Barracuda

Barracuda (pronounced bar-uh-koo-duh)

(1) Any of several elongated, predaceous, tropical and subtropical marine fishes of the genus Sphyraena, certain species of which are used for food.

(2) Slang term for a treacherous, greedy person (obsolete); slang term for one who uses harsh or predatory means to compete.

(3) A car produced by the Plymouth division of Chrysler Corporation in three generations between 1964-1974.

1670-1680: From American Spanish, thought derived from customary use in the Caribbean, borrowed from the Latin American Spanish barracuda, perhaps from a Cariban word, most likely the Valencian-Catalan barracó (snaggletooth), first recorded as barracoutha.

The 1971 Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda at auction

While the 1964 Ford Mustang is credited with creating the pony-car market, it was actually the Plymouth Barracuda which came first, released seventeen days earlier.  Ford’s idea was to drape a sexy new body over an existing, low-cost, platform and drive-train and Chrysler chose the same route, using the sub-compact Valiant as Ford were using their Falcon.

1965 Ford Mustang

Unfortunately, despite the project having been in the works for years, a sudden awareness Ford were well advanced meant Chrysler’s lower-budget development was rushed.  Despite the Valiant’s platform and drive-train being in some aspects better than the Falcon, Plymouth’s Barracuda was a bit of a flop, outsold by its competitor initially by around ten to one, numbers which got worse.  While the Mustang got what was called “the body from central casting”, from the windscreen forward, the Barracuda retained the sheet-metal from the mundane Valiant, onto which was grafted a rear end which was adventurous but stylistically disconnected from the front.

1964 Plymouth Barracuda

It was an awkward discombobulation although, with the back-seat able to be folded down to transform the rear passenger compartment into a large luggage space, it was clever design.

1971 Jensen FF

The novelty of that rear-end was a giant rear window which, at 14.4 square feet (1.34m³), was at the time the largest ever installed in a production car.  In 1966, even grander glazing was seen on the Jensen Interceptor, styled by Italy’s Carrozzeria Touring, but there it was ascetically successful, the lines of the big trans-Atlantic hybrid more suited to such an expanse of glass.

1967 Plymouth Barracuda

The extraordinary success of the Mustang nevertheless encouraged Chrysler to persist and the Barracuda, though still on the Valiant platform, was re-styled for 1967, this time with the vaguely Italianesque influences seen also in 1966 in the revision to Chevrolet’s doomed, rear-engined Corvair.  As a design, it worked well and offered both notchback and convertible coachwork as well as a fastback but, because of the economic necessity of retaining some aspects of the Valiant’s structure, wasn’t able to realise the short-deck, long-hood look with which the Mustang had established the pony car design motif used still today.

1969 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am

General Motors’ (GM) answer to the Mustang wasn’t as constrained by the fiscal frugality which had imposed so many compromises on the Barracuda, the Chevrolet Camaro and the substantially similar Pontiac Firebird both introduced in 1966 with a curvaceous interpretation of the short-deck, long-hood idea which maintained a relationship with the GM’s then voguish “coke-bottle” designs.  In a twist on the pony car process, the Camaro and Firebird were built on an entirely new platform which would later be used for Chevrolet’s new competitor for the Valiant and Falcon, the Nova.  Just as the pedestrian platforms had restricted the freedom to design the Barracuda, so the Camaro’s underpinnings imposed compromises in space utilization on the Nova, a few inches of the passenger compartment sacrificed to fashion.  For 1967, Ford released an updated Mustang, visually similar to the original but notably wider, matching the Camaro and Firebird in easily accommodating big-block engines, not something Chrysler easily could do with the Barracuda.

1969 Plymouth 'Cuda 440

However, this was the 1960s and though Chrysler couldn’t easily install a big-block, they could with difficulty and so they did, most with a 383 cubic inch (6.3 litre) V8 and, in 1969, in a package now called ‘Cuda, a few with the 440 (7.2 litre).  At first glance it looked a bargain, the big engine not all that expensive but having ticked the box, the buyer then found added a number of "mandatory options" so the total package did add a hefty premium to the basic cost.  The bulk of the 440 was such that the plumbing needed for disc brakes wouldn’t fit so the monster had to be stopped with the antiquated drum-type and nor was there space for power steering, quite a sacrifice in a car with so much weight sitting atop the front wheels.  The prototype built with a manual gearbox frequently snapped so many rear suspension components the engineers were forced to insist on an automatic transmission, the fluid cushion softening the impact between torque and tarmac.  Still, in a straight line, the things were quick enough to entice almost 350 buyers.  To this day the 440 remains the second-largest engine used in a pony car, only the Pontiac 455 (7.5 litre) offering more displacement.

1968 Plymouth Barracuda Convertible

The better choice, introduced late in 1967, was an enlarged version of Chrysler’s LA, small-block V8, now bored-out to 340 cubic inches (5.6 litre); it wouldn’t be the biggest of the LA series but it was the best.  A high-revving, free-breathing thing from the days when only the most rudimentary emission controls were required, the toxic little (a relative term) 340 gave the ‘Cuda performance in a straight line barely inferior to the 440, coupled with markedly improved braking and cornering prowess.  One of the outstanding engines of the era and debatably the best small-block, it lasted, gradually detuned, until 1973 by which time interest in performance cars had declined in parallel with the engineers ability to produce them while also complying with the increasingly onerous anti-pollution rules.

1968 Hemi 'Cuda, ex factory

Of course, for some even a 440 ‘Cuda wouldn't be enough and anticipating this, in 1968, Plymouth took the metaphorical shoehorn and installed the 426 cubic inch (6.9 litre) Street Hemi V8, a (slightly) civilised version of their racing engine.  Fifty were built (though one normally reliable source claims it was seventy) and with fibreglass panels and all manner of acid-dipping tricks to reduce weight, Plymouth didn’t even try to pretend the things were intended for anywhere except the drag strip.  The power-to-weight ratio of the 1968 Hemi ‘Cudas remains the highest of the era.

1971 Plymouth 'Cuda

The third and final iteration of the Barracuda was introduced as a 1970 model and lasted until 1974.  Abandoning both the delicate lines of the second generation and the fastback body, the lines were influenced more by the Camaro than the Mustang and it was wide enough for any engine in the inventory.  This time the range comprised (1) the Barracuda which could be configured with either straight-six or one of the milder V8s, (2) the Gran 'Cuda which offered slightly more powerful V8s and some additional luxury appointments including the novelty of an overhead console (though obviously not available in the convertible) and (3) the 'Cuda which was oriented towards high-performance and available with the 340, 383, 440 and 426 units, the wide (E-body) platform able to handle any engine/transmission combination.  Perhaps the best looking of all the pony cars, sales encouragingly spiked for 1970, even the Hemi ‘Cuda attracting over 650 buyers, despite the big engine increasing the price by about a third and it would have been more popular still, had not the insurance premiums for such machines risen do high.  With this level of success, the future of the car seemed assured although the reaction of the press was not uncritical, one review of the Dodge Hemi Challenger (the ‘Cuda’s substantially similar stable-mate), finding it an example of “…lavish execution with little thought to practical application”.

1971 Plymouth 'Cuda Convertible

Circumstances however conspired to doom the ‘Cuda, the Hemi, the Challenger and almost the whole muscle car ecosystem.  Some of the pony cars would survive but for quite some time only as caricatures of their wild predecessors.  Rapidly piling up were safety and emission control regulations which were consuming an increasing proportion of manufacturers’ budgets but just as lethal was the crackdown by the insurance industry on what were admittedly dangerously overpowered cars which, by international standards, were extraordinarily cheap and often within the price range of the 17-25 year old males most prone to high-speed accidents on highways.  During 1970, the insurance industry looked at the data and adjusted the premiums.  By late 1970, were it possible to buy insurance for a Hemi ‘Cuda and its ilk, it was prohibitively expensive and sales flopped from around 650 in 1970 to barely more than a hundred the next year, of which but a dozen-odd were convertibles.

It was nearly over.  Although the Barracuda survived, the convertible and the big-block engines didn’t re-appear after 1971 and the once vibrant 340 was soon replaced by a more placid 360.  Sales continued to fall, soon below the point where the expensive to produce E-body was no longer viable, production of both Barracuda and Challenger ending in 1974.  Even without the factors which led to the extinction however, the first oil-crisis, which began in October 1973, would likely have finished them off, the Mustang having (temporarily) vacated that market segment and the Camaro and Firebird survived only because they were cheaper to build so GM could profitably maintain production at lower levels.  Later in the decade, GM would be glad about that for the Camaro and Firebird enjoyed long, profitable Indian summers.  That career wasn't shared by the Javelin, American Motors’ belated pony car which, although actually more successful than the Barracuda, outlived it only by months.

1971 Hemi 'Cuda Convertible at 2021 auction

It was as an extinct species the third generations ‘Cudas achieved their greatest success... as used cars.  In 2014, one of the twelve 1971 Hemi ‘Cuda convertibles sold at auction for US$3.5 million and in 2021, another attracted a bit of US$4.8 million without reaching the reserve.

Engagement

Engagement (pronounced en-geyj-muhnt)

(1) The act of engaging or the state of being engaged.

(2) A mutual pledge of marriage, betrothal.

(3) An appointment or arrangement.

(4) A pledge, obligation, agreement or other condition that binds.

(5) Employment, or a period or post of employment, especially in the performing arts.

(6) An encounter, conflict, or battle.

(7) In mechanics, the act or state of interlocking.

(8) In contract law, a promise (archaic).

(9) In economics (usually plural), financial obligations (archaic).

(10) In obstetrics, the entrance of the foetal head or presenting part into the upper opening of the maternal pelvis.

1615: The construct was engage + ment.  Engagier was Middle English from the Old French engagier (under pledge), through Frankish from Proto-Germanic wadiare (pledge).  Word widely spread in European languages; the Frankish anwadjōn (to pledge), from Proto-Germanic wadjōną (to pledge, secure), wadją (pledge, guarantee).  Cognate with Old English anwedd (pledge, security), Old English weddian (to engage, covenant, undertake), German wetten (to bet, wager) and the Icelandic veðja (to wager).  Engage illustrates the general, common evolution of Germanic to French (eg Guillaume from Wilhelm).  The meaning "attract the attention of" is from 1640s; that of "employ" is from 1640s, derived from "binding as by a pledge."  Specific sense of "promise to marry" is variously cited as dating from between 1610 and 1742 and the military meaning emerged in 1664.  Related forms are the nouns non-engagement and re-engagement, now almost always hyphenated.

A long tradition

The western concept of engagement is derived from the Jewish law (Torah), codified in the last Talmudic tractate of the Nashim (Women) order in which the marriage process is defined in two parts, the erusin (or kiddushin), a betrothal ceremony of sanctification and the nissu'in (or chupah), the formal act of marriage.  This is wholly analogous with the modern tradition of (1) the engagement which reflects a change of relationship between the couple and (2) the marriage which changes their legal status under either, or both, state and church law.  In antiquity, both Hellenic Greece and Rome borrowed and adapted the Hebrew practice with little change.

In the West, canon lawyers proved more exacting, secular lawyers more avaricious and engagements assumed an increasingly contractual form.  While either party could break a betrothal, it was once possible for the spurned partner to sue the other for breach of promise, which, in some jurisdictions, was called heart-balm.  In Australia, these actions were rendered obsolete when attorney-general Lionel Murphy’s Family Law Act (1975) replaced the old Matrimonial Causes Act, a matter of some regret to bishops, Liberal Party lawyers and other moralists.  Also affected were publications like Melbourne’s now sadly defunct Truth which, in its divorce reports, published not only salacious details of infidelity but also the photographs produced as evidence, shots taken typically through the windows of St Kilda hotel rooms.

In Australia, in the narrow technical sense, engagements are compulsory in that one month must elapse between the submission of the Notice of Intended Marriage form and the marriage proper although a prescribed authority may approve a shorter notice time in some limited circumstances (such as when former Governor-General Sir John Kerr (1914-1991) wished rapidly to marry his second wife Anne (aka Nancy (née Taggart, previously Robson)).  Engagements in Australia thus, generally, have a statutory minimum duration of one month.  There’s no maximum, but there’s no record of one matching the longest known engagement, a sixty-seven year arrangement between a Mexican couple; there may have been commitment issues.

On Sunday 28 November 2021, Lindsay Lohan announced her engagement to her boyfriend of two years, Bader Shammas, a Dubai-based fund manager employed by Credit Suisse.  The announcement was made in the twenty-first century way: Instagram.

Omicron

Omicron (pronounced om-i-kron or oh-mi-kron)

(1) The fifteenth letter of the Classical and Modern Greek alphabet and the sixteenth in Ancient archaic Greek; a short vowel, transliterated as o.

(2) The vowel sound represented by this letter.

(3) The common name designated (on 26 November 2021 by the World Health Organization’s (WHO) Technical Advisory Group on Virus Evolution (TAG-VE)) for the variant B.1.1.529 of the SARS-CoV-2 virus which causes the condition COVID-19.

(4) In English, as “o” & “O” (fifteenth letter of the alphabet), a letter used for various grammatical and technical purposes.

Circa 1400: The fifteenth letter of the Greek alphabet (oʊmɪkrɒn; the symbol Oo), literally "small o" (ὂ μικρόν (ò mikrón)), the construct being o + the Ancient Greek (s)mikros (small (source of the modern micro-) and so-called because the vowel was "short" in ancient Greek.  Omega (O) was thus the “long” (O) and omicron the “short” (o).  It’s from omicron both Latin and Cyrillic gained “O”.  Depending on the context in which it’s being written, the plural is omicrons or omicra.

The fifteenth letter of the Greek alphabet was derived from a character which, in Phoenician was called 'ain or ayin (literally "eye") and represented by what most dictionaries record as something like "a most peculiar and to us unpronounceable guttural sound”.  The Greeks also lacked the sound, so when they adopted characters from the Phoenician alphabet, arbitrarily they changed O's value to a vowel.  Despite the medieval belief, there is no evidence to support the idea the form of the letter represents the shape the mouth assumes in pronouncing it.  The Greeks later added a special character for the "long" O (omega), and the original thus became the "little o" (omicron).  In Middle English and later colloquial use, o or o' has a special use as an abbreviation of “on” or “of”, and remains literary still in some constructions (o'clock, Jack-o'-lantern, tam-o'-shanter, cat-o'-nine-tails, will-o'-the-wisp et al).  The technical use in genealogy is best represented by Irish surnames, the “O’” from the Irish ó (ua), which in the Old Irish was au (ui) and meant "descendant".

As a connective, -o- is the most common connecting vowel in compounds either taken or formed from Greek, where it is often the vowel in the stem.  English being what it is, it’s affixed, not only to constructions purely Greek in origin, but also those derived from Latin (Latin compounds of which would have been formed with the L. connecting or reduced thematic vowel, -i).  The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) adds the usage note that this occurred especially when what was wanted were compounds with a sense of Latin composition, which even if technically possible, would not be warranted but, were correct under the principles of Greek composition.  Similarly, blood type-O was in 1926 originally designated “0” (zero)" denoting the absence of any type-A & B agglutinogens but the letter O was adopted to align the group with existing nomenclature.  The standardized scale in railroads (O=1:48 (1:25 gauges)) dates from 1905.

As the character to represent the numerical value "zero", in Arabic numerals it is attested from circa 1600, the use based on the similarity of shape.  The similarity would later cause a Gaëtan Dugas (1952–1984), a Québécois Canadian flight attendant, mistakenly to be identified as "Patient Zero" (the primary case for HIV/AIDS in the United States).  The error happened because of a mistake made in 1984 in either the reading or transcription of a database maintained by the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) which tracked the sexual liaisons and practices of gay and bisexual men, mostly those from California and New York. Dugas, because he was statistically unusual in having no relevant connections with either state, was coded as "Patient O" (indicating out-of-state) but this was at some point misinterpreted as "Patient 0 (Zero)".  Dugas was later identified as "Patient Zero" (ie the person who introduced HIV/AIDS to North America) in Randy Shilts's (1951-1994) book And the Band Played On: Politics, People, and the AIDS Epidemic (1987) which explored the outbreak of the AIDS epidemic in the United States.  Shilts would later dismiss the significance of the technical error, claiming it made no difference to his point that Dugas engaged in behavior by which he either carelessly, recklessly or intentionally infected his many sexual partners with HIV (a claim subsequently contested by others).  Shilts died in 1994 from an AIDS-related condition.

Notable Lancias

1981 Lancia Beta Spyder (Zagato).

Vincenzo Lancia (1881–1937) used letters from the Greek alphabet (Alpha, Beta, Lambda, Kappa, Omicron et al) as model names for many of his early vehicles but, although applied in 1953 to a one-off range based on commercial chassis, with the release of the Beta (1972-1984) in 1972 it was the first time since 1945 the company had used letters from the Greek to designate a passenger vehicle.  It wasn’t Lancia’s first use of Beta, that had been the 1909 car which replaced the Alpha (also Alfa) and, although the 1972 car had been intended to be the model which would symbolize Lancia’s re-birth (il risorgimento), Beta rather than Alfa was chosen to avoid confusion with Alfa-Romeo.  The Beta was available in two four-door saloon bodies, a coupé, a three-door estate and, as a co-project with Zagato, a targa-style convertible with a structural arrangement vaguely similar to that used by the Triumph Stag.  In some markets, in an attempt to enhance the image, the Monte-Carlo sports car was badged as a Beta.  The survival rate of the Betas was low because of the dubious build quality and the poor quality of the steel used in construction, most of it reputedly from the USSR and often described as “porous” although some sources contest that and maintain it was poor design and inadequate corrosion-prevention measures which meant so many rusted so quickly.

1987 Lancia Thema 8·32.

By the standards of European front wheel drive mass-production, the Lancia Thema (1984-1994), available as a four-door saloon and a five door estate (although a tiny number of long wheelbase limousines were built) was completely conventional and mostly unexceptional but there was one exception, the Thema 8·32.  Introduced at the 1986 Turin Motor Show, instead of the variety of four and six-cylinder petrol and diesel engines used in the mainstream range, the 8·32 was fitted with a version of the three litre V8 Ferrari used in their 308 and Mondial models.  By the mid-1980s, although it was no longer novel to put powerful engines into previously nondescript saloons, the 8·32 was in the avant garde of the more extreme, pre-dating the BMW M5 by a year and the Mercedes-Benz 500E by seven but what made it especially bizarre was that it retained the Thema’s front wheel drive configuration.  That probably sounds like the daftest idea since Oldsmobile and Cadillac in the mid 1960s decided to offer big, front wheel drive personal coupés with 425 & 429 cubic inch (6.9 & 7.0 litre) V8s but the contemporary press reports suggest the 8·32, as a road car, was surprisingly good although those who tested them on racetracks did note the prodigious understeer.  Ferrari supplying Lancia with a V8 was actually returning a favor: In 1954, it was the Lancia D50 Formula One car which became the First Ferrari V8.

1974 Lancia Stratos HF.

The Thema experiment wasn’t the first time Ferrari had provided engines for a Lancia. The Lancia Stratos HF (1973-1978; the HF stands for High Fidelity, a moniker sometimes attached to Lancia’s high performance variations) was named after a 1970 show car designed by Bertone’s Marcello Gandini, the Stratos Zero, although, except conceptually, the production vehicle bore little resemblance to that which lent the name.  The tiny, wedge-shaped coupe was powered by the 2.4 litre V6 with which Ferrari powered their Dino 246 and it was one of the outstanding rally cars of the 1970s, winning the 1974 Targa Florio and taking the World Rally Championship (WRC) in 1974, 1975 & 1976.  Still competitive in the late 1970s when factory support was withdrawn because Fiat, the conglomerate which by then owned Lancia, wished to use its activities in motorsport to promote more mainstream models, it continued in private hands to win events into the 1980s.

1971 Lancia 2000 Coupé.

The Lancia Flavia was in production between 1961 and 1971 before it was re-named the 2000, a reference to the two litre flat-four, introduced in 1969, an enlarged version of the power-plant which, in 1.5 and 1.8 litre displacements, had powered the Flavia.  Although a decade old at its introduction, the two litre Flavia was still of an advanced specification including the then still unusual option of fuel injection.  Although the earlier Flavias were built as four-door saloons, two-door coupés & convertibles (including a quite strange looking coupé variant by Zagato), the 2000 was offered only with saloon and coupé coachwork, the latter so elegant that most forgive the front wheel drive.

1983 Lancia 037.

The last rear-wheel drive car to win the WRC, the Lancia 037 was a highly modified version of the Montecarlo, a Pininfarina-designed mid-engined coupé produced between 1975 to 1981 (and in some markets called the Beta Montecarlo to maintain a link with the more mainstream Beta models).  The Montecarlo had begun life as a project undertaken by Pininfarina to replace Fiat’s much admired but outdated 124 Coupé but Bertone’s X1/9 design was thought so outstanding it was instead chosen; Pininfarina’s bigger, heavier car was then designated the Fiat X1/8, envisaged to compete as an up-market, mid-engined, three litre V6 sports car.  However, after the first oil shock began in 1973, the market was re-evaluated and the Montecarlo, now named X1/20, was re-positioned as a two litre, four cylinder car and handed to Lancia.  In development since 1980, the competition version, the Lancia Rally 037, was released late the next year and in its first competitive season in Group 5 rallying proved fast but still fragile although, it was certainly promising enough for the factory to return in 1983 when, fully developed, it won the WRC.  It was however the end of an era, the 037 out-classed late in the season by the all-wheel-drive competition which has since dominated the WRC.

1971 Lancia Fulvia 1.3 Coupé.

The slightly frumpy looking Fulvia saloon was the mass-selling (a relative term) model of Lancia’s range between 1963 and 1976 but the memorable version is the exquisite coupe produced between 1965-1977.  Mechanically similar to the saloon except that it was on a short wheelbase platform, the front wheel drive Fulvias were only ever offered with tiny V4 engines between 1.1-1.6 litres, the relatively high-performance achieved by virtue of light weight, high specific output and, in the two-door versions,  a surprisingly efficient aerodynamic profile, belying the rather angular appearance (except for the usual special coupes by Zagato which managed, unusually, to look quite attractive).  The HF versions were built for competition with more spartan interior trim, aluminum doors and non-structural panels, the engines tuned for higher power.  Produced in small runs, the early Flavia HFs used quite highly-strung 1.2 & 1.3 litre engines, the last batch gaining a five-speed gearbox.  The definitive competition HF was released in 1969 with a 1.6 litre engine and was nicknamed the Fanalona (big headlamps), an allusion to the seven inch units which had replaced the earlier five inches.  Almost mass-produced by earlier standards, over thirteen hundred were build and it delivered for the factory-supported Squadra Corse team, winning the 1972 Monte Carlo Rally.  The success inspired the factory to capitalize on the car’s success, a purely road-going version, the 1600 HF Lusso (Luxury) with additional interior appointments and without the lightweight parts manufactured between 1970-1973.  This one really was mass-produced, nearly four thousand were made.

1930 Lancia Omicron with two and a half deck arrangement and a clerestoried upper windscreen.

The Lancia Omicron was a bus chassis produced between 1927-1936; over 600 were built in different wheelbase lengths with both two and three-axle configurations.  Most used Lancia's long-serving, six-cylinder commercial engine but, as early as 1933, some had been equipped with diesel engines which were tested in North Africa where they proved durable and, in the Sudan, Ethiopia, Libya and Algeria, petrol powered Omicron chassis were being re-powered with diesel power-plants from a variety of manufacturers as late as the 1960s.  Typically of bus use, coachbuilders fabricated many different styles of body but, in addition to the usual single and double deck arrangements, the Omicron is noted for a number of two and a half deck models, the third deck configured usually as a first-class compartment but in at least three which operated in Italy, they were advertised as “smoking rooms”, the implication presumably that the rest of the passenger compartment was smoke-free.  History doesn't record if the bus operators were any more successful in enforcing smoking bans than the usual Italian experience.

1928 Lancia Lambda series 7 tipo Siluro Bateaux (torpedo) "Casaro".

One of the most innovative designs of the 1920s, the Lamba was produced between 1922-1931 and was the first car to enter volume production using a stressed, unitary body.  It featured very effective four-wheel brakes (something surprisingly rare at the time) and independent front suspension, the competence of which was such that it was able to more than match the point-to-point performance of many cars much more powerful but with more brutishly simple chassis.  However, because it was so attractive, demand much exceed Lancia’s capacity to build sufficient numbers and the factory was forced to offer a model with a conventional chassis so coachbuilders could provide bodies to fill the supply gap.  All Lambdas were powered by advanced and compact narrow-angle aluminum overhead camshaft V4 engines between 2.1-2.6 litres and over eleven thousand were built.

Flounce & Ruffle

Flounce (pronounced flouns)

(1) To go with impatient or impetuous, exaggerated movements.

(2) To throw the body about spasmodically; flounder.

(3) An act or instance of flouncing; a flouncing movement.

(4) A strip of material gathered or pleated and attached at one edge, with the other edge left loose or hanging: used for trimming, as on the edge of a skirt or sleeve or on a curtain, slipcover etc.

1535–1545: Of obscure and contested origin.  Some sources suggest something akin to words from old dialectal Scandinavian forms such as the Norwegian flunsa (to hurry) or the Swedish flunsa (to plunge; to splash) but the first record of these is two centuries after the English is first documented.  Thus more preferred is a derivation of the obsolete Old French frounce (wrinkle), from the Germanic froncir (to wrinkle) and the eventual spelling in English was probably influenced by bounce.  Notions of "anger, impatience" began to adhere to the word during the eighteenth century although, as a noun of motion, use dates from the 1580s.  The use to describe “an ornamental gathered ruffle sewn to a garment by its top edge” (a kind of ruffle) was first noted in 1713, from the fourteenth century Middle English frounce (pleat, wrinkle, fold) from the Old French fronce & frounce (line, wrinkle; pucker, crease, fold) from the Frankish hrunkjan (to wrinkle), ultimately derived from the Proto-Germanic hrunk.  The plural is flounces.

Ruffle (pronounced ruhf-uhl)

(1) To destroy the smoothness or evenness of; to produce waves or undulations.

(2) In avian behaviour, for a bird to erect the feathers, usually to convey threat, defiance etc.

(3) To disturb, vex, or irritate; disturbance or vexation; annoyance; irritation; a disturbed state of mind; perturbation.

(4) Rapidly to turn the pages of a book.

(5) In the handling of playing cards, rapidly to pass cards through the fingers while shuffling.

(6) In tailoring, to draw up cloth, lace etc, into a ruffle by gathering along one edge.

(7) In military music, in the field of percussion, the low, continuous vibrating beating of a drum, quieter than a roll (also called a ruff).

(8) To behave riotously; an arrogantly display; a swagger (obsolete).

(9) In zoology, the connected series of large egg capsules, or oothecae, of several species of American marine gastropods of the genus Fulgur.

1250-1300: From Middle English ruffelen, possibly from the Old Norse hruffa & hrufla (to graze, scratch) or the Middle Low German ruffelen (to wrinkle, curl) but beyond that the origin is unknown.  It was related to the Middle Dutch ruyffelen and the German & Low German ruffeln.  The meaning "disarrange" (hair or feathers) dates from the late fifteenth century; the sense of "annoy, distract" is from the 1650s.  As one could become ruffled, so too one be unruffled, that adjectival form dating from the 1650s.  The literal meaning, in reference to feathers, leaves and such was first recorded in 1816.

The use in dressmaking to describe “an ornamental frill" is attested from 1707, derived from the verb ruffle.  Related stylistically to the ruffle is the ruff in the sense of the large, stiffly starched collar especially common in the seventeenth century, a style which dated from the 1520s; used originally in reference to sleeves, it came to be applied to collars after the 1550s, almost certainly a a shortened form of ruffle which described something physically much bigger.  As applied to playing cards, it’s actually a separate word, dating from the 1580s, from a former game of that name.  In this context, word is from the French roffle, from the early fifteenth century romfle, from the Italian ronfa, possibly a corruption of trionfo (triumph).  The game was popular between 1590-1630.  The now obsolete sense of an arrogant display or swagger is from the fifteenth century and the origin is obscure but may related to some perception of those who wore ruffs or ruffles.  The meaning as used in the percussion section of military bands is from 1715–1725 and may have been imitative of the drum sound.

The verbs (used without object) are ruffled & ruffling, ruffly is an adjective and ruffler a noun.  Synonyms (though sometimes overlapping or inaccurately applied) as applied to fabrics include strip (of fabric), frill, pleat & furbelow.  As applied to the state of mind there’s disarrange, disorder, wrinkle, rumple, disturbance, agitation, commotion, flurry & perturbation.  The plural is ruffles.

Consciously or not, designers can find themselves adding to whatever post-modernism now is.  Whether overlap or irony, when it hard to work out where the ruffle ends and the flounce begins, think of it all as frills.   

Describing various flavors of embellishment, flounce and ruffle have long been used interchangeably but in the narrow technical sense they’ve never been synonymous.  A ruffle is a piece of material gathered, usually at the top, the fullness extending the entire length of the fabric, while a flounce tends to flare, almost always smooth at the top and wider and fuller towards the bottom.  In dressmaking, as in any engineering discipline, terminological exactitude should be encouraged because one would be disappointed to receive ruffles if one really wanted a bit of flounce.  For those for who the distinction seems abstract, all such creations can be regarded as just “frilly” although, even within the industry, there are those who call flounces “circular ruffles”.

Lindsay Lohan in a ruffled dress.

As a general principle, a ruffle is created by the manipulation of a piece of fabric cut in the shape of a rectangle.  Actual geometric precision is not required because depending on the garment and the effect desired, the shape may vary but it will at least tend towards the rectangular.  The technique is to gather the fabric at the top into a smaller area; when this is sewn into a seam line, typically at the waist or neck-line, the pleats created by the gather will fall naturally, the swishing movement inherent in the fullness of the fabric being the ruffle.  The outcome is determined by the fabric’s relationship of width and length and the weight and type of material used.

The first ruffles were probably nothing to do with fashion but merely a layered appendage to protective clothing, usually as a form of water-proofing.  In the decorative sense, although antecedents can be identified in ancient Egyptian art, in their modern form they appeared first in the mid-fifteenth century as attachments to the collars of chemises which, as happens in fashion, grew in shape and complexity into the large and elaborated ruffled constructions associated with Tudor England.  Since, although the flow and flourish has waxed and waned, the ruffle has never really gone away, despite the wishes of those who prefer more austere lines.

Lindsay Lohan in a flounce dress.

The construction of a flounce differs in that the pattern tends always towards the circular, the cut technically the shape of a donut although those both ambitious and skillful can render flounces used both irregular and more complex curves although one often under-appreciated factor in success is the weight and flexibility of the material chosen: the outcome is determined by depth of the curve, the width of the fabric and the weight and type of material used.  For a flounce successfully to work, it needs to “flounce” and the movement can be influenced as much by weight as cut.  It’s the inner edge of the donut which, without any gather, is sewn into the seam while the outside edge of becomes the fullness at the hem, the volume created by virtue of the longer line.  Because the inner edge is so much shorter, there’s not the same need to gather so the results tends to be soft billows of fabric rather than pleats.  The same technique can be used to create a layered effect where the material flares out not at all but instead follow the line of the garment; this is achieved by a cut where the inner edge is much closer in length to the outer so the shape is closer to a crescent. 

There being a geometric limit to the degree of flouncing that can be achieved for the cut alone, it’s possible further to exaggerate the effect with the insertion of a godet (from the Middle French godet, from the Dutch kodde (a piece of cylindrical wood), a wedge-shaped section of fabric which deepens the floating wave at the hem without adding to the bulk gathered at the point of attachment.

The flounced and ruffled neckline: Salma Hayek demonstrates the difference.  Salma Hayek’s fine choice of clutch purses always catches the eye.

Ruffles and flounces are most associated with a wrap which extends around the garment but variations of the shape of the cuts and the techniques of attachment are used whenever something voluminous needs to be attached. Flounced and ruffled necklines and sleeves use the same rectangle versus donut model as the larger interpretations.

Lunch

Lunch (pronounced luhnch)

(1) A light midday meal between breakfast and dinner; luncheon.

(2) Any light meal or snack.

(3) To eat lunch.

(4) In slang, as “out to lunch:, dim, vague, useless ineffectual.

(5) In slang as “lunchy”, old-fashioned; passé; out of style (obsolete).

(6) In slang as “eating their lunch”, outwitting an opponent.

(7) In Caribbean slang (among older folk), mid afternoon tea.

(8) In first-class and test-match cricket, the break in play between the first and second sessions.

(9) In Minnesota, USA, any small meal, especially one eaten at a social gathering.

1580:  It’s never been clear which came first: lunch or luncheon.  Origin of both is thought to lie in a dissimilated variant of nuncheon, the Middle English nonechenche (noon ling meal and drink), equivalent to none (noon) + schench (from the Old English scenc or scencan (to pour out, give drink)), cognate with the Dutch and German schenken.  Apparent unrelated, Old English had nonmete (afternoon meal, literally "noon-meat").  Nonechenche was possibly altered by the northern English dialect lunch (hunk of bread or cheese) from 1590 which may be from lump or the Spanish lonja (slice, literally “loin”).  Because dinner in the sense of the biggest or main meal of the day) could be eaten either at around noon, in the evening or at night, there was a need for a meal to fill the gap between breakfast and dinner.

A montage of a languid Lindsay Lohan lingering over lunch.

The idea of lunch as it’s now understood took a long time to evolve, to “take a lunch” in 1786 is recorded as eating a chunk of something (perhaps evolved from lump), carved sufficiently large to constitute a filling meal and as late as 1817, the US Webster’s Dictionary offered as the only definition of lunch "a large piece of food", a meaning long obsolete and in the 1820s, the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) thought it either “a vulgarism or a fashionable affectation".   Nevertheless, lunch’s intrusion into the language in the nineteenth century does suggest some sort of social change was afoot, either in the type, style or timing of meals or at least the words used to describe them.  Lunch-money was attested from 1868; lunch-time from 1821; lunch hour from 1840 and the lunch-break from 1960.  The slang phrase out to lunch in the sense of “a bit vague, dim, clueless (but some way short of actually insane) was first recorded in recorded 1955, the notion of being "not there" and instead at lunch.

Receptacles in which to store one’s lunch for transport have a history.  The lunch-box is documented from 1864, the lunch-pail from 1891.  Those were descriptive nouns whereas lunch-bucket emerged in the 1990s as an adjective indicating working-class men or values, bucket presumably the best word because it was universally understood in the English-speaking world to an extent pail was not.  Lunch-bag seems never to have become a common form despite being widely used but in the 1970s, the verb brown-bag (and the related brown-bagging) referring to bringing lunch or liquor in a brown paper bag.  A long-time staple of a lunch-pail’s contents, lunch-meat (a processed form of meat-based protein produced in a size which, when sliced, was aligned with the slices of standard loaves of bread and thus convenient for making sandwiches) was first documented in 1931.  The lunch-counter (a long, elevated table or bench where customers eat standing or sitting on high stools) is an 1854 invention of US English.

The possible future of lunch: Grilled jellyfish.

The portmanteau word brunch dates from circa 1890, a British student slang merging of breakfast and lunch, according to the magazine Punch (1 August 1896).  It appeared in 1895 in the defunct Hunter's Weekly, but two years earlier, at the University of Oxford, the students had drawn what must at the time have seemed an important distinction: The combination-meal, when nearer the usual breakfast hour, is "brunch" and, when nearer luncheon, is "blunch".  That’s a linguistic curiosity in that the brunch survived while blunch did not yet the modern understanding of a brunch appears to be something taken closer to the time of lunch than breakfast.  It may be that brunch was just the more pleasingly attractive word, blunch not so well rolling off the tongue.

Several spellings of luncheon were noted in the decades after the 1640s, the now standardised form not widespread until 1706.  Of uncertain origin, in the 1580s was used to describe something like the northern English dialectal lunch (hunk of bread or cheese), though influenced by the Spanish lonja (a slice, literally "loin"), blended with or influenced by nuncheon, from the mid-fourteenth century Middle English nonechenche, (light mid-day meal), from none (noon) + schench (drink), from the Old English scenc, from scencan (pour out).

The possible future of lunch: Fishcakes.

The etymology of all these words is tangled and there are reasons to suspect the similar forms arose independently in different place rather than as forks of anything vaguely lineal, the OED discounting the notion of lunching, which dates from the 1650s, being derived from the verb lunch because that wasn’t to be attested for another century, the OED suggesting there may be some connection (by analogy) with words like truncheon etc to simulate a French origin which is speculative but such things are not unknown in ever class-conscious England.  Whatever the origin, it does seem to have been used to describe an early afternoon meal eaten by those who take dinner at noon.