Vogue

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”).

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 the young devotees of its advice 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 et al).  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.

Lindsay Lohan cover, Vogue (Spanish edition), August 2009.

In Cornwall, the hamlet of Vogue in the parish of St Day gained its name from the Medieval Cornish vogue word for a medieval smelting furnace (blowing house); producing much smoke, vogue was also a word used to mean “fog or mist”.  Clearly better acquainted with law than geography, in early 2022 counsel for Condé Nast sent a 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 pub’s owners declined the request and Condé Nast subsequently apologized, citing insufficient investigation by their staff.

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 essentially created the luxury four-wheel-drive (4WD) segment although the interior of the original was very basic, the car’s reputation based on the excellence of the engineering.  So good was the Range Rover, both on and off-road 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.

Lindsay Lohan at the opening of the Ninety years of Vogue covers exhibition, Crillon Hotel, Paris, 2009.

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 an interior so utilitarian it could be hosed out, something which was touted as a competitive advantage although it’s doubtful it was a feature many owners chose to exploit.  However, if the rich were riding out the decade well, British Leyland (which owned Rover) was not and it lacked the resources to devote to the project.  Others took advantage of what proved a profitable niche and the rich could choose from a variety of limited-production and bespoke offerings including 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.

Rendez-vous à Biarritz, Vogue magazine, March 1981.

However, 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 forced 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 was letters in envelopes with postage stamps) was overwhelmingly filled with enquiries about the blinged-up Range-Rover.

Vogue's Range Rover In Vogue (HAC 414W) in Biarritz, 1981, all nuts on board or otherwise attached.

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 replicas of the photo shoot car except for the special aluminum wheels.  The three-spoke wheels (based on the design Ford had used on the 1979 (Fox) Mustang) had actually proved 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.  Quite how many were made remains unclear.  The factory said 1000 would be built, all in right hand drive (RHD) but many left hand drive (LHD) examples seem to exist and it’s thought demand from the continent was such that another batch was built although this has never been confirmed.  The In Vogue’s exclusive features were:

Light blue metallic (Vogue Blue) paint with broad twin coach-lines in two-tone grey

High-compression (9.35:1) V8 engine

Transfer box with taller (0.996:1) high ratio

Air conditioning

Polished-wood door cappings

Stowage box between front seats

Map pockets on back of front seats

Fully carpeted load area

Carpeted spare wheel cover and tool kit curtain

Custom picnic hamper mounted in rear load-space

Stainless steel tailgate capping

Black centre caps for the wheels

Condé Nast would later describe the In Vogue’s custom picnic hamper as the car’s piece de resistance.  Demand for the In Vogue far exceeded supply and production runs of various volumes followed before the Vogue in 1984 became the regular production top-of-the-range model for many years (although when sold in the US it was called the Country).  For both companies, the In Vogue (and the subsequent Vogues) turned out to be the perfect symbiosis.

Vogue, January 1925, cover art by Georges Lepape.

From the start, Vogue 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 have always been 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.

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 toook six months to complete the project and the car is now being offered at auction.

Voisin's extraordinary visions:  1934 C27 Aérosport (left), 1934-1935 Voisin C25 Aérodynes (centre) & 1931 C20 Mylord Demi Berline (right).

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.  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 actually not uncommon at sea where they’re used in big container ships but on the road (apart from some slow-running engines in 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) 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.

1934 Voisin C15 Saloit Roadster.

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.

Using one of his trademark 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 was published on the cover of Vogue's UK edition in November 1959.

The Daimler 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.  The name was revived between 2012-2016 for an unsuccessful and unlamented compact sedan.

Argyle

Argyle (pronounced ahr-gahyl)

(1) A diamond-shaped pattern of two or more colors, used in knitted socks, sweaters and a design motif for other purposes.

(2) Specifically, a sock made with this pattern (often in the plural); now increasingly used also of sweaters.

1790s: A adapted variant of the surname Argyll, so called because the original design closely emulated the clan tartan associated with the name.  Argyle does exist as a surname & given name where it is capitalized but this is now sometimes also the practice when referring (as a noun) to garments (though never as a adjective).  The surname Argyle was from the Middle English erguil & erguile, a variant of the Middle English orguil & orguile, from the Old French orguel (pride arrogance), thus the variation of Argill and Argile with Orgill.  There is an alternative suggestion of a link to Arkell (with a voicing of “k” to “g”) but it’s thought either speculative or an unjustified generalization from what may have been a genealogical cul-de-sac.  Nor is there evidence has to support the notion of it being a habitational name from Argyll, the county of south-west Scotland although folk etymology may have influenced the modern spelling of the surname, something not uncommon, even as late as the nineteenth century.  Argyle is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is argyles.

Lindsay Lohan in an argyle-patterned Harlequin Sequin Tunic (a long vest or mini-dress depending on pairings or circumstances) by Topshop, the shoes are Lanvin platform peep-toe pumps in suede: New Year's Party at the Mansion nightclub, South Beach, Miami Beach Florida, 31 December 2008.

As a given name, Argyle’s origins are Scottish, meaning “from the land of the Gauls”.  When used as a locality name outside the British Isles, Argyle was usually a borrowing from there although the Canadian municipality of Argyle was named after Governor-General of Canada, John Campbell (1845-1914), ninth Duke of Argyll.  Argyle socks were first so described in that form in 1935, the use as a general descriptor for other garments (mostly sweaters but also shirts, skirts etc) emerged in the post-war years.  It’d long been used with fabric sold in bolts and other products (blankets, table cloths, mufflers etc).  The argyle (diamond-shaped in two or more colors in fabric) pattern was influenced by the tartan which came to be associated with the Argyll branch of the Campbell clan of Argyll, Scotland.  The place name translates literally as "land of the Gaels", the first element from the Old Irish airer (country).  The surname Campbell was from the Scottish Gaelic Caimbeul, the construct being cam (crooked) + beul (mouth) and it’s often compared with Cameron, the construct being the Scottish Gaelic cam + sròn (nose).  Etymologists have concluded crooked in this context was a literal rather than a figurative reference.

Despite the perception of many (encouraged by the depictions in popular culture), tartan in the sense of specific color & pattern combinations attached to specific clans is something of recent origin.  Tartan (breacan (pɾʲɛxkən) in Scots Gaelic) is a patterned cloth consisting of criss-crossed, horizontal and vertical bands in multiple colours.  The word plaid is now often used interchangeably with tartan (particularly in North America and when not associated with anything Scottish (especially kilts)), but technically (and always in Scotland), a plaid is a large piece of tartan cloth, worn as a type of kilt or large shawl although it’s also used to describe a blanket.  During the disputes between England and Scotland, the wearing of tartan became a political expression and the Dress Act (1746) was part of the campaign to suppress the warrior clans north of the border; it banned tartan and other aspects of Gaelic culture. The law was repealed in 1782 and tartan was soon adopted as both the symbolic national dress of Scotland and in imagery more generally.

Argyll No.230.  Records from 1850 lists the pattern Argyll No.230 as Cawdor Campbell and it was in the pattern books of a Bannockburn weaver printed in 1819 and the earliest known reference to an (un-illustrated) “Argyll tartan” dates from 1798.  In documents from 1906 it was referred to as the “Argyll District tartan” and was said to have been adopted by other clans but this is disputed.

Although there’s now an industry devoted to the tartans of the clans, the specific association of patterns with clans and families began only in the mid-nineteenth century.  This history was both technological and economic deterministic.  Unlike some fabrics, tartans were produced by local weavers for local sale, using only the natural dyes available in that geographical area and patterns were just designs chosen by the buyer.  It was only with a broader availability of synthetic dyes that many patterns were created these began (somewhat artificially) to become associated with Scottish clans, families, or institutions wishing to emphasize their Scottish heritage.  The heritage was usually real but not often specific to a particular tartan, the mid-nineteenth century interest in the fabrics a kind of manufactured nostalgia.

Gretchen Wieners (Lacey Chabert (b 1982)) in Mean Girls (2004) liked the diamond look, wearing two different argyle sweaters and one skirt with the pattern.

One aspect of the fashions of Mean Girls which did attract comment was that the Plastics, despite having many self-imposed rules on matters sartorial, apparently placed no restrictions on repeating a outfit within a short time although the argyle sweater was the only piece of note worn by the protagonists which made a second appearance.

2022 Mercedes-Maybach 600 Pullman (left), after-market seat covers (centre) and 2005 Bentley Arnage T Mulliner (right).

Early in the twenty-first century, high-end car manufacturers embraced quilted leather with great enthusiasm and the trend, although criticized by some, shows little sign of fading.  Some have, with variable results, embraced two-tone color schemes but not in the traditional argyle style although third-party manufacturers of seat-covers have offered a few.  Perhaps fortunately, this seems not to have inspired the majors.

1955 Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing (W198) trimmed in blue-grey plaid.

Buyers of the Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing (W198 1954-1957) had the choice of seats covered in leather or plaid cloth.  In the years since, many Gullwings originally fitted with plaid upholstery were re-trimmed in leather during refurbishment or restoration, partly because the leather was thought to have more of a allure but also because for decades fabrics exactly matching what was available in the 1950s had become unobtainable ("unobtainium" thus the preferred industry term).  However, in 2018, in what was said to be a response to demand, Daimler announced bolts replicating exactly the original three designs (blue-gray, red-green and green-beige color) would again be available as a factory part-number.  Manufactured to the 1955 specification using an odor-neutral wool yarn woven into a four-ply, double weave twill, it’s claimed to be a “very robust material”.  In the era, the blue-gray fabric was the most popular, fitted to 80% of 300SLs not trimmed in leather while the red-green and green-beige combinations were requested respectively only by 14 & 6% of buyers.  The price (US$229 per yard) is indicative of the product’s niche market but for those restoring a 300 SL to its original appearance, it's a bargain.

The part-numbers:  Blue-Grey: A 000 983 44 86 / 5000, Red-Green: A 000 983 44 86 / 3000 & Green-Beige: A 000 983 44 86 / 6000.

Vogue, January 1925, cover art by Georges Lepape.

Triangles (and the diamond shapes they could combine to create) were one of the notable motifs of the art deco era.  From the start, Vogue 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 have always been 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.

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 toook six months to complete the project and in 2022 the car sold at auction for £202,500 (US$230,000).  Produced during the whole inter-war period (1919-1939), the Voisin cars were among the most strikingly memorable of the era although for a variety of reasons, commercial viability was often marginal.  The demise was unfortunate because a manufacturer which once contemplated production of a straight-twelve engine deserved to survive.

Hollywood

Hollywood (pronounced hol-ee-wood)

(1) A locality name shared by some two-dozen locations in the US, most associated the neighborhood in north-west Los Angeles, the historic centre of the US motion-picture industry.

(2) A locality name used by several places in England and Ireland.

(3) As a metonym, the US motion-picture industry (not necessarily restricted to LA) or the various cultural constructs associated with the business.

(4) Of or characteristic of a motion picture which tends to the type most associated with the mainstream US industry.

(5) In the beauty industry, a technique of waxing which removes all of the pubic hair, contrasted usually with the “Brazilian” which leaves a narrow strip.

Pre-1200 (in Ireland): In England and Ireland, Hollywood was used as a place name, based on the existence of established holly plantations in the region and it was adopted for dozens of settlements in North America although it’s not clear if the presence of holly plants was a prerequisite.  The use of Hollywood as a metonym for the US film industry (and by film nerds specifically the “studio system”) dates from 1926, some three years after the big sign on the hills was erected.

Lindsay Lohan photoshoot in the Hollywood hills for Vogue Espana, August 2009.

Standing 45 feet (13.7 m) high and 350 feet (106.7 m) in length, the sign originally spelled-out HOLLYWOODLAND and was intended as a temporary advertisement to promote a real estate development but became so identified with the place it was decided to allow it to remain.  As a temporary structure exposed to the elements, damage or deterioration was inevitable and in 1949, after the “H” had collapsed, restorative work was undertaken, the “LAND” letters demolished.  This work actually endured well but by the 1970s it was again quite dilapidated, a rebuild completed in 1979 and periodic maintenance since has ensured it remains in good condition.  There have been instances of vandalism so perimeter fencing of the site has over the years been increased but, as far as is known, only one soul has ever committed suicide by throwing themselves from one of the letters.  The first known instance of the name being used is in local government planning documents filed in 1887.  Quite why the name was chosen is obscure but there are a number of suggestions:

(1) Of the heteromeles arbutifolia.  It’s said the early residents in the region so admired the prolific holly-like bush (heteromeles arbutifolia, then commonly called the toyon) which grew in the Santa Monica Mountains they fondly re-named it the “California holly” and it was as this the plant lent its name to the neighborhood.  Easy to cultivate, tolerant of the Californian sun and demanding only occasional water, the toyon can grow as high as 18 feet (5½ m) high, the white summer flowers in the fall & winter yielding red berries.  The branches were a favorite for floral centerpieces and during the 1920s their harvesting as Christmas decorations became so popular the State of California passed a law (CA Penal Code § 384a) forbidding collection on public land or any land not owned by the person picking the plant unless with the the landowner’s written permission.

Heteromeles arbutifolia (the toyon or California holly)

(2) More in the spirit of the American dream is that the name was a marketing exercise.  In 1886, Harvey Wilcox (1832–1891) and his wife Daeida (1861-1914) purchased farmland and fruit groves near the Cahuenga Pass, his intention being to sub-divide the land, selling the plots for profit.  A year later, Mrs Wilcox met a passenger on a train who mentioned owning an Illinois estate named Hollywood and she was so enchanted by the name she convinced her husband to use if for his development, sitting on the land now known as Hollywood.

(3) A variation of this story is that Mrs Wilcox met a woman who told her of her home in Ohio named after a Dutch settlement called Hollywood and, without telling her husband, she bestowed the name on the recently purchased land.  Mr Wilcox apparently didn’t demur and had a surveyor map out a grid for the sub-division which was lodged with the county recorder's office on 1 February 1887, this the first official appearance of the name "Hollywood".

Lindsay Lohan photoshoot in the Hollywood hills for Vogue Espana, August 2009

(4) Year another twist to the tale maintains a friend of Mrs Wilcox hailed from a place called Holly Canyon and it was this which induced her to pick the name.  This included the area we now know as Hollywood which was purchased as part of a larger package by land developer Hobart Whitley (1847–1931) although there are sources which give some credit to Los Angeles businessman Ivar Weid, this linked also to the toyon tree.

(5) Some of the stories seem imaginative.  One involves divine intervention with Mrs Wilcox naming the area after attending a Mass of the Holy Wood of the Cross on the site though if that’s the case, Hollywood may subsequently have disappointed God.  There’s also a version with a phonetic flavor and it’s said to come from Hobart Whitley's diary: In 1886, while in the area, Whitley came across a man with a wood-hauling wagon and they paused to chat.   The carrier turned out to be Scottish who spoke of "hauling wood" which sounded to Whitley like "Hollywood" and Whitley was attracted by the combination of holly representing England and wood, Scotland; the tale reached Harvey Wilcox, and the name stuck.  An Irish version of this says the name was based on an immigrant's nostalgic memories of his home town: Hollywood in Wicklow, Ireland.  The immigrant was Mathew Guirke (1826-1909) who arrived in the US in 1850 and became a successful Los Angeles businessman, owning even a racetrack.  It’s said he named his new homestead Hollywood in honor of his hometown.

Henry Kissinger (b 1923; US National Security Advisor 1969-1975 & Secretary of State 1973-1977) meets Dolly Parton, 1985.

The noun Bollywood dates from 1977 and was based on the construct of Hollywood.  It references the Indian film industry, the construct being B(ombay) +‎ (H)ollywood, because the city of Bombay was where the bulk of the industry was located’ it’s sometimes truncated as B'wood.  Although the Raj-era name Bombay has formerly been gazetted as Mumbai and the name-change seems to be adhered to in the West, among Indians Bombay continues often to be used and Bollywood is so well entrenched it has assumed an independent life and nobody has suggested Mollywood.  Historically, Bollywood was a reference to (1) the Hindi-language film industry in Bombay and (2) a particular style of motion picture with a high song & dance content but of later it (3) refered to the whole industry in India.  Thus, as use has extended, the specific meaning has been diluted.  By extension, slang terms to describe motion pictures produced in India in languages other than Hindi include Kollywood (Tamil film industry located in Kodambakkam in Chennai, southern India.), Tollywood (Film Nagar, the Telugu film industry located in Hyderabad, Telangana) and Urduwood (anything using the Urdu language), the last often used in a derogatory sense by Hindu Indians after the fashion of substituting “I am going to the loo” with “I am going to Pakistan”.  Predictably, Nollywood (the construct being N(igeria) +‎ (H)ollywood) was coined when a industry of scale became established there.  Located in the Knoxville metropolitan area in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, Dollywood is a theme park co-owned by country & western singer Dolly Parton (b 1946) and Herschend Family Entertainment (HFE).

Lindsay Lohan, Vogue Espana cover, August 2009.

Other linguistic inventions include hollyweird (said often used by respectable folk in the flyover states to decry the decadent lifestyles and liberal opinions held by those who live close to America's corrupting coastlines (ie not restricted to a condemnation just of a part of LA) and hollywoke, a more recent coining which links the liberal views held by the hollyweird with political correctness and wokeness in general.  The "Hollywood bed" was a marketing invention of the 1950s which described a mattress on a box spring supported by low legs and fitted with an upholstered headboard, so-named because it resembled the beds which often appeared in Hollywood movies although, the term has also been used in the context of Harvey Weinstein's (b 1952) nefarious activities.  Hollywoodian and Hollywoodish are both adjectival forms, applied usually disapprovingly.  Beyond mainstream use, the ever-helpful Urban Dictionary lists a myriad of creations including hollywood hot-pocket, hollywood wife, hollywood hair, hollywood drone, hollywood douchebag, Hollywood zombie, hollywood vitamins, pull a hollywood, hollywood Nap, hollywood snow, hollywood republican & hollywood handler.  Some are self-explanatory (at least to those who enjoyed a misspent youth) while others Urban Dictionary can flesh-out.

Hollywoodland, 1923.

Hollywood is of course inherently associated with glitzy renditions of fiction though it seems a bit rough that on-line dictionaries include as synonyms: bogus, copied, false, fictitious, forged, fraudulent, phony, spurious, affected, assumed, bent, brummagem, crock (as in “…of shit”), ersatz, fake, feigned, framed, imitation, misleading, mock, pirate, plant, pretended, pseudo, put on, queer, sham, wrong, deceptive, delusive, delusory, fishy, not genuine, not kosher (that one a nice touch), pretentious, snide, soft-shell, suppositious and two-faced.  Presumably the Republican National Committee (RNC) didn’t write the list but it’s doubtful they'd much change it.  In the same spirit, the antonyms include actual, authentic, factual, genuine, honest, real, sincere, true, truthful & valid.

Ultracrepidarian

Ultracrepidarian (pronounced uhl-truh-krep-i-dair-ee-uhn)

Of or pertaining to a person who criticizes, judges, or gives advice outside their area of expertise

1819: An English adaptation of the historic words sūtor, ne ultra crepidam, uttered by the Greek artist Apelles and reported by the Pliny the Elder.  Translating literally as “let the shoemaker venture no further” and sometimes cited as ne supra crepidam sūtor judicare, the translation is something like “a cobbler should stick to shoes”.  From the Latin, ultra is beyond, sūtor is cobbler and crepidam is accusative singular of crepida (from the Ancient Greek κρηπίς (krēpís)) and means sandal or sole of a shoe.

Ultracrepidarianism describes the tendency among some to offer opinions and advice on matters beyond their competence.  The word entered English in 1819 when used by English literary critic and self-described “good hater”, William Hazlitt (1778–1830), in an open letter to William Gifford (1756–1826), editor of the Quarterly Review, a letter described by one critic as “one of the finest works of invective in the language” although another suggested it was "one of his more moderate castigations" a hint that though now neglected, for students of especially waspish invective, he can be entertaining.  The odd quote from him would certainly lend a varnish of erudition to trolling. 

Ultracrepidarian comes from a classical allusion, Pliny the Elder (circa 24-79) recording the habit of the famous Greek painter Apelles (a fourth century BC contemporary of Alexander the Great (Alexander III of Macedon, 356-323 BC), to display his work in public view, then conceal himself close by to listen to the comments of those passing.  One day, a cobbler paused and picked fault with Apelles’ rendering of shoes and the artist immediately took his brushes and pallet and touched-up the errant sandal’s straps.  Encouraged, the amateur critic then let his eye wander above the ankle and suggested how the leg might be improved but this Apelles rejected, telling him to speak only of shoes and otherwise maintain a deferential silence.  Pliny hinted the artist's words of dismissal may not have been polite.

So critics should comment only on that about which they know.  The phrase in English is usually “cobbler, stick to your last” (a last a shoemaker’s pattern, ultimately from a Germanic root meaning “to follow a track'' hence footstep) and exists in many European languages: zapatero a tus zapatos is the Spanish, schoenmaker, blijf bij je leest the Dutch, skomager, bliv ved din læst the Danish and schuster, bleib bei deinen leisten, the German.  Pliny’s actual words were ne supra crepidam judicaret, (crepidam a sandal or the sole of a shoe), but the idea is conveyed is in several ways in Latin tags, such as Ne sutor ultra crepidam (sutor means “cobbler”, a word which survives in Scotland in the spelling souter).  The best-known version is the abbreviated tag ultra crepidam (beyond the sole), and it’s that which Hazlitt used to construct ultracrepidarian.  Crepidam is from the Ancient Greek κρηπίς (krēpís) and has no link with words like decrepit or crepitation (which are from the Classical Latin crepare (to creak, rattle, or make a noise)) or crepuscular (from the Latin word for twilight); crepidarian is an adjective rare perhaps to the point of extinction meaning “pertaining to a shoemaker”.

Jackson Pollock (1912-1956): Blue Poles

In 1973, when a million dollars was a still lot of money, the National Gallery of Australia, a little controversially, paid Aus$1.3 million for Jackson Pollock’s Number 11, 1952, popularly known as Blue Poles since it was first exhibited in 1954, the new name reputedly chosen by the artist.  It was some years ago said to be valued at up to US$100 million but, given the last decade's increase in the money supply (among the rich who trade this stuff), that estimate may now be conservative.

Number 11 (Blue poles, 1952), Oil, enamel and aluminum paint with glass on canvas

Blue Poles emerged during Pollock’s "drip period" (1947-1950), a method which involved techniques such throwing paint at a canvas placed on the floor.  The art industry liked these (often preferring the more evocative term "action painting") and they remain his most popular works, although at this point, he abandoned the dripping and moved to his “black porings phase” a darker, simpler style which didn’t attract the same commercial interest.  He later returned to more colorful ways but his madness and alcoholism worsened.  Pollock (1912-1956) died in a drink-driving accident.

Alchemy (1947), Oil, aluminum, alkyd enamel paint with sand, pebbles, fibers, and broken wooden sticks on canvas

Although the general public remained uninterested or sceptical, there were critics, always drawn to a “troubled genius”, who praised Pollock’s work and the industry approves of any artist who (1) had the decency to die young and (2) produced stuff which can sell for millions.  New York art historian and curator Helen A Harrison (now director of the Pollock-Krasner House and Study Centre) is an admirer, noting the “pioneering drip technique…” which “…introduced the notion of action painting", where the canvas became the space with which the artist actively would engage”.  As a thumbnail sketch she offered:

Number 14: Gray (1948), Enamel over gesso on paper

“Reminiscent of the Surrealist notions of the subconscious and automatic painting, Pollock's abstract works cemented his reputation as the most critically championed proponent of Abstract Expressionism. His visceral engagement with emotions, thoughts and other intangibles gives his abstract imagery extraordinary immediacy, while his skillful use of fluid pigment, applied with dance-like movements and sweeping gestures that seldom actually touched the surface, broke decisively with tradition. At first sight, Pollock's vigorous method appears to create chaotic labyrinths, but upon close inspection his strong rhythmic structures become evident, revealing a fascinating complexity and deeper significance.  Far from being calculated to shock, Pollock's liquid medium was crucial to his pictorial aims.  It proved the ideal vehicle for the mercurial content that he sought to communicate 'energy and motion made visible - memories arrested in space.”

Number 13A: Arabesque (1948), Oil and enamel on canvas

Critics either less visionary or more fastidious seemed often as appalled by Pollock’s violence of technique as they were by the finished work (or “products” as some labelled the drip paintings), questioning whether any artistic skill or vision even existed, one finding them “…mere unorganized explosions of random energy, and therefore meaningless.”  The detractors used the language of academic criticism but meant the same thing as the frequent phrase of an unimpressed public: “That’s not art, anyone could do that.”

Number 1, 1949 (1949), Enamel and metallic paint on canvas 

There have been famous responses to that but Ms Harrison's was practical, offering people the opportunity to try.  To the view that “…people thought it was arbitrary, that anyone can fling paint around”, Ms Harrison conceded it was true anybody could “fling paint around” but that was her point, anybody could, but having flung, they wouldn’t “…necessarily come up with anything.”  In 2010, she released The Jackson Pollock Box, a kit which, in addition to an introductory text, included paint brushes, drip bottles and canvases so people could do their own flinging and compare the result against a Pollock.  After that, they may agree with collector Peggy Guggenheim (1898-1979) that Pollock was “...the greatest painter since Picasso” or remain unrepentant ultracrepidarians.

Helen A Harrison, The Jackson Pollock Box (Cider Mill Press, 96pp, ISBN-10:1604331860, ISBN-13:978-1604331868).

Three photographs by Cecil Beaton (1904-1980), shot for a three-page feature in Vogue (March 1951) titled American Fashion: The New Soft Look which juxtaposed Pollock’s paintings hung in New York’s Betty Parsons Gallery with the season’s haute couture by Irene and Henri Bendel.  Beaton choose the combinations of fashion and painting and probably pairing Lavender Mist (1950, left) with a short black ball gown of silk paper taffeta with large pink bow at one shoulder and an asymmetrical hooped skirt by Bendel best illustrates the value of his trained eye.

Critics and social commentators have always liked these three pages, relishing the opportunity to comment on the interplay of so many of the clashing forces of modernity: the avant-garde and fashion, production and consumption, abstraction and representation, painting and photography, autonomy and decoration, masculinity and femininity, art and commerce.  Historians of art note it too because it was the abstract expressionism of the 1940s which was both uniquely an American movement and the one which in the post-war years saw the New York supplant Paris as the centre of Western art.