Vogue (pronounced vohg)
(1) Something in fashion at a particular time or in a
particular place.
(2) An expression of popular currency, acceptance, or
favor.
(3) A highly stylized modern dance that evolved out of
the Harlem ballroom scene in the 1960s, the name influenced by the fashion
magazine; one who practiced the dance was a voguer who was voguing.
(4) In Polari, a cigarette or to light a cigarette (often
in the expression “vogue me up”).
(5) The world's best known women's fashion magazine, the first issue in 1892 and now published by Condé Nast.
1565–1575: From the Middle English vogue (height of popularity or accepted fashion), from the Middle
French vogue (fashion, success (literally, “wave or course of success”)), from
the Old French vogue (a rowing), from
voguer (to row, sway, set sail), from
the Old Saxon wegan (to move) & wogōn (to sway, rock), a variant of wagōn (to float, fluctuate), from the Proto-Germanic
wagōną (to sway, fluctuate) and the Proto-Germanic
wēgaz (water in motion), wagōną (to sway, fluctuate), wēgaz (water in motion) & weganą (to move, carry, weigh), from the
primitive Indo-European weǵh- (to move, go, transport
(and an influence on the English way).
The forms were akin to the Old Saxon wegan (to move), the Old High German wegan (to move), the Old English wegan (to move, carry, weigh), the Old
Norse vaga (to sway, fluctuate), the Old
English wagian (to sway, totter), the
Proto-West Germanic wagōn, the German
Woge (wave) and the Swedish våg.
A parallel development the Germanic forms was the Spanish boga (rowing) and the Old Italian voga (a rowing), from vogare (to row, sail), of unknown origin
and the Italianate forms were probably some influence on the development of the
verb. Vogue & voguer are nouns (voguette
an informal noun), voguing is a noun and adjective, vogued is a verb and vogueing
& voguish are adjectives; the noun
plural is vogues.
All etymologists seem to concur the modern meaning is
from the notion of being "borne along on the waves of fashion" and
colloquially the generalized sense of "fashion, reputation" is probably
from the same Germanic source. The phrase
“in vogue” (having a prominent place in popular fashion) was recorded as long
ago as 1643. The fashion magazine (now
owned by Condé Nast) began publication in 1892 and young devotees of its
advice (they are legion) are voguettes. In linguistics, vogue
words are those words & phrases which become suddenly (although not always neologisms)
popular and fade from use or becoming clichéd or hackneyed forms (wardrobe malfunction;
awesome; problematic; at this point in time; acid test; in this space; parameters;
paradigm etc). Because it’s so
nuanced, vogue has no universal synonym but words which tend to the same meaning
(and can in some circumstances be synonymous) include latest, mod, now, rage,
chic, craze, currency, custom, fad, favor, mode, popularity, practice,
prevalence, style, stylishness, thing, trend & usage.
In Regional English, "vogue" could mean "fog or mist" and in Cornwall, the hamlet of Vogue in the parish of St Day gained
its name from the Medieval Cornish vogue (a word for a medieval smelting furnace (ie "blowing house", the places generating much smoke)); civilization contributing to the increase in atmospheric concentrations of greenhouse gasses is nothing new. Clearly better acquainted with trademark law than
geography, in early 2022 counsel for Condé Nast sent a C&D (cease and desist letter) to the inn-keeper of the village’s The Star Inn at Vogue pub,
demanding the place change its name to avoid any public perception of a
connection between the two businesses.
The owners of the venerable pub declined the request (cheekily suggesting they might send their own C&D to Vogue demanding the publication find a new name on the basis of usurpation (an old tort heard before the Court of Chivalry). Condé Nast subsequently apologized,
citing insufficient investigation by their staff, a framed copy of their letter hung on the pub's wall. Honor apparently satisfied on both sides, the two Vogues resumed the peaceful co-existence which had prevailed since 1892.
1981 Range Rover In Vogue from the first run with the standard stylized steel wheels (left) and a later 1981 In Vogue with the three-spoke aluminum units.
Much of the 1970s was spent in what to many felt like a
recession, even if there were only some periods in some places during which the technical
definition was fulfilled and the novel phenomenon of stagflation did disguise some
of the effects. Less affected than most (of course) were the rich who had discovered a new status-symbol, the Range Rover
which, introduced in 1970 had legitimized (though there were earlier ventures) the idea of the "luxury" four-wheel-drive
(4WD) segment although the interior of the original was very basic (the floor-coverings rubber mats rather than carpets on the assumption that, as with the even more utilitarian Land Rovers, there would be a need to "hose out" the mud accumulated from a day's HSF (huntin', shootin' & fishin')), the car’s
reputation built more on it's then unique blend of competence on, and off-road. So good was the Range Rover in both roles that owners, used to being cosseted in leather and walnut, wanted
something closer to that to which they were accustomed and dealers received
enquiries about an up-market version.
That had been Rover’s original intention. The plan had been to release a basic version
powered by four cylinder engines and a luxury edition with a V8 but by 1970
time and development funds had run out so the car was released with the V8
power-train and the more spartan interior although it was quickly apparent few owners took advantage of being able to hose out the mud. Indeed, so skewed was the buyer profile to urban profiles it's likely the only time many ventured off the pavement was to find a good spot in the car parks of polo fields. In something which must now seem remarkable, although already perceived as a "prestige" vehicle, for the first decade-odd, the Range Rover was not available with either air-conditioning or an automatic transmission. However, if
the rich were riding out the decade well, British Leyland (which owned Rover) was
not and it lacked the capital to devote to the project. Others took advantage of what proved a profitable
niche and those with the money (or spending OPM (other people's money) could choose from a variety of limited-production and
bespoke offerings including LWB (long-wheelbase) models, four-door conversions, six
wheelers and even open-topped versions from a variety of coach-builders such as
Wood & Pickett and low-volume manufacturers like Switzerland’s Monteverdi
which anticipated the factory by a number of years with their four-door
coachwork.
British Leyland was soon subject to one of the
many re-organizations which would seek (without success) to make it a healthy
corporation and one consequence was increased autonomy for the division making
Range Rovers. No longer compelled to
subsidize less profitable arms of the business, attention was turned to the
matter of a luxury model, demand for which clearly existed. To test market reaction, in late 1980, the
factory collaborated with Wood & Pickett to design a specially-equipped two-door
model as a proof-of-concept exercise to gauge market reaction. The prototype (HAC 414W) was lent to Vogue
magazine, a crafty choice given the demographic profile of the readership and
the by then well-known extent of women’s own purchasing power and influence on
that of their husbands. Vogue took the
prototype to Biarritz to be the photographic backdrop for the images taken for the
magazine’s co-promotion of the 1981 Lancôme and Jaeger fashion collections,
published in an eight-page advertising spread entitled Rendez-vous à Biarritz in the March 1981 edition. The response was remarkable and while Lancôme
and Jaeger’s launch attracted polite attention, Vogue’s mailbox (which then received letters in
envelopes with postage stamps) was overwhelmingly filled with enquiries about
the blinged-up Range-Rover (although "bling" was a linguistic generation away from use).
Rover had expected demand to be strong and the reaction to the Vogue spread justified their decision to prepare for a production run even before publication and the Range Rover In Vogue went on sale early in 1981, the limited-edition run all closely replicating the photo-shoot car except for the special aluminum wheels which were not yet in volume production. Amusingly, the triple-spoke wheels (similar to the design Ford had used on the 1979 (Fox) Mustang) had been a problem in Biarritz, the factory supplying the wrong lug nuts which had a tendency to fall off, meaning the staff travelling with the car had to check prior to each shoot to ensure five were present on each wheel which would appear in the picture. Not until later in the year would the wheels be ready so the In Vogue’s went to market with the standard stylized steel units, meaning the brochures had to be pulped and reprinted with new photographs and some small print: "Alloy wheels, as featured on the vehicle used by Vogue magazine will be available at extra cost through Unipart dealers later in 1981". British Leyland's record-keeping was at the time as chaotic as much of its administration so it remains unclear how many were built. The factory said the run would be 1,000, all in right hand drive (RHD) but many left hand drive (LHD) examples exist and it’s thought demand from the continent was such another small batch was built although this has never been confirmed. The In Vogue’s exclusive features were:
Light blue metallic paint (the model-exclusive Vogue Blue) with wide body stripes in two shades of grey (not black as on the prototype).
High compression (9.35:1) version of the V8 (to provide more torque).
Higher high-gear ratio (0.996:1) in the transfer box (to reduce engine speed and thus noise in highway driving).
Air conditioning
Varnished walnut door cappings.
Armrest between the front seats.
Map pockets on the back of the front seats (the rationale for not including the folding picnic tables so beloved by English coach-builders being the design of the Range Rover's rear tailgate had made it the "de-facto picnic table".
Fully carpeted luggage compartment.
Carpeted spare wheel cover and tool-kit curtain.
Picnic hamper.
Stainless steel tailgate cap.
Black wheel hub caps.
Condé Nast would later describe the In Vogue’s custom picnic hamper as the car’s "pièce de résistance". which might have amused Rover's engineers who would have put some effort into stuff they'd have thought "substantive". Now usually written in English as "piece de resistance" (masterpiece; the most memorable accomplishment of one’s career or lifetime; one's magnum opus (great work)), the French phrase pièce de résistance (literally the "piece which has staying power") seems first to have appeared in English in Richard Cumberland (1732–1811) novel Arundel (1789). One can see the writer's point. Although the walnut, additional torque and certainly the air conditioning would have been selling points, like nothing else, the picnic hamper would have delighted the target market.
Demand for the In Vogue far exceeded supply and additional production runs quickly were scheduled. In response to customer demand, the most frequently made request was acceded to, the second series available with Chrysler's robust TorqueFlite automatic transmission, introduced at the same time as the debut of a four-door version, another popular enquiry while the three-spoke wheels became standard equipment and equipment levels continued to rise, rear-head restraints fitted along with a much enhanced sound-system. In what was perhaps a nod to the wisdom of the magazine's editors, although a cooler replaced the hamper for the second run, for the third, buyers received both cooler and hamper. The third series, launched in conjunction with the Daks autumn fashion collection at Simpson's of Piccadilly, included a digital radio, the convenience of central locking and the almost unnoticed addition of front mud flaps so clearly there was an understanding that despite the Range Rover's well deserved reputation as a "Chelsea taxi", the things did sometimes see the mud and ladies didn't like the stuff getting on their dresses as they alighted. In 1984, as "Vogue", it became the regular production top-of-the-range model and for many years served in this role although, for licencing reasons, when sole in the US it was called the "Country"). For both companies, the In Vogue and subsequent Vogues turned out to be the perfect symbiosis.
Art and Engineering
From the start, Vogue (the magazine) was of course about frocks, shoes and such but its influence extended over the years to fields as diverse as interior decorating and industrial design. The work of Georges Lepape (1887-1971) has long been strangely neglected in the history of art deco but he was a fine practitioner whose reputation probably suffered because his compositions habitually were regarded as derivative or imitative which seems unfair given there are many who are more highly regarded despite being hardly original. His cover art for Vogue’s edition of 1 January 1925 juxtaposed one of French artist Sonia Delaunay’s (1885–1979) "simultaneous" pattern dresses and a Voisin roadster decorated with an art deco motif.
1927 Voisin C14 Lumineuse.
One collector in 2015 was so taken with Pepape’s image that when refurbishing his 1927 Voisin C14 Lumineuse (literally “light”, an allusion to the Voisin’s greenhouse-inspired design which allowed natural light to fill the interior), he commissioned Dutch artist Bernadette Ramaekers to hand-paint a geometric triangular pattern in sympathy with that on the Vogue cover in 1925. Ms Ramaekers took six months to complete the project and when sold at auction in London in 2022, it realized Stg£202,500. There are few designers as deserving of such a tribute as French aviation pioneer Gabriel Voisin (1880–1973) who made military aircraft during the First World War (1914-1918) and, under the name Avions Voisin, produced a remarkable range of automobiles between 1919-1939, encapsulating thus the whole inter-war period and much of the art deco era. Because his designs were visually so captivating, much attention has always been devoted to his lines, curves and shapes but the underlying engineering was also interesting although some of his signature touches, like the (briefly in vogue) sleeve valve engine, proved a mirage.
Voisin's extraordinary visions: 1934 C27 Aérosport (left), 1934-1935 Voisin C25 Aérodynes (centre) & 1931 C20 Mylord Demi Berline (right).
Also a cul-de-sac was his straight-12 engine. Slow-running straight-12 (there is even a straight-14 which displaces 25,340 litres (1,546,000 cubic inches) and produces 107,290 hp (80,080 kW)) engines are known at sea where they’re used in (very) big ships but on the road (apart from some less than successful military vehicles), only Voisin and Packard ever attempted them, the former making two, the latter, one. Voisin’s concept was simple enough; it was two straight-6s joined together, end-on-end, the same idea many had used to make things like V12s (2 x V6s) straight-8s (2 x straight-4s) H16s (two flat-8s, one atop another) and even V24s (2 x V12s) but the sheer length of a straight-12 in a car presented unique problems in packaging and the management of the torsional vibrations induced by the elongated crankshaft. Straight-12s were built for use in aircraft (Bristol's Type 25 Braemar II in 1919 using four of them!) where the attraction was the aerodynamic advantage conferred by the small frontal area but as engine speeds increased in the 1920s, so did the extent of the problem of crankshaft flex and the concept was never revived.
1934 Voisin C15 Saloit Roadster (left) and the one-off Packard straight-12, scrapped when the decision was taken not to proceed to production (right).
The length of the straight-12 meant an extraordinary amount of the vehicle’s length had to be devoted to housing just the engine and that resulted in a high number for what designers call the dash-to-axle ratio. That was one of the many reasons the straight-12 never came into vogue and indeed was one of the factors which doomed the straight-8, a configuration which at least had some redeeming features. Voisin must however have liked the appearance of the long hood (bonnet) because the striking C15 Saloit Roadster (which could have accommodated a straight-12) was powered by a straight-4, a sleeve valve Knight of 2500 cm³ (153 cubic inch). The performance doubtlessly didn’t live up to the looks but so sensuous were those looks that many would forgive the lethargy. The concept of a short engine in a lengthy compartment was revived by Detroit in the 1960s & 1970s, many of the truly gargantuan full-sized sedans and coupes built with elongated front & rear structures. At the back, the cavernous trunks (boots) often could swallow four sets of gold clubs which would have had some appeal to the target market but much of the space under the hood was unused. While large enough to accommodate a V16, the US industry hadn't made those since the last of the Cadillac V16s left the line in 1940 after a ten-year run. While one of the reasons the V8 had supplanted the straight-8 was its relatively compact length, that virtue wasn't needed by the late 1950s when, in all directions, the sheet-metal grew well beyond what was required by the mechanical components, the additional size just for visual impact to enhance the perception of prestige and luxury in an era when bigger was better. Dramatic though the look could be (witness the 1969 Pontiac Grand Prix), the packaging efficiency was shockingly wasteful.
The Dart which never was
Using one of his signature outdoor settings, Norman Parkinson (1913-1990) photographed model Suzanne Kinnear (b 1935) adorning a Daimler SP250, wearing a Kashmoor coat and Otto Lucas beret with jewels by Cartier.
The image appeared on the cover (left) of Vogue's UK edition in November 1959, the original's (right) color being "enhanced" in the Vogue pre-production editing tradition (women thinner, cars shinier). The "wide" whitewall tyres were a thing at the time, even on sports cars and were a popular option on US market Jaguar E-Types (there (unofficially) called XK-E or XKE) in the early 1960s. The car on the Vogue cover was XHP 438, built on prototype chassis 100002 at Compton Verney in 1959; it's the oldest surviving SP250, the other two prototypes (chassis 100000 & 100001 from 1958) dismantled when testing was completed. XHP 438 was the factory's press demonstrator and was used in road tests by Motor and Autocar magazines before being re-furbished (motoring journalists subjecting the press fleet to a brief but hard life) and sold. Uniquely, when XPH 438 was first registered in England, it was as a "Daimler Dart".
There was however an issue with the "Dart" name. The SP250 was first shown to the public at the 1959 New York Motor Show and there the problems began. Aware the little sports car was quite a departure from the luxurious but rather staid line-up Daimler had for years offered, the company had chosen the pleasingly alliterative “Dart” as its name, hoping it would convey the sense of something agile and fast. Unfortunately, Chrysler’s lawyers were faster still, objecting that they had already registered Dart as the name for a full-sized Dodge so Daimler needed a new name and quickly; the big Dodge would never be confused with the little Daimler but the lawyers insisted. Imagination apparently exhausted, Daimler’s management reverted to the engineering project name and thus the car became the SP250 which was innocuous enough even for Chrysler's attorneys and it could have been worse. Dodge had submitted their Dart proposal to Chrysler for approval and while the car found favor, the name did not and the marketing department was told to conduct research and come up with something the public would like. From this the marketing types gleaned that “Dodge Zipp” would be popular and to be fair, dart and zip(p) do imply much the same thing but ultimately the original was preferred and Darts remained in Dodge’s lineup until 1976, for most of that time one of the corporation's best-selling and most profitable lines. Cynically, the name was between 2012-2016 revived for an unsuccessful and unlamented FWD (front-wheel-drive) compact sedan.