Showing posts sorted by relevance for query vinyl. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query vinyl. Sort by date Show all posts

Sunday, October 8, 2023

Groovy

Groovy (pronounced groo-vee)

(1) Of, pertaining to, or having grooves.

(2) Set in one's ways (obsolete).

(3) Inclined to follow a fixed routine (obsolete).

(4) Cool, neat, interesting, fashionable, highly stimulating or attractive; excellent. (used in the 1940s and then more frequently in the 1960s and 1970s; now dated but often used ironically or to suggest an association with the 1960s counter-culture (hippies, psychedelia and all that).

(5) A programming language for the Java Virtual Machine (JVM), now under the auspices of the Apache Software Foundation.

(6) In music (jazz), as a professional compliment with the meaning "performing well (without grandstanding)”.

(7) In music, melodious, danceable; particularly of a riff or bassline.

1853:  The construct was groove + -y.  Groove was from the Middle English grov, grove, groof & grofe (cave; pit; mining shaft), from the Old English grōf (trench, furrow, something dug), from the Proto-Germanic grōbō (groove, furrow”, from the primitive Indo-European ghrebh- (to dig, scrape, bury).  It was cognate with the Dutch groef & groeve (groove; pit, grave), the German Grube (ditch, pit), the Norwegian grov (brook, riverbed) & the Serbo-Croatian grèbati (scratch, dig).  The earlier form in Old English was grafan (to dig) and from here there’s a lineal descent to groove and, at some point, a fork led to “grave”.  The –y suffix was from the Middle English –y & -i, from the Old English - (-y, & -ic”, suffix), from the Proto-Germanic -īgaz (-y, -ic), from the primitive Indo-European -kos, -ikos & -ios (-y, -ic).  It was cognate with the Scots -ie (-y), the West Frisian -ich (-y), the Dutch -ig (-y), the Low German -ig (-y), the German -ig (-y), the Swedish -ig (-y), the Latin -icus (-y, -ic) and the Ancient Greek -ικός (-ikós); doublet of -ic.  Groovy is a noun & adjective, grooving is a noun & verb, groovier & grooviest are adjective, groover & grooviness are nouns and groovily is an adverb; the noun plural is groovies (though groovers is more common).  The standard comparative is groovier and the superlative grooviest but constructs like supergroovy, ultragroovy and hypergroovy have been seen and the The alternative spelling groovey is extinct.

Groovy was first noted in 1853 in the metal working trades as a literal descriptor of the surface texture of metals and evolved into the general sense of “of or pertaining to a groove” and oral (either a dialectic form or specific to metal working) use may pre-date 1853.   One colloquial figurative sense was "having a tendency to routine, inclined to a specialized and narrow way of life or thought", attested from 1882 and linked to the idea of a grove being “something permanent, static and unchanging”.  That sense died out and the next figurative use was something of the opposite.  The reason English never created ungroovy or nongroovy is there were already number of words adequately to convey the idea, the one most associated with the 1960s counter-culture being "square" which used to convey the quality of "someone honorable & upright".  It's possible the purloining of "square" was developed from the familiar "straightlaced" although the eighteenth century "squaretoe" was an epithet applied to disparage the "prim & proper"; this later form is thought unrelated to the hippies' use of "square".

Groovers in the groove: Lindsay Lohan (right) DJing with former special friend, DJ Samantha Ronson (left).

The slang sense in the context of jazz music is from circa 1926 and was used by musicians to convey a professional compliment: "performing well (without grandstanding)”.  This seems to have migrated to adopt its modern sense to describe something wonderful in the late 1930s although it even then tended to be confined to the young and, outside of parts of some US cities, doesn’t appear to have enjoyed wide use.  It became widely popular in 1960s youth culture which spread world-wide, including beyond the English-speaking word.  Despite falling from favor after hippiedom passed its peak, it’s never actually gone extinct and occasional spikes are noted, triggered usually by some use in pop-culture.  Generally though, it’s been out of currency since the 1970s although still used ironically.

Groovy.  1970 Plymouth Hemi Cuda with Mod Top.  This is the only Hemi Cuda with the Mod Top option.

The psychedelic Mod Top was a Plymouth factory option in 1969-1970.  Ordered mostly in yellow, the flower power themed material was supplied by the plastics division of Stauffer Corporation, chosen for their expertise in the manufacture of durable, brightly patterned tablecloths and shower curtains.  The company, dating from 1907, remains in family ownership and still operates but it’s not known if it's one of the Stauffer families which are branches of the Staufer Dynasty (known also as the Hohenstaufen) which provided a number of medieval German kings who were crowned also as Holy Roman Emperors.

1969 Plymouth advertising: Barracuda (left) & Satellite (right).  The copy called the motif a "pop print", an allusion to "pop art" which recently had emerged as a trend in the art market.

In the curious way Chrysler allowed its divisions to operate in the era, Dodge, Plymouth’s corporate stable-mate, offered a similar option called the Floral Top, the material for which was supplied by another company.  The companion to the Mod Top roof was matching vinyl paisley upholstery and floor mats which could be mixed and matched, some cars built with one but not the other although, despite it being possible, no convertible buyers (who by definition couldn’t tick the vinyl roof box) opted for the hippie interior.  Technically, Stauffer used exactly the same design technique used when applying flowers to tablecloths and shower curtains: endlessly repetitive patterns which repeat every 3-4 feet (900 mm-1.2 m), the same model used with most fake finishes for surfaces which emulate natural substances (granite, marble, timber etc).

1969 Dodge Daytona with Floral Top.

Few finds attract collectors like factory one-offs, genuine rarities produced by a manufacturer despite officially not being available in that configuration.  The 503 1969 Dodge Daytonas (produced only because the National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing (NASCAR) imposed a minimum build number in their homologation rules) included some extreme aerodynamic modifications and have long been sought-after, trading these days well into six figures.  It does seem Dodge may have made one with the Floral Top, despite it not being a Daytona option although the evidence for it being a genuine factory product is undocumented, based instead on oral testimony.  Many experts do seem convinced and, during the era, such "unicorns" did exist.


One's three choices to display one's grooviness.

1970 Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda with Mod Top, the logo's groovy lettering part of the vibe.  Almost all this vinyl was glued on during the administration of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) who, although a competent pianist, was not at all groovy.

It’s not known how many survive, many a vinyl roof being removed or replaced with a solid color after the hippie vibe became unfashionable but some with the option have become collectables and reproduction vinyl is now available for those wanting the vibe back; the closer to the original condition a car can be rendered, the higher the value.  The nature of the unfortunate accessory is such that it’s never going to influence the price to the extent a rare or desirable engine or transmission might but, for the originality (or at least the replication) police, these things are an end in themselves.  Available in yellow or blue and with matching interior trim, 2792 freaks ordered these in 1969 but by 1970, only 84 repeated the mistake.  Altmont had prevailed over Woodstock; the 1960s were over.


Mod Top (Plymouth) & Floral Top (Dodge) production count, 1969-1970.

There however the patterned roof didn't die although the grooviness did.  Despite it being the intermediate-sized Satellite which in 1969 which attracted the most mod-toppers, Plymouth the next year restricted availability to the pony cars and demand proved embarrassingly modest.  Not discouraged, the factory in mid-year offered a somewhat subdued variation on their full-sized line, the Fury, a flourish perhaps surprising given the evolution of the market segment.  Until the 1960 model year, the “big three” (General Motors (GM), Ford & Chrysler) had each produced essentially one mainstream line (low-volume specialties such as the Thunderbird and Corvette just lucrative niche players).  Beginning in the 1960 model-year, that would change, increasing prosperity encouraging and the growing success of smaller imports compelling Detroit’s big three to introduce first compact, then intermediate and later sub-compact ranges, what came to be called the full-sized cars having grown just too big, heavy and thirsty for many.

The market spoke and the full-sized ranges, while remaining big sellers, gradually abandoned the high-performance versions which had once been the flagships, the smaller, lighter intermediates, pony cars and even the compacts much more convincing in the role.  By 1970, the big cars ran a gamut from stripper taxi-cabs to elaborately blinged-up luxury cars (which grew so big they cam later to be called "land yachts") but attempts to maintain a full-sized finger in the sporty pie was nearly over.  By 1970, only Ford still had a four-speed manual gearbox on the option list for the big XL and Chrysler, although the lusty triple-carburetor 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8 could be had in some Fury models, it was available only with the TorqueFlite automatic.  All of General Motors' (GM) full-size machine were by then definitely heavy cruisers.

But Plymouth clearly believed the Fury still offered some scope in other stylistic directions; it was after all a big canvas.  Mid-season, quietly slipped into the range was the "Gran Coupe", based on the Fury II two-door sedan but bundled with a number of otherwise extra-cost options including air conditioning and the then fashionable concealed headlights.  What was most obvious however, was the paisley theme, a patterned vinyl roof with matching upholstery, most Gran Coupes finished in a newly created copper tone paint although other colors were available.

1971 Rover P5B 3.5 Coupé.

The Gran Coupe was retained for 1971 but the coachwork was the more elegant pillarless hardtop in both two and four-door versions, the latter still known as a coupe.  That attracted criticism from those who had come to associate the word exclusively with two-door bodywork but in the UK Rover had since 1962 offered a four-door “Coupé” although they did cut the P5’s roof-line a little, a nod to the history of the word coupé (from the French coupé, an elliptical form of carosse coupé (cut carriage), past participle of couper (to cut)).  Shamelessly, Plymouth ignored the etymology and invented the un-cut coupe, clearly believing gluing on some paisley vinyl vested sufficient distinction.  The factory also imposed some restraint on buyers: although the Gran Coupe was available in a variety of colors, only if the standard interior trim (tan) was chosen would the paisley patterned upholstery be available and, befitting the likely ownership of the full-sized line, the vinyl roof was subdued rather than the swirling psychedelia of the groovy Mod Top’s swirls.  In the twenty-first century the “four door coupe” became a thing but although Rover seems to have been the first to apply a “Coupé” badge, the now familiar motifs were seen in some coach-built four-doors during the inter-war years, the big Duesenbergs and Buccialis among the most memorable.

Following Rover: 1971 Plymouth Fury III Gran Coupe (four-door hardtop).  There are four door coupes because Plymouth said so.

It was for years the end for any exuberance in the full-sized lines.  Although the option of a four-speed manual transmission appeared in the early catalogues for the 1970 Ford XL, none were built and Chevrolet had already removed the SS option for the Impala; big engines would remain, indeed, they would grow larger but power would drop, the full-sized lines of both now hunting those wanting cut-price Lincolns and Cadillacs rather than something in the spirit of the old "letter series" Chrysler 300s.  Plymouth had already abandoned the Mod Top after lackluster sales in 1970 and the more dour paisley vinyl lasted only another year, consigned to history with the triple-carburetor 440.  Happily, decades later, big-power engines would make a comeback but fortunately, the paisley vinyl roof remained forgotten.

"Rich Burgundy", before & after UV exposure.

Chrysler's use of the term "paisley" was actually a bit misleading; only some of the groovy vinyl was a true paisley but the marketing people liked it so applied it liberally, even to fabric with big yellow sunflowers.  Customers didn't however share the enthusiasm felt by the sales department and by mid-1970, Chrysler realized they had a lot of bolts of un-wanted paisley vinyl in the warehouse; this was some time before just-in-time (JIT) supply chains.  The inspired suggestion was to dye the vinyl a dark purple and offer it only with the "Sparkling Burgundy Metallic" paint which was exclusive to the Imperial line, the theory being the same as used with hair-dyes: dark can always cover light.  Some testing verified the theory and in September the 1971 models began to be shipped to dealers, some cars parked outside... in direct sunlight.  Almost immediately, the now burgundy vinyl began to fade.  If nothing else, the incident illustrated the point made by Austrian–British philosopher Sir Karl Popper (1902–1994): What is critical in theories is not proof but disproof; it matters not how how many bolts of vinyl satisfactorily can be dyed purple, if just one fades in the sunlight then it's a bad idea.  Chrysler replaced the tops with either black or white vinyl and this time the paisley option was killed for good.  A handful actually were sold with the purple fabric still attached, later to fade, at which point most owners took up the offer for the white or black re-cover, depending on the interior trim chosen but at least one (which must have spent the decades protected from the ultra-violet) still exists as it left the factory.

Prototype 1967 Chevrolet Camaros.

Chrysler wasn’t the only US manufacturer to offer the patterned vinyl roof, Mercury for a single season in 1970 having houndstooth available for the Cougar and even GM flirted with the idea before thinking better of it.  Hidden away in GM’s vast historical archive before being published early in the twenty-first century were photographs of the patterned vinyl being contemplated for the 1967 Chevrolet Camaro’s debut in late 1966.  Chevrolet seems to have produced prototypes with both paisley and houndstooth vinyl and intriguingly, also pictured were (presumably functional) side mounted exhaust pipes, exiting under the rear of the door.  Like the Camaro’s triple carburetor option (cancelled late in the planning process), neither the patterned vinyl roofs nor the side pipes reached production, the latter remaining exclusive to the Corvette.

Thursday, December 22, 2022

Album

Album (pronounced al-buhm)

(1) A bound or loose-leaf book consisting of blank pages, pockets, envelopes etc, for storing or displaying photographs, stamps, or the like, or for collecting autographs.

(2) A digital collection of photographs, stored on a computer or mobile device for viewing, displaying, or sharing.

(3) A record or set of records containing several musical selections, a complete play or opera etc.

(4) The package or container for such a record or records:

(5) A collection of audio recordings released together as a collected work:

(6) A printed book containing an anthology of writings, reproductions of photographs or artwork, musical compositions etc.

(7) In Ancient Rome, a white tablet or register on which the praetor's edicts and other public notices were recorded.

1645–1655: From the late Middle English albo (souvenir book), from the Classical Latin album (a board calked or painted white, onto which was inscribed in black, certain public notices, most notably the Annales Maximi, compiled by the Pontifex Maximus, high priest of the Collegium Pontificum (College of Pontiffs) which listed the year’s most significant events and appointments).  In Latin, the literal meaning of album was "white in color; whiteness", a noun use of the neuter of the adjective albus (white).

Album of Frederick Handel's (1685-1759) Messiah (1741) on 18 x 78 rpm shellac records; Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, under Sir Thomas Beecham (1879-1961), RCA Victor, 1947. 

The word was revived in Prussia circa 1645 by German scholars whose custom was to keep an album (amicorum) of colleagues' signatures, the meaning later expanded to include "book with blank leaves meant to collect signatures and other souvenirs" and according the entry in Samuel Johnson’s (1709-1784) A Dictionary of the English Language (1755), the album was "…a book in which foreigners have long been accustomed to insert autographs of celebrated people."  Photographic albums (in which people mounted photographs) were first advertised in 1859 and in 1882, the publisher Stanley Gibbons added to their catalogue the “stamp album” to meet the demand from the increasingly popular (and sometime profitable) hobby of philately.  The word became the popular descriptor of the (twelve-inch (300 mm)) 33⅓ rpm LP (long-playing) record in the 1950s although the term had earlier been used of (what would later be known as “boxed sets”) the bundled collections of 78 rpm records which, for certain recordings, demanded dozens of disks.  The use of “album” was an allusion to the resemblance of the paper sleeves, in which the shellac (and later polyvinyl chloride (PVC and usually called “vinyl”)) disks were stored, to the pages of autograph or stamp albums.

Lindsay Lohan's discography: Speak (Casablanca, 2005) & A Little More Personal (Raw) (Casablanca, 2005).

The Grateful Dead, Anthem of the Sun (1968).

The twelve-inch vinyl LP was an ideal format for commercial music distributors because it allowed 40-50 minutes of product to be packaged on the one disk, thereby permitting even long opera performances to be released as an album which required usually no more than 3-4 disks.  In popular music, the 50 minute limit (which technology did later permit to be extended to about an hour) was perfect and there many releases which barely troubled the lower end of the limit, format allowing acts to release several albums a year, each with perhaps a dozen songs (“tracks” as they came to be called).  This corresponded well with both creative output and the occasional release of a live performance and when required, double albums could be recorded and by the 1970s, there were even some triple and quadruple-disk albums.

The Incredible String Band, The 5000 Spirits or the Layers of the Onion (1967).

The eight-track cartridge and the much more successful cassette tape proved handy as portable media but operated less as a competitor than an adjunct to the vinyl product and it wasn’t until the compact disc (CD) gained critical mass in the mid-1980s that the 12 inch format came to be supplanted.  The CD was another format which proved ideal for the industry, particularly during the first decade-odd of its existence when the duplication hardware was for most (unlike cassette decks which were bundled with mainstream (3-in-1) stereo systems), prohibitively expensive.  The CD didn’t add greatly to the duration available for recording but the sound quality was superior (some vinyl audiophiles still dispute that), unit production and distribution costs were lower and windfall profits were raked in as the early CDs were sold at high prices and many consumers actually duplicated at least some of their vinyl collection as well as buying new releases.  Thus the “album age” lasted until displaced by the digital era which made possible the consumer’s (probably long-standing) preference to purchase the individual tracks they prefer.

Iron Butterfly, In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida (1968).

Until largely displaced by the smaller CD, the twelve inch album sleeve existed as a form of pop-art which attracted its own school of criticism.  Between the mid-1960s and late 1980s, small industries arose to create the artwork and there was even a niche in specialist publishing which produced compilations, the more psychedelic efforts especially popular and the “gatefold covers” used for the double and triple albums even permitted a wider vista; the results sometimes good, sometimes not.  The so-called “concept album” appeared to have had little effect on the album cover artwork which is surprising given it was such an obvious way to encapsulate a “concept”.  However, the definition of the “concept album” was always vague and while there were plenty with some discernible theme, it could with others be difficult to work out just what the “concept” was supposed to be.  Still, it was a word which suggested ambitions beyond a collection of three-minute singles and in the 1960s there was a growing industry of earnest critics, anxious to find meanings and ready to fill in the gap if none was immediately obvious.  Sometimes they would write as if influenced by TS Elliot, sometimes they'd just gush and if the idea had been delayed a generation, they would probably have called them "paradigm albums".     

There were great moments in album covers but, unfortunately, the memorable cover for Svetlana Gruebbersolvik's My Lips are for Blowing was a fake.  Beginning in the 1960s, the album cover with its standardized 12 x 12 inch (300 x 300 mm) format became a sub-genre of pop-art, the movement lasting until the smaller media of the CD rendered the packaging obsolete.  The twelve inch format has enjoyed something of a twenty-first century revival but the volumes are too low to support the scale of graphic-art industry which once flourished. 

Monday, March 9, 2020

Landau

Landau (pronouned lan-daw (U) or lan-dou (non-U))

(1) A light, four-wheeled (traditionally horse-drawn) carriage with two or four passenger seats (the original landaus were two seaters but when four-seat versions became common, the two-seaters informally were dubbed landaulets), the folding top for the four-seat version made in two parts which could be let down or folded back, the two meeting over the middle of the passenger compartment; in the four-seat versions, the front and rear passenger seats would face each other, an arrangement now often called “vis-à-vis seating”.

(2) By extension, a style of automobile coachwork (usually a limousine or large sedan) with a partially convertible roof arrangement, the most rearward part retractable.

(3) A model name for automobiles now with no precise definition but typically was applied to vehicles with some variation in the treatment of the roof (though not necessarily a configuration and often something merely decorative).

1743 (1723 in the German): The orthodox history is the carriages were named after the German city of Landau because it was there they seem first to have been produced.  The German originals were Landauers, on the model of the Berliner, a carriage with origins in the city of Berlin.  The city of Landau in der Pfalz (Landach in the Palatine German and usually clipped to Landau) is an autonomous (kreisfrei) town in the southern Rhineland-Palatinate.  Land was from the common Germanic element land (land, territory (which obviously endures in English), from the Proto-Germanic landą, from the primitive Indo-European lend- (land, heath); it was cognate with the Proto-Celtic landā.  The origin of the second element is disputed.  Landau, landaulet & landaulette are nouns; the noun plural is landaus.

The Landau

A four-seat landau.

Not all historians of transportation concur with the Germanic origin.  The alternative etymology suggests the name of the carriage was really from the Spanish lando (a light four-wheeled carriage drawn by mules), from the Arabic al-andul and the claim by the Germans was just blatant commercial opportunism.  If one accepts the orthodox etymology, in 1723, when first displayed in the city of Landau, the description Landauer meant one thing: a two-seater horse-drawn light carriage configured with four wheels on two sprung axles and with a fabric top which could be thrown back (ie lowered) to the rear.  It was a "luxury vehicle" and as a two-seater a marker of wealth but, as Ford in the late 1950s worked out when considering how to stimulate sales of their two-seat Thunderbird (1955-1957), it was obvious a larger market beckoned were a four-seat version available.  Accordingly, production commenced on what was essentially a LWB (long wheelbase) chassis, made by splicing together the passenger compartments of two Landaus, the seats in the traditional (vis-à-vis) arrangement of two benches facing each other.  An additional attraction of the approach was production line rationalization, the design allowing the existing folding roof to be re-used and duplicated (ie "mirrored"), one hinged from the front, one from the rear; when erected, they met in the centre above the passengers.  Access to the compartment was provided by one or two side-doors, the upper section of which was a framed glass window which could be removed (a la the accessory fitted to some phaetons although later Landaus would feature "wind-down" glass).  All these designs and mechanisms would at some point appear on early automobiles which was predictable for devices known originally as "horseless carriages".  In the records from the time, there are drawings of these four-seat carriages with a single fabric roof (hinged from the rear, in the style of the modern convertible)  but it’s not clear how many, if any, were built and the plans may never have gone beyond being a "concept".

Before there were landaus, another carriage had provided an entry provoking disputes among historians.  Designed probably in the late 1660s by a Piedmontese architect under commission from the quartermaster-general to Frederick William (1620–1688; Elector of Brandenburg and Duke of Prussia 1640-1688), several of what came to be known as Berliners were used by the elector to travel from Berlin to Paris, then a trip of 1,055 km (655 miles) and, upon arrival, the elegant but obviously robust vehicles caused a sensation and immediately the design was copied by Parisian coachbuilders attracted by the ease of construction, efficiency of space utilization and critically, the economical use of materials which made them cheaper to build.  Lighter and with a lower centre of gravity which made them also safer, the French named them berlines in honor of their city of origin and quickly they began to supplant the less practical and frankly uncomfortable state and gala coaches which had been the definitive seventeenth century carriage.  After the four-seat carriages came to be the "default" Landaus, the smaller versions were for a time known variously as "Landaulets" and "Landauettes" but the use didn't persist. 

The origin of the Berliner is undisputed but there have long been “alternative facts” contesting the genesis of the landau.  The generally accepted history (first built in Landau and thus known as Landauers) is supported by contemporary literature, the carriage mentioned in Goethe's (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 1749–1832) epic-length poem Hermann and Dorothea (1796-1797):

Constantly, while he thus spoke, the crowds of men and of women
Grew, who their homeward way were over the market-place wending;
And, with the rest, there also returned, his daughters beside him,
Back to his modernized house on the opposite side of the market,
Foremost merchant of all the town, their opulent neighbor,
Rapidly driving his open barouche,—it was builded in Landau.
Lively now grew the streets, for the city was handsomely peopled.
Many a trade was therein carried on, and large manufactures.

A barouche was a large, open, four-wheeled carriage, historians of the industry suggesting Goethe was describing a Landauer and Jane Austen (1775-1817) in Emma (1816) wrote of a “barouche-landau” which combined “…the best features of a barouche and a landau” although the blend was apparently “not a popular innovation”.  Noting this critique, Austen scholar Jennifer Ewing (Library Director at Southern California Seminary in El Cajon), pondered whether the “… choice of carriage itself speak to the elusiveness of the Sucklings in Emma, always promised, but never realized?  Such is the way of modern academic deconstruction but carriages were important in Austen’s writings, the size and style of a man’s carriage used as a marker of his wealth and social distinction, the author as astute an observer of such things as any Instagram influencer.

The classic barouche was a four-wheeled, shallow-bodied carriage with an open design and low sides, configured for four passengers in a vis-à-vis arrangement with a folding leather top which covered only the rear seat, the front left exposed.  It was thus really a “summer carriage” for the “see and be seen” set, the designs noted for their elegance.  The lack of practicality made them a niche product for the rich and the barouche-landau was essentially a barouche with a second folding roof.  The customer always being right, the Landau prospered while the Barouche-Landau, being neither one thing nor the other, soon was squeezed from the market.  Barouche was from the dialectal German Barutsche, from the Italian baroccio, from the Late Latin birotium, from the Classical Latin birotus (chariot), the construct being bi- (two, double) + rot(a) (wheel) + -us (the noun suffix).  As was not unusual, in English the spelling was altered to suggest a French origin.  An elegant summary of carriage design is provided by the wonderful Susanna Ives, without whom most would not know the elliptical springs used as often as suspension systems were in the trade termed “nut-crackers”; disappointingly, this was an allusion to the shape of the metal rather than the effect on male anatomy from the sometime rough ride they induced.  Now we know.

A more dramatic story is that associated with the epic journey by Austrian Archduke Joseph (1678–1711; Holy Roman Emperor & King Joseph I of Austria 1705-1711) who in 1702 arranged a fleet of 77 coaches to carry him and his entourage of 250 from Vienna to Landau, there to take the command at the siege of what was then a fortress on the French border.  It’s claimed the feat of moving the 250 men in 14 daily stages was so extraordinary the coaches were forever associated with the town of Landau, the French soldiers also so impressed they took the name back to Paris.  It’s a romantic story (something not typical in the history of military logistics) but Goethe and Austen are thought more persuasive.

The theory of an Arabic origin of the name is interesting, the argument being the Arabic al-andul (litter, cars (and related to the Sanskrit hindola (a swinging cradle or hammock; an ornamental swing or litter in which figures of kṛṣṇa are carried during the Swing-festival in the light half of the month śrāvaa))) came into Spanish as lando (four-seat cart drawn by mules) from which it migrated in the form "landau" into English & French and was only then brought into German by popular etymological reinterpretation with the place name Landau and formed thus into Landauer.  The Arabic derivation has the advantage there’s no reliance of anecdotal tales of military adventure or historically dubious claims of manufacturing innovation but it’s wholly inconsistent with the chronology of verified evidence.  The word as the name of a carriage was documented in German in 1723 (and in English by 1743), but there's no trace in Spanish until 1830 and most etymologists think it more likely from the French than the Arabic.

Landaulet and Landaulette

The landaulette was a body style developed early in the twentieth century by car manufacturers and specialist coachbuilders, the construct being landau(l) + -ette (from the Middle English -ette, a borrowing from the Old French -ette, from the Latin -itta, the feminine form of -ittus.  It was used to form nouns meaning "a smaller form of something").  A landaulette was distinguished by the compartment being covered by a convertible top while the front remained enclosed (although a landaulette rear-section was sometimes combined with the sedanca de-ville coachwork which had an open section also at the front (sometimes with a detachable top), leaving only a central portion with a permanently fixed roof.  It was once a very popular style used in taxis (in the days before air-conditioning (A-C)) and was a feature of many parade limousines used for figures such as heads of state when they wished to be more visible to large crowds.  This use is now rare because of concerns about security and those old state landaulettes which survived ended up mostly as movie props or in museums & private collections.  There were rare examples of use in the wedding trade but while (most) brides tend not to be concerned about a risk of assassination, they do think about their hair and, given a choice, most probably opted for something closed.  In the UK, historically, landaulette was used when referring to motor vehicles while the older landaulet was reserved for horse-drawn carriages.  The construct of landaulet was landau(l) + -et (from the Middle English -et, from the Old French –et & its feminine variant -ette, from the Late Latin -ittusloosely construed, it was used to form diminutives.  By the early twentieth century, "landaulet" had become the standard form on the continent but it refers to the same coachwork as landaulette.  Both words are now rare and it’s only specialists who are likely to apply them correctly.

When used by car manufacturers "landaulet" & "landaulette" always describes a vehicle in which a roof was in some way partially retractable but so loosely did "landau" come to be applied that it really meant only what the producer said it meant.  For decades, it was popular with US manufacturers (surprisingly, among the ever-imitative Japanese manufacturers, only Mazda followed the naming trend) which had decided the phrase "landau roof" could be used to describe various treatments, usually involving gluing on vinyl to a roof's rear portion .  With that, "landau" ceased necessarily to imply a roof which partially could be retracted and came to refer to something which looked (at a distance) vaguely as if it might.

1979 Chrysler Cordoba with opera windows and landau roof in padded white vinyl.  Inside, the car is trimmed in "rich Corinthian leather".

One effect of World War II (1939-1945) was that advances in science and engineering which likely would have taken at least decades to emerge happened in the space of a few years and as well as jet engines and atomic bombs, in the early post-war years there were factories mass-producing vinyl, Perspex and fibreglass.  Supply assured, all that was required was demand and this US capitalism was more adept than any at stimulating, one of the more unfortunate consequences being the vinyl roof appearing on cars.  Cadillac with the 1956 Eldorado seems to have started the trend (which wouldn’t be (almost) eradicated until the 1990s) and while most of the early implementations covered the whole surface, in the 1970s the “landau roof” became a thing, often in conjunction with “opera windows” (the origin of which were the “portholes” added to the fibreglass hard-top on the 1956 Ford Thunderbird as a visibility aid).  What the “landau roof” was intended to recall was the folding leather top on carriages and earlier automobiles; whether many customers really picked up the historic allusion is uncertain but in the US the look caught on because on some models it was an extra-cost option and often it was ordered.  In retrospect the fad was a contribution to the phrase describing the 1970s: “the decade style forgot” but to many at the time the landau roof seemed a good idea and the big parking spaces in golf club car parks were for decades riddled with the things.

1977 Mazda Cosmo L Coupé with opera windows and landau roof in padded cream vinyl.

Although in the US the fender-mounted side mirrors were known informally as “Datsun mirrors”, all cars produced for the JDM (Japanese domestic market) were between 1952 and 1983 required to have a matching set of フェンダーミラー (fendā mirā (an adaptation of the US -English “fender mirror”, known in the UK as “wing mirrors”.)) and these sat about mid-way between the base of the A-pillar and front bumper bar.  The law was in 1983 liberalized only because Western manufacturers had argued the refusal to allow the door-mounted mirrors (which had by then long been elsewhere the standard) was a “non-tariff trade barrier”.  Quickly they vanished from JDM showrooms but remained on the street because even now, fendā mirā continue to be fitted to most JDM vehicles built for the taxi market because not only do they provide a wider vista, they also protrude less from the body, something of some significance in the crowded traffic plying the often narrow roads in Japanese cities; for taxi drivers, every saved millimetre can be precious.  Sociologists explain the there is also a cultural imperative, the fender mirrors allowing customers to feel a greater sense of privacy because drivers can use the mirrors without turning their head toward the passenger seat; such a glance could be misconstrued and face could be lost.  In the US, there is a small but dedicated cult which retro-fits fendā mirā for that "authentic" Japanese look.

It didn’t spread to Europe or Australia but what Detroit did was at the time a bit of a cargo cult for the Japanese industry and there, opera windows and landau roofs duly appeared although surprisingly, of the ever imitative Japanese manufacturers, it seems to have been only Mazda which used the name and then only for export sales.  Mazda’s CD Cosmo/RX-5 series (1975-1981) was a (scaled down) PLC (personal luxury car) on the popular US template and while the early versions used only a fastback body with three side windows, in 1977 came a Lincoln Continentalesque notchback coupé model called the Landau, complete with opera windows and landau vinyl roof with the obligatory padding.  Never a big seller on international markets (where it appeared as both the RX-5 (with Wankel engine) and 121 (with piston engine), the Mini Mark V Lincoln was a big hit in the JDM although there it was sold as the Cosmo L.  Why the “Landau” named wasn’t used in the JDM isn’t known but rather than PLC Mazda preferred PSC (Premium Specialty Car) and despite the use of padded vinyl, its museum notes of the Cosmo L: “Its leather-covered landau roof further emphasized the premium feel”.  Maybe it was felt “Landau” was a bit obscure and “L” might be thought by buyers to denote “Luxury” or “Leather”.

The Ford (Australia) Landau (ZG70;1973-1976)

Even at the time, the Ford P5 Landau (Ford's internal code was JG70 but because it was the companion product to the P5 LTD, usually it's described as "Landau" or "P5 Landau") seemed to many not a good idea.  Sales of large ("compact" in 1973 US terms) coupés had dropped precipitously since a brief burst of popularity and the only thing on the market which might have been a competitor, the Chrysler by Chrysler hardtop (with its own bizarre take on the vinyl roof), had been dropped earlier in the year after eighteen months of disappointing sales.  Ford's own Hardtop, debuting late in 1972 had come too late to enjoy much of the earlier fad which probably was a warning of sorts but it also meant there was a warehouse full of Hardtop shells for which demand was diminishing.  Thus the Landau, a two-door version of Ford Australia's new LTD, a (much) stretched and (much) gorped (gorp was what the industry once called bling) Falcon, the parts-sharing meaning the Landau could be brought into production at modest cost; from the Detroit parts-bin came Mercury hidden-headlight assemblies and Thunderbird wheel-covers, the later marvelously intricate but so vulnerable to impacts with Australia's high kerb-sides they were soon replaced with units which protruded less.  Underneath lay the familiar combination of Ford's 351 cubic inch (5.8 litre) Cleveland (335) V8 and FMX automatic transmission, the most notable mechanical innovation being the country's first locally produced (as opposed to assembled) car with four-wheel disk brakes, Ford even claiming the numbers of Landaus produced as counting towards the brakes being homologated for series-production racing, the rationale being the Landau's mechanical similarity to the Falcon GT Hardtops used in competition.  It now sounds implausible but that's how things used to be done.

The Landau's other "structural" change from a Falcon Hardtop was a pair of small sheet-metal "plugs", crudely welded into part of the rear-window apertures so a more "formal" roofline could be fashioned.  The seams were never finished to a fine standard because one feature of the LTD & Landau was a padded vinyl roof which, handily, covered the imperfections.  There was a precedent for doing that because a vinyl roof appeared on all 1970 Plymouth Road Runner Superbirds, it being cheaper to glue the stuff on rather than properly finish the metalwork around the rear window after the stylish but aerodynamically dubious buttresses had been removed.  The previous year, Dodge had done the metalwork on their Daytona "aero car" but they made only 500-odd whereas the rules had been changed, compelling Plymouth to produce some four times as many Superbirds.  Plymouth didn't add any padding and a padded vinyl roof is a really bad idea because it means a layer of porous foam rubber sits between the vinyl and ferrous metal of the roof, moisture accumulating and rust soon starting with proximity to a coastline or the tropics tending to dictate how soon and ultimately to what extent.  That's also how things used to be done.  Still, once inside it was plush enough with lashings of (real) leather and four bucket seats (though despite the bulk of the thing the rear compartment was cramped and the cut-down windows made travel a claustrophobic experience) although  the budget didn't extend to real timber, the "woodgrain" on the steering wheel and instrument panel being plastic.  As Ford summed it up, what was being offered included reproduction English burl walnut, a leather grained vinyl roof, subtle soft chamois toned leather & doeskin tone cut pile carpet”.  In fairness, "reproduction" is used in that sense in the art market.  In the cockpit, the highlights were a twenty-four hour analogue clock and aviation inspired controls for the air-conditioning, recalling those installed rather more extravagantly on European machinery like the Facel Vega; they delighted some although one grumpy reviewer dismissed them as "an affectation".  Just so people knew they were looking at something classy, pressed into the padded roof (about where the welding seams were being hidden) was a (wholly fake) coat of arms with lions rampant, two more escutcheons glued-on inside to comfort the passengers.

As a road car it was capable, even rapid by the standards of the time (only those used to the torque of the US big-block V8s would have though it anything but "effortless") and the new brakes really were (pre-ABS) world class.  For commuting or touring it was a comfortable experience, at least for two although it could be hard to manage in urban conditions, the Hardtop's already marginal rear-visibility further compromised by the loss of side-glass and the combination of the coupé's lowered roofline and almost flat rear window meant the aft-view was like looking through a slit.  That was unfortunate because the Hardtops had been designed with series-production racing in mind so the rear fenders flared outwards, allowing wide tyres to be fitted without modification to the bodywork.  Reversing a Landau could be a challenge but it was one not many took up, fewer than 1400 sold in a three-year run.  The timing of the release had been unfortunate for not only was it now in a dying market segment but within three months, the first oil shock hit.  The 351 V8, even it's more efficient (pre-emission control) form was always thirsty but in the Landau with all the luxury bits and pieces adding some 440 lb (200 KG) to the anyway hardly svelte Falcon Hardtop, it was worse.  When the P6 LTD was released in 1976, although one P6 Landau prototype had constructed for evaluation, the coupé quietly was dropped but now, the survivors are a collectable, one popular modification the removal of the vinyl roof and the proper finishing of the welded cover-plates.  None of the history of course explains why Ford called the thing "Landau" given (1) no part of the roof folded and (2) the padded vinyl was applied all the way to the windscreen, the coverage not even hinting at the tradition.  The answer was the product planners just liked the name because the thought it imparted something prestigious and exclusive; by 1973 "landau" was as distant from the horse-drawn originals as was "brougham", another popular moniker for gorped machines.

The Mercedes-Benz Landaulets

Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100, 1963-1981) Landaulet (long-roof).  Most of the 600 Landaulets were built with the six-door coachwork but there were some which used the four-door body and the vis-à-vis seating.  The ones with the longer folding soft-top informally were called the "presidential" but this was never the factory's designation.

Although in production for almost two decades, Mercedes-Benz built only 2677 600s, 428 of which were the LWB Pullmans.  Of those, 59 were configured as Landaulets with a convertible roof extending either over the rearmost seats or the whole passenger compartment.  Just 12 of the latter were built and the only one known to have bought a matched-pair was Kim Il-Sung (Kim I, 1912–1994; Great Leader of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (the DPRK, North Korea)) who ordered two in 1968.  Just as the DPRK and its grateful population passed to his descendants, Kim Jong-Il (1941–2011; Kim II, Dear Leader of the DPRK 1994-2011) and Kim Jong-Un (Kim III, b 1983; Supreme Leader of the DPRK since 2011), they also inherited the Landaulets which for decades were a fixture at state occasions like military parades.  Buying a brace ensured an unusual distinction of rarity; the parades are said to be the only occasions when two 600 long-roof Landaulets were seen in the same place at the same time.  The Supreme Leader in 2015 updated to the new S600 Pullman Landaulets but they’re mass-produced compared with the original, lack gravitas and look something like a very big Hyundai (made in the "puppet state" of South Korea (the RoK (Republic of Korea)).  For this reason, the old 600s are retained for occasions when there’s a need really to impress folks and maintain the dynasty’s image of continuity which stretches back to the Great Leader.

The unique SWB 600 Landaulet built for Count Graf von Berckheim.

Mercedes-Benz however built the 600 on a special assembly line and accommodated many customer requests for special features or unusual configurations (although despite it being possible, none ever appear to have been ordered with the legendarily robust MB-Tex (a high quality vinyl) as interior trim, 600 buyers opting always for the customary leather or mohair (sometimes a combination of the two, following the English tradition of "leather for the chauffeurs, cloth for the passengers").  Given all that, it may be there were 600s which were identically configured but it can't have been many and one genuine one-off was a landaulet built on the SWB (short wheelbase) platform for racing driver Graf von Berckheim (Count Graf Philipp-Constantin Eduard Siegmund Clemens Tassilo Tobias von Berckheim, 1924-1984).

Standard and Spezial coachwork on the Mercedes-Benz 300d (W189, 1957-1962).  The "standard" four-door hardtop was available throughout the run while the four-door Cabriolet D was offered (off and on) between 1958-1962 and the Spezials (landaulets, high-roofs etc), most of which were for state or diplomatic use, were made on a separate assembly line in 1960-1961.  The standard greenhouse cars are to the left, those with the high roof-line to the right.

The 300d (W189, 1957-1962) was a revised version of the W186 (300, 300b & 300c; 1951-1957) which came to be referred to as the "Adenauer" because several were used as state cars by Konrad Adenauer (1876–1967; chancellor of the FRG (Federal Republic of Germany, the old West Germany) 1949-1963).  Although the coachwork never exactly embraced the lines of mid-century modernism, the integration of the lines of the 1950s with the pre-war motifs appealed to the target market (commerce, diplomacy and the old & rich) and on the platform the factory built various Spezials including long wheelbase pullmans , landaulets, high-roof limousines and four-door cabriolets (Cabriolet D in the Daimler-Benz system).  The high roofline appeared sometimes on both the closed & open cars and even then, years before the assassination of John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963), the greenhouse sometimes featured “bullet-proof” glass.  As well as Chancellor Adenauer, the 300d is remembered also as the "Popemobile" (although not then labelled as such) of John XXIII (1881-1963; pope 1958-1963).

Clockwise from top left: 300d (W189) papal throne, 300d (W189), 600 (W100), 300SEL (W109), S500 (W140), 300GD (W460), G500 (W463), ML500 (W166).  Just about everybody quickly dubbed the new cars "popemobiles".

The factory for decades provided the Vatican with papal landaulets, used in parades and sometimes they travelled with popes to foreign lands.  After the assassination attempt on John Paul II (1920–2005; pope 1978-2005), the concept was refined, the convertible top replaced with bullet-resistant clear panels and popes now less frequently appear in open-top cars.  The 1965 Papal 600 Landaulet was built for Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) and used the higher roof-line which was a feature of some of the Spezial Pullmans ordered as "state cars".  The attractions of the high-roof coachwork included (1) greater headroom which afforded more convenient ingress & egress (a practical matter given the cars were sometime parade vehicles used by royalty and military dictators, both classes given to wearing crowns or big hats) and (2) the extended greenhouse made it easier for crowds (anxious for a wave) to see the occupants.

Lincoln Continental X-100

X-100 unprotected and with an array of some of the roof accessories which enabled it to be configured as a four-door convertible, landaulet or town car.

The 1961 Lincoln Continental (Secret Service code SS-100-X but used as X-100) in which President John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) was assassinated could be configured as (1) a four-door convertible, (2) a landaulet with a top attached above the driver’s compartment or (3) a town car (the combination of an open driver's cockpit and open passenger compartment, also known various as a coupé de ville and sedanca de ville).  It was sometimes also used with a protective Perspex shield for the rear compartment but, infamously, this wasn’t used on the day of the assignation.  After the events in Dallas it was modified to include much more protective equipment and returned to the Secret Service’s White House fleet where it remained in service until 1976, something which seems to disturb (apparently more sensitive) later generations.  There is a persistent myth the fitting of Perspex screens to state limousines began after JFK's assassination but it long predated that event, dignitaries liking to be protected from the elements as well as bullets.  Coincidentally (presumably), Lincoln's companion division, Mercury, in 1969-1970, sold a version of its full-sized Marauder two-door hardtop as the X-100, nominally a high-performance model but actually using an un-modified (360 horsepower) 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre) version of the corporate 385-series V8.  Essentially, the X-100 was an attempt to be in 1965 what the "letter seriesChrysler 300s had been between 1955-1965 but the moment had passed and the days of the "banker's hot-rods" were done.  The X-100 was never replaced.

Landaulettes of the Royal Mews and beyond

Top: The State Landau carriage, built in 1902 by Messrs Hooper for Edward VII (1841–1910; King of the UK & Emperor of India 1901-1910).  Bottom: Wedding processions of the Prince of Wales to Lady Diana Spencer (1961-1997), 29 July 1981 (left), Prince Andrew (b 1960) to Sarah Ferguson B 1959), 23 July 1986 (centre) and Prince William (b 1982) to Catherine Middleton (b 1982), 29 April 2011.

The 1902 State Landau was first used by Edward VII for his coronation procession through London on 9 August 1902 and it has made frequent appearances since.  Solidly built and well-maintained, it has lasted well, unlike the marriages of some of the royal couples who have sat in it to and from the church where they promised state and God to remain together till death do them part.  Clearly not superstitious, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge choose the 1902 Landau although Prince Harry (b 1984) and Meghan Markle (b 1981) decided not to risk the curse, riding instead in one of the five Ascot landaus in the Royal Mews. 

Queen Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of England the UK and other places, 1952-2022) and her consort Prince Philip (1921-2021) in 1954 Rolls-Royce Phantom IV State Landaulette by Hooper (Chassis 4BP5, Body 9941, Design 8399).

A bespoke creation produced exclusively for heads of state and crowned royalty (the "crowned" bit an important status symbol in royal circles) and never offered for sale to the public (a distinction shared only with the Mercedes-Benz 770K (W150; 88 made 1939-1943) and the Bugatti Royale (7 made, 1927-1933), Rolls-Royce between 1950-1958 made only 18 Phantom IVs, one of which was a ute (a light pickup truck!) used by the factory until it was scrapped.  The Phantom IV's other footnote in Rolls-Royce history is it was their first and last passenger car powered by a straight-8 engine.


Twenty years after: Elizabeth II & Prince Philip in Mercedes-Benz 600 Landaulet, Brandenburg Gate, Berlin, state visit, June 1965.  This is a four-door "presidential" version with the vis-à-vis seating.

Although there is no known record of her thoughts on the matter, probably no individual ever had a more varied experience of landaulettes than Elizabeth II, her earliest exposure to the type coming during the 1930s and even before assuming the throne in 1952 she’s been driven in models built Daimler, Austin and Humber.  Landaulettes had a long associate with the Royal Mews, Edward VII (1841–1910; King of the UK & Emperor of India 1901-1910) in 1905 accepting delivery of a Renalut 14/20 Landaulette, the cross-channel purchase a nod not only to the lead the French automobile industry enjoyed early in the century but also to the Anglo-French Entente Cordiale (1904) the king had nudged his not always enthusiastic ministers towards.

1960 Rolls Royce Phantom V State Landaulette.

Originally allocated to Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother (1900-2002), in her will it was left to the Prince of Wales (now Charles III (b 1948; King of the United Kingdom since 2022)) and the unusually protuberant folding top was added to accommodate the hats worn by the Duchess of Cornwall (formerly Kate Middleton (b 1982), a young lady taller than most previous passengers.

The Royal Mews is the palace’s garage, the name from the royal stables at Charing Cross and the plural of mew (moulting (of falcons); falcon cage).  Mew was from the Middle English mewe, mue & mwe, from the Anglo-Norman mue & muwe and the Middle French mue (shedding feathers; cage for moulting birds; prison), from muer (to moult).  In falconry, it was the place where birds of prey were housed and, based on the visual similarity (at a larger scale), the word came to be used of the alleyways with stables on either side.  When cars (a clipping of "carriage") were introduced to the royal household, some of the stables were re-configured as garages but the name was never changed.  During her reign, the queen had several Rolls-Royce landaulettes, the company gaining the royal warrant in the 1950s, supplanting Daimler which had for decades supplied the fleet, the change reputedly at the instigation of the palace courtiers who didn’t approve of Daimler’s chairman (Sir Bernard Docker (1896–1978)) marriage to Norah (Lady Docker, formerly Callingham, formerly Collins, née Turner; 1906–1983) a dance-club hostess who was thrice-married, each husband proving more lucrative than the last.  It’s said the gentlemen at the palace found her “a bit common” and in their circle, that's about as bad as it gets.


Cadillac (left), Imperial (centre) & Lincoln (right) landaulettes built for the 1959 Royal Tour of Canada.

As well as the various British-built landaulettes, Elizabeth II had the chance to compare them with those from France, Germany and the US and it was during the 1959 royal tour of the Dominion of Canada a probably unique opportunity arose to C&C (compare & contrast) the products of GM (General Motors), Ford & Chrysler, the Canadian Government ordering from them respectively a Cadillac, Lincoln & Imperial landaulette.  That not only meant there could be no suggestion of corporate favouritism but also ensured the busy schedule of parades ran like clockwork, the RCAF’s (Royal Canadian Air Force) Transport Command using its Fairchild C-119 Flying Boxcars to air-freight the machines between appointments, the royal couple proceeding usually by rail or boat.

Daimler DS420 Landaulet by Vanden Plas.

In 1956 a well-executed boardroom coup saw the defenestration of Sir Bernard and Lady Docker meaning Daimler again became respectable and over the decades a number of Daimlers appeared in the Royal Mews including several DS420s and some of those based on the Jaguar XJs.  None of the Daimlers were however landaulettes.  Vanden Plas made only two Daimler DS420 Landaulets but many have been converted by coach-builders (and some folk less skilled), the results said to be variable.  Many of the converted landaulets were used in the wedding trade, there presumably being genuine advantages for brides with big hair willing to take a risk with the wind and rain.  The DS420 was in production between 1968-1992 and used the platform of the big Jaguar Mark X (1961-1970; in 1966 slightly revised and re-named 420G), the sales of which had never met expectations, failing in the home market because it was just too big and in the US because the factory chose to use 3.8 & 4.2 litre versions of the XK-Six as the powerplant rather than the 4.6 litre Daimler V8.  The underpinnings of the Mark X (the unitary construction, all-independent suspension and four-wheel disk brakes) were generations ahead of the US competition but the XK-Six was underpowered and lacked the torque required in what was a heavy machine though a 5.5 litre V8 version (the Daimler unit could have been enlarged) with a well-integrated A-C system would likely have been a great success in the US.  However disappointing the Mark X might have been, the long and lucrative career of the DS420 meant that eventually, the platform proved one of Jaguar's most enduringly profitable.

Landau irons and the Ford Thunderbird Landaus, 1967-1971

Cadillac Hearse based on 1987 Cadillac Brougham (used in the Lindsay Lohan film Machete (2010), left), 1964 Alvis TE21 DHC (drophead coupé) by Park Ward (centre) and 1938 Mercedes-Benz 540K Cabriolet C by Sindelfingen (right).

The landau irons (which some coach-builders insist should be called “carriage bars”) on the a roof's rear side-panels emulate in style (though not function) those used on horse-drawn carriages and early automobiles (the last probably the 1962 Mercedes-Benz 300 Cabriolet D).  On those vehicles, the irons actually supported the folding mechanism but as a decorative device they proved useful on those hearses not fitted with rear side-windows, existing to relieve the slab-sidedness of the expanse of flat metal.  A similar large surface sometimes existed on the bigger convertibles which had neither landau irons or side-windows in their soft-tops, illustrated by the bulk of the fabric on the soft-top of the Alvis TE21 (above, centre).  The look divides opinion, pleasing some but not all.

1969 Ford Thunderbird Landau Coupe (429).

In what was a case study of supply responding to demand, the Ford Thunderbird which in 1955 had debuted as a two-seat convertible, was re-designed for 1958 as a four-seater, sales immediately rising.  Having already made the correct decision in 1955 to position the T-bird as a “personal car” rather than a sports-car and being rewarded with something which outsold the Chevrolet Corvette more than twenty-fold, it was obvious to rely on what doubtlessly still is the biggest “big-data” metric of all: what people are prepared to pay for.  Thus the T-bird continued successfully until 1966 as a four-seat coupé and convertible.  By 1967 however, Ford needed to consider not just the competing products of other manufacturers but also the corporation’s own proliferating range, the wildly successful Mustang and its new, up-market derivative, the Mercury Cougar, both of which (and not just at the margins) overlapped the T-bird’s lucrative niche.  Additionally, Lincoln had released a two-door version of the Continental so the T-bird needed somehow to appeal to those considering competitor vehicles yet try to avoid cannibalizing sales within the corporation.

1967 Ford Thunderbird Landau Sedan (428).

Thus for the fifth generation Thunderbird (1967-1971), the convertible was gone (not to return until the one-off retro-car of 2002-2005) and the two flavors of coupé were joined by a four-door sedan, "suicide" (ie the rear units rear-hinged) doors used not just as a novelty but because, as had been the case with the 1961 Lincoln, the wheelbase was just a little too short comfortably to accommodate conventional hinging.  With Lincoln’s four-door convertible in its last days because of declining sales, no such T-bird had been contemplated but quite how sincere Ford was in trying not to impinge on Mercury and Lincoln attracted attention even at the time.  The 1967 Thunderbird was the most expensive car on Ford’s list, attracting buyers who ticked much on the option list and they tended to leave the showroom costing much more than any other Ford or Mercury, the most expensive, the four-door Landau Sedan, sitting within a few hundred dollars of an entry-level Lincoln.

The much admired “wrap-around” rear compartment: 1971 Ford Thunderbird Landau Coupé (429).

By 1967, the US industry had long come to regard words like “landau” and “brougham”, once technical terms from coach-building, as just handy marketing terms, a brougham now something with more gorp and a landau, usually a car distinguished often by sometimes oddly-shaped windows added to the C-panel and the increasingly bizarre ways in which vinyl would be glued to the roof and Ford wasn’t alone in adding fake “landau irons” (sometimes called “landau bars”) to cement the association.  Actually last used as a functional device for a convertible top in 1962 on the Mercedes 300d Cabriolet D (w189), they’d come to be adopted as a decorative flourish on C-pillars, thought to impart some link with the big cabriolets of the 1930s with which they were associated.  On the two-door T-bird Landaus, that’s how they were used but on the four-door, they gained a new functionally: Disguising unfortunate styling.

1967 Ford Thunderbird sedan: it’s a strange look without the vinyl roof and would be more bizarre still without fake landau irons.

On the two-door Thunderbirds the irons were just gorp but the sedan was built on a relatively short wheelbase combined with a large "formal" C-Pillar so the only way to make the door opening wide enough to be functional was use the “suicide” configuration and integrate some of the structure into the C-Pillar.  To conceal what would otherwise have been obviously extraneous metal if painted: (1) a vinyl roof was glued on (covering also the affected part of the door) and (2) the curve of the landau bars formed an extension of the trim-line (roof guttering).  As a visual device it worked, making the four-door Thunderbird (1967-1971) the only car ever improved by the addition of the otherwise ghastly vinyl roof although it works best in a black-on-black combination, further disguising things.  Ford’s aesthetic trickery was clever but didn’t much help in the showroom, the four-door a slow seller which wasn’t replaced when the sixth generation was released only as a (very big) coupé which went on to great success.

1962 Pontiac Catalina convertible with Riveria "Esquire" Series 300 hard-top.  Note the fake landau irons.

Although for three seasons in the 1950s Ford had offered a full-size convertible with a retractable hard-top (a masterpiece ensemble of electric motors, relays and literally miles of wiring), no other manufacturer has since attempted such a venture.  Despite that warning from the industry, at least one aftermarket supplier thought there might be demand for something large and detachable.  Riveria Inc, based in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, offered them between 1963-1964 for the big (then called full or standard-size) General Motors (GM) convertibles and such was GM’s production-line standardization, the entire range of models (spread over three years and five divisions (Cadillac, Buick, Oldsmobile, Pontiac & Chevrolet), could be covered by just three variations (in length) of hard-top.  Made from fibreglass with an external texture which emulated leather, weight was a reasonable 80 lb (30 kg) but the sheer size rendered them unmanageable for many and not all had storage for such a bulky item, the growth of the American automobile meaning garages accommodative but a few years earlier were now cramped.    

1962 Chevrolet Impala SS (Super Sport) convertible with Riveria "Esquire" Series 100 hard top.

Riveria offered their basic (100 series) hard-top in black or white, a more elaborately textured model (200 series) finished in gold or silver while the top of the range (300 series) used the same finishes but with simulated landau irons.  No modification was required to the car, the roof attaching to the standard convertible clamps, the soft-top remaining retracted.  Prices started at US$295 and the company seems to have attempted to interest GM's dealers in offering the hard-tops as a dealer-fitter accessory but corporate interest must have been as muted as buyer response, Riveria ceasing operations in 1964.

1935 MG NB Magnette “Faux Cabriolet” on Triple-M chassis (chassis number NA0801).  The body is believed the work of an unknown Irish coach-builder.

Lest it be thought Riveria & Ford adding fake landau bars to their roofs was typical American vulgarity, across the Atlantic, their use as a decorative accouterment was not unknown.  Most of the 738 MG N-type Magnettes (1934-1936) were bodied as roadsters or DHCs (drop head coupé, a style understood in Europe as a cabriolet and in the US as a convertible) and while coach-builders like Carbodies and Allingham did a few with enclosed bodywork, chassis NA0801 is the only known “Faux Cabriolet” and it would be more rapid than many because the 1271 cm3 (78 cubic inch) SOHC (single overhead camshaft) straight-six has been fitted with a side-mounted Marshall 87 supercharger.  While the combination of that many cylinders and a small displacement sounds curious, the configuration was something of an English tradition and a product of (1) a taxation system based on cylinder bore and (2) the attractive economies of scale and production line rationalization of “adding two cylinders” to existing four-cylinder units to achieve greater, smoother power with the additional benefit of retaining the same tax-rate.  Even after the taxation system was changed, some small-capacity sixes were developed as out-growths of fours.  Despite the additional length of the engine block, many N-type Magnettes were among the few front-engined cars to include a “frunk” (a front trunk (boot)), a small storage compartment which sat between cowl (scuttle) and engine.

1935 MG NB Magnette “Faux Cabriolet”.

The elegantly scalloped shape of the front seats' squabs appeared also in the early (3.8 litre version; 1961-1964) Jaguar E-Types (1961-1974) but, attractive as they were, few complained when they were replaced by a more prosaic but also more accommodating design.  The lengths of rope fitted just behind the door frames were for years these were known as “assist straps”, there to aid those exiting and while not needed by the young or still agile, were a help to many.  When implemented as a rigid fitting, they were known (unambiguously) as “grab handles” but in the US in the 1970s they were sometimes advertised as “Lavaliere straps”.  Lavaliere was a term from jewellery design which described a pendant (typically with a single stone) suspended from a necklace, the style named after Françoise-Louise de La Baume Le Blanc, Duchess of La Vallière and Vaujours (1644–1710) who was, between 1661-1667 (a reasonable run in such a profession), the mistress of Louis XIV (1638–1715; le Roi Soleil (the Sun King), King of France 1643-1715).  It’s said the adaptation of her name for the pendants was based on the frequency with which the accessories appeared in her many portraits.