A kaftan or caftan (from Persian خفتان xaftân) is a front-buttoned coat or overdress, usually reaching to the ankles, with long sleeves. It can be made of wool, cashmere, silk, or cotton. It may be worn with a sash.
It is a variant of the robe or tunic, versions of which have been worn by countless cultures around the world, for thousands of years. The kaftan is associated with Islamic or Islamicate cultures. Kaftans were often worn as court robes; the splendor and specific decorations of the kaftan indicated the rank of the wearer. Sovereigns often gave ornate kaftans as a mark of favor.
Despite the Persian origin of the term "kaftan", Persian robes of honor were commonly known as khalat or kelat.
The kaftans worn by the Ottoman sultans are preserved in one of the most splendid collections of Topkapı Palace in Istanbul. Lavishly decorated kaftans were given as rewards to important dignitaries and victorious generals. The decorations—colours, patterns, ribbons, and buttons—indicated the rank of the person to whom they were presented.
Plot
In the early 1960s, Mrs. Mary Whitehouse, a middle-aged school teacher, begins a campaign against what she sees as filth and smut on BBC television and radio. She and a friend start knocking on doors, circulating petitions and organizing rallies. Her nemesis during this time is Sir Hugh Carleton Greene, Director General of the BBC. He thinks she is just an old busybody who has no artistic taste and doesn't represent the mainstream of British society. Throughout his tenure, which lasted several years, he refused to see her or respond to her correspondence. She continued to campaign at what she viewed as unacceptable programming until her death in 2001.
Keywords: 1960s, art-teacher, campaign, campaigning, censorship, character-name-in-title, christian, christian-fundamentalism, conservatism, husband-wife-relationship
David Turner: I've just had a spot of bother in Birmingham - I was ganged-up on by a group of schoolgirls and that demented housewife.::Sir Hugh Carleton Greene: Ah yes, of course. Now what *is* her name? No, don't tell me. Well you know what they say, old chap? Writing well is the best revenge. [he turns to walk away] Though garrotting your enemy with cheesewire runs a close second.
[at breakfast, with his wife and two teenage sons]::Sir Hugh Carleton Greene: Pass the butter.::Elaine Carleton Green: What's the magic word?::Sir Hugh Carleton Greene: Pass the *fucking* butter.
Mary Whitehouse: Oral sex. Have you heard of it?::Ernest Whitehouse: I have.::Mary Whitehouse: Why would anybody want to... I suppose I should feel sorry for the poor souls. I mean if relations are really *so* unsatisfactory that they have to turn to that. It's sad, more than anything.
[Mary Whitehouse has just sent a supposedly obscene script to the Postmaster General who has ordered an episode of Swizzlewick which lampoons her to be pulled mid-way through its broadcast. Sir Hugh is fuming]::Sir Hugh Carleton Greene: Who? Who? I want the traitor flushed out. I want strict controls of all scripts issued to anyone and everyone - anywhere and everywhere. Contrive some memo to that effect.::Miss Tate: Yes, Sir Hugh.::Sir Hugh Carleton Greene: And! And! I am issuing a directive with immediate effect. No-one connected to the Corporation is to have anything whatsoever to do with that woman, either socially or professionally. Though Christ knows why anyone would want to!::Miss Tate: Yes, Sir Hugh. You *do* mean Mrs Whitehouse?::Sir Hugh Carleton Greene: I don't want to hear her name.
Sir Hugh Carleton Greene: The woman wants to censor us, Hill. If she had her way, all we'd show would be Andy bloody Pandy - and she'd stop him climbing into that basket with Looby Loo, let alone Teddy, lest some innocent child be corrupted by the whiff of puppet troilism. And bestiality, I suppose - or *would* it be bestiality with a teddy bear rather than a real bear?
[Mary Whitehouse is appearing on a discussion programme which is about to go on air]::Female Panellist: Mrs Whitehouse, can I just say before the programme starts, that I've followed your campaign right from the beginning.::Mary Whitehouse: Oh yes, dear.::Female Panellist: And I utterly disagree with everything single thing you're doing.::Male Panellist: Hear hear. Freedom of expression is one of the most precious values we have in our society. You seem to have taken it on yourself to speak for people who don't support you in any way whatsoever. You should be ashamed of yourself.::Mary Whitehouse: [sulking] Oh well, we're all here to put our different views.
[at a meeting of her supporters at her house, Mary Whitehouse proposes a name for the organisation]::Mary Whitehouse: We'll call it Clean Up National Television.::[she holds up a placard featuring the name, with the initial letters highlighted]::Ernest Whitehouse: [chuckling] Er, I think you might want to choose a different name, dear.