upper reaches of the market, even before such things became fashionable in the post-war world, she was never reticent in using synthetic materials in her hats, valuing the novel possibilities in shape and rigidity they afforded compared to the usual felts and silks of the time.

The Gugenhat and the Guggenheim, 1960.

Her most famous hat, known informally as the “gugenhat” was based on one of the landmarks of modernism, the Solomon R Guggenheim Museum (usually styled "the Guggenheim") on Manhattan's Fifth Avenue, designed by US architect Frank Lloyd Wright (1867–1959).  Solomon Robert Guggenheim (1861–1949) was an American businessman and art collector who in 1939 established the Solomon R Guggenheim Foundation.  Although his early interest in art had been in the works of the old masters, in the 1920s his attention switched to modern art, then a fashionable if not entirely respectable cult and it was in this field that he decided to specialize.  Initially, his collection was private with the occasional public exhibition but in 1939, he took the lease on a space in New York City and opened a public gallery, the Museum of Non-Objective Painting.  The size of the collection grew rapidly, in part because of the large numbers of modern works becoming suddenly available because of Adolf Hitler's (1889-1945, Führer (leader) of Nazi Germany 1933-1945) distaste for "modern art", an attitude the Nazi's imposed not only on the German state but also the territories in occupied Europe.  While the Nazis didn't want the works seen in any place under their control, they were pragmatic about them being sold for hard currency.  So large did Guggenheim's collection of the avant-garde become that in 1943, Frank Lloyd Wright was commissioned to design a dedicated structure which would become a permanent exhibition space, his remit including the stipulation that in addition to being a practical, function building, it should reflect also the nature of the contents.  Guggenheim died in 1949 and in 1952 the museum was renamed the Solomon R Guggenheim Museum, the new building opening in 1959.

Lindsay Lohan at Lady Gaga's (b 1986) Fame Eau de Parfum launch party, Guggenheim Museum, New York, 13 September 2012.

The Guggenheim Museum, Manhattan, NYC.

The building was not without its critics and it’s true that the architect did seem to be uncompromising in maintain the integrity of the interior design, even if that meant imposing inherent limitations of the size and shape of what could be displayed.  Despite that, as a building it has aged well and has for decades exerted an influence which is still not spent although few who have since done art galleries have seemed anxious to be seen to be following in the footsteps.  In the 1990s, the building was extended, most impressed with how sympathetically the new was interpolated into the existing structure although the usual suspects objected, maintaining that given its historical significance, it should have been maintained in its original form.

Hat (left), designed in silk by Cristóbal Balenciaga (1895-1872) and made for Eisa (Spain) in 1962.  It evokes the spirals used by French architect Emilio Terry (1890-1969) in his Spiral house (1930) (centre) and later picked up by Philip Johnson (1906-2005) for his Church of Thanks-Giving, Dallas, Texas (1977) (right), inspired by the Great Mosque in Samarra, Iraq which itself borrowed from the square, spiral Pillar of Gor in Persia.

Nor, in 1960, was the Guggenhat a novel concept, artists and others long having been playing with the idea of the motifs of architecture being applied to hats, clothing and shoes, among the milliners the Eifel Tower, once a popular model.  Among curators, the trend had been noted and in 1954, New York’s Museum of Modern Art commissioned Sidney Peterson to direct Architectural Millinery, a short film (seven minutes duration) comparing the tops of New York skyscrapers with the styles of hats and there was a reason it wasn’t a feature-length production: To design a hat which displays the recognizable influence of an architectural style or a particular building while being both wearable and aesthetically successful is difficult.  In that sense Ms Victor choose well because the New York Guggenheim was an example of a building which might well have been inspired by a hat and such structures are rare.  Other buildings, however admired for their other qualities don’t offer milliners quite so obvious a blueprint.

Guggenheim Museum Bilbao.

The Guggenheim Museum in Abando, Bilbao, in Spain’s Basque Country, was designed by Canadian-American architect Frank Gehry (b 1929) and opened in 1997 to almost universal acclaim from architects and it’s certainly eye-catching, even if one suspects comrade Stalin might have thought Gehry’s pencil drifted a little towards “formalism”.  Still, despite the odd back-handed compliment from a curmudgeon who found the lines “a fine example of modern art”, few in the last quarter-century seem to have revised their opinions although there have been criticisms of the internal dimensions which, unlike the Guggenheim in Manhattan will certainly accommodate large installations, some suggesting such art is prevalent enough without encouraging more.  Those who thought smaller pieces somehow suffered diminishment by being dwarfed by the enveloping space just don’t get the implications of art.

It could be done although there would be many who would say it shouldn't be done: The Guggenhat (Bilbao), a three-piece installation (digitally altered image).  Stranger stuff has been seen on catwalks but the Bilbao Guggenheim, as a whole, doesn’t lend itself to being rendered as a hat though in fairness to the architect, that’s not something likely to have piqued his interest.  The various interesting bits of the building might make several different hats but to get the effect, one would presumably need models walking carefully and closely in formation.

Even the Sydney Opera House (built between 1959-1973), perhaps more obviously geometrically promising (in millinery terms) has yet to inspire anything truly memorable although some kitsch (intended and not) shows up from time to time.

Zaha Hadid Architects' H-Line Hat for the Friends of the High Line, New York.

The motifs can however be separated from the whole.  Zaha Hadid Architects' H-Line Hat for the Friends of the High Line, New York was created in 2018 as part of a project to encourage architectural millinery based on the H-Line, an abandoned freight rail line which community action turned into a into a vibrant public park when the historic structure was under the threat of demolition.  Named (in a perhaps unimaginative but certainly simple piece of product association) the H-Line hat, the design was rendered in dégradé colors, the white melting into an electric blue around a brim the color of the sky and was inspired by an eleven storey residential building, the first project by Zaha Hadid Architects in New York and located near the High Line.  The hand-fixed steel façade of the building features a series of interlocking chevrons, steel bands and rounded corners, all evocative of Chelsea's industrial past and the decorative curves of the H-Line hat echoes these chevrons, weaving in open and closed forms around the wearer.