For the uninitiated, the term is somewhat au courant these days and refers to people (okay, almost always female) who are "not usually in the conversation of being among the hottest of their group, but when mentioned or seen you remember that they are rather attractive."
It could, in my view, have a temporal component as well, describing someone you've seen or perhaps known for a while, who didn't initially strike you as being all that, but one day you look at them and see a certain attractiveness that you didn't notice before. Not really the "homely librarian" type of thing where a new outfit, hair style, and ditching the thick glasses transforms the ugly duckling into a graceful swan; we've all seen that schtick before, it's been the plot line of hundreds, probably thousands, of movies, TV episodes, and romance novels.
Not like the cinematic treatments are all that believeable, of course; you can't just slap a pair of thick glasses on a smokin' hot actress and make her appear plain to anyone blessed with the gift of sight. No, this is more a function of a different, shall we say, perspective of the viewer rather than a different look for the viewee; and it can often take a long time for that perspective to change.
In the case of me and the VW Rabbit, it has taken most of my adult life. But I finally got there.
I honestly never gave the Rabbit/Golf a second look, except perhaps as this odd-looking "hatchback" thingie that I would never, ever Lust over, let alone want to drive and/or own. Even the famed GTI didn't blow my youthful skirt up, weaned as I was on ground-pounding American muscle cars as my performance icons. Nah, that goofy little square-looking front-drive Beetle-wanna-be wasn't my cup of tea and never, I assumed, would be. Oddly enough, however, it wasn't even a Mk1 that first piqued my interest: it was a plain, white four-door late model Golf that used to drive by every morning while I was waiting for the bus. For whatever reason, it began to strike me as a subtly sexy little thing; not supermodel hot, but more, well, sneaky hot. And I began to think "Hey, maybe those old Rabbits weren't too shabby after all. . . ."
When was the last time you saw an AMC Gremlin on the road? And when you saw that Gremlin trundling around, what sort of shape was it in? Speaking personally, outside a car show context I haven't seen a Gremlin in at least a decade, and even back then the Gremlins I saw were hopelessly bedraggled--fade paint, missing glass, blowing smoke, and just generally neglected.
Unfortunately, owners tend not to care for cars they perceive as cheap and disposable, and so they tend not to survive in good condition. As a result, vintage economy and entry-level cars now seem rarer to me than their performance and luxury counterparts. I'd bet, for example, there are many more 1981 Chevrolet Corvettes still around than 1981 Chevrolet Citations, despite Chevrolet manufacturing more than 400K Citations that year compared to 40K Corvettes.
I go through all this to explain just how astonished and pleased I was to find this listing for a pristine 1972 AMC Gremlin that looks for all the world as if it just rolled off the assembly line in Kenosha. The Gremlin inspires strong emotions--for me, affection and even lust--but love it or hate it, it's hard to deny that an original Gremlin in this shape is a rare beast indeed and worth revering.
I'll include more photos after the jump, but since this is an Open Thread, feel free to discuss anything that's on your mind, or engage in your own musings about now-rare cars that were once ubiquitous.
There are at least three levels of family vehicle: 1) Can I run the kids around and do errands in this car? 2) Can I take the kids out to the mountains for a day hike in this car? and 3) Can I run the kids around and do errands in this car and take the kids out to the mountains for a day hike all in the same trip in this car? The All-new 2015 Subaru Outback 3.6R Limited answers every one of these questions with a resounding yes. It's a powerful, nimble, and roomy sport wagon with all the bells and whistles you need to make carting the kids around through the city or into the mountains easy, convenient, and man...FUN.
In my one-week test of the 2015 Nissan Pathfinder Platinum 4X4, I found it a revelation--quick, quiet, smooth, spacious, surprisingly efficient, and thus completely unlike any previous Pathfinder 4X4. This doesn't mean I dislike previous Pathfinders--quite the opposite, actually--but it does mean the current generation is a more radical departure from its predecessors than one might expect. To explain why, we need to step back in time three decades.
When it debuted in 1985, the Nissan Pathfinder quickly established itself as a popular SUV in the classic mold. It shared its square-jawed good looks and toughness with Nissan's Hardbody pickup, and its rough-and-tumble go-anywhere capabilities lived up to its frontiersman name. It had everything you'd expect from a traditional off-roader: body-on-frame construction, rear-wheel drive, part-time 4WD with locking differentials, low-range for really ugly conditions, and, eventually, four doors to handle family hauler duties in a pinch.
This is what SUVs used to be; go-anywhere trucks suitable for both off-road fun and load-hauling utility, with some nascent ability to serve as a family passenger vehicle in a pinch. Blazer, Ramcharger, Trooper, Scout, Cherokee, Bronco, and Pathfinder--in both capabilities and name, these were the vehicular equivalents of a mountaineer setting off on an expedition into pristine but unknown wilderness.
As a case in point, a close friend of mine has owned a maroon first-generation Pathfinder for nearly 20 years now, and it has faithfully carried us to countless trailheads and snow camps, shrugging aside ice and mud, swallowing all of our gear, and towing trailers full of firewood and supplies. That Pathfinder has more than 300,000 miles on it and is still running strong in limited duty. Despite its four doors, however, it has never been a great around-town driver. Sure, it can carry people and cargo, but the compromises forced by its genuine toughness and off-road ability mean it's cramped, noisy, and jouncy compared to, say, a Nissan Maxima from the same time period. An early Pathfinder relegated to in-town duties is like Davy Crockett trying to hold down an office job.
But just as civilization inevitably reaches the frontier, so too has it reached the Pathfinder. As of the 2013 redesign, the tough truck-like body-on-frame construction has given way to a car-like unibody construction. Rear-wheel-drive with part-time 4X4 has been replaced with front-wheel-drive and electronically selectable AWD. The off-road-friendly low range has been replaced by electronic ascent and descent modes. As a result, the new Pathfinder is less well-suited than its predecessors for actually finding paths, but much improved at hauling families comfortably along those paths once found and paved.
"Married... With Children'"s Al Bundy (Ed O'Neill) had it rough. He was a struggling women's shoe salesman, his wife was a couch potato, his daughter was, well... "fast," and as the song goes, his son tried, but just couldn't do it. However, Al could always (Well, usually) rely on one thing... his trusted car, frequently referred to as "The Dodge."
But it turns out that poor Al's car wasn't a Dodge at all. It was, in fact, a 1972 Plymouth Duster. Why, in at least one scene, you can even see the Gold Duster decal on the "Dodge"'s front fender.
The car uses a screwdriver as the ignition key, and music is piped in via a period-correct 8-Track tape player. And in addition to many memories, some going back to his high school glory days, the "Dodge"'s trunk also held Al's collection of "Big 'Uns," a magazine dedicated to the finest of adult male entertainment.
I’ve heard or the 1980s movie Brewster’s Millions, but it was only recently that I’ve watched it. Boy, was I glad I did! Aside from the fact that it was one of the cleverest movies I’ve seen in recent memory, it had the following camera shot:
I just had to pause and laugh. It’s a metaphor to the main protagonist’s political campaign strategy –that ALL of them, himself included, were bad choices- which was genius. The lack of the printscreen’s definition makes the license plates, with all of the candidates’ last names, unreadable. Still funny, though.
That shot was reason enough to hunt the clip down. I’m pretty sure that there are some people out there who wouldn’t consider ANY of the following vehicles on the billboard, or those parked behind it. Regardless if you’re one of them, can you tell said vehicles?
It’s a video printscreen.
I find there's something about a small cheap honest subcompact with a manual shift that's hard not to love. Done properly, basic transportation doesn't have to be an exercise in miserable austerity, and the dollars you save at the gas pump will sweeten the deal no matter what. But what if we took the four-wheels-and-a-motor formula—one that brands like Honda and Mazda have all but perfected—and kicked it up a notch? What if you could dial up power output while keeping fuel economy basically steady or even improving it? What would that look like? Would a three-cylinder motor scare people away, and what if you added turbo, and made a 5-speed manual the only choice for a transmission? With the Fiesta EcoBoost, actually a fuel-savings option package on the middle-of-the-line Fiesta SE, Ford is taking some pretty bold risks. Read on to see how they worked out.
I love being an ‘80s retro nut. I get a thrill of finding stuff related to the decade. It’s the reason why I found out about the track whose music video was used for a successful Carspotters’ Challenge. The beauty of it all is that while making that post, a recommended video listed on the website’s sidebar had a certain Chevrolet pony-car as its icon. I’ve always had a soft spot for those cars, so of course I clicked. Thank goodness that I did, because it was good. Good enough to do another Carspotters’ Challenge video in the same vein as the one featuring the final chase scene of The Driver.
As we join in hot pursuit, what vehicles are we narrowly missing?
I must also ask: was the TV series good? What other TV series would you compare it to?
This is the print advertisement that is supposed to entice Gen-Y/Millennials and me to consider buying a new Honda Civic:
*Turns the other way to the Scion dealer*
We've examined a few commercials before, some in detail worthy of OCD status. We've marvelled at the kitchiness of the slogans, the blending of retro and modern, celebrity endorsements, and the apparent disconnect between the commercial and the reality. We've even examined the social and political ramifications of certain commercials. We love them. We hate them. But which is the best of them?
I submit the following: the first (North American) commercial for the Fiat 500 Abarth, "Seduction" or “You'll Never Forget The First Time You See One”. Not only is it, in this correspondent's humble opinion, one heck of a commercial, but it also nicely embodies the essence of this humble motoring blog:
Maybe you can find ‘em.
Thank You so much, dear readers! Your contributions and input when this post was suggested a while back were well received and appreciated. But we had a couple more blanks to fill, so I've injected my own supplemental nominees for this dubious honor. There aren't really any winners here, except for maybe some great deals on a used car lot if you can find one of these veehickles in superb condition. If.
So now, without any further fuss and in no particular order, here are your (And our) suggestions for
The NEXT Top 10 Worst Cars Of All Time:
Ford Windstar. Ya know 'em, Ya love 'em, Ya can't live without 'em. Well, OK, we can. And we do. Plagued with corrosion and durability issues throughout its production life, the resale value on these is, well... ▼.
Fake engine noise has become one of the auto industry’s dirty little secrets, with automakers from BMW to Volkswagen turning to a sound-boosting bag of tricks. Without them, today’s more fuel-efficient engines would sound far quieter and, automakers worry, seemingly less powerful, potentially pushing buyers away.
Softer-sounding engines are actually a positive symbol of just how far engines and gas economy have progressed. But automakers say they resort to artifice because they understand a key car-buyer paradox: Drivers want all the force and fuel savings of a newer, better engine — but the classic sound of an old gas-guzzler.
Read, as they say, the whole thing.
In your humble correspondent's opinion, when Ford decided to tune the exhaust and pipe in some of the noise to the cabin to give more of that muscle car feel, I was a bit wary, but eventually (mostly) okay with it. It was the actual noise, just redirected a bit. Meh. Whatever.
And putting some sort of noisemaker on super-quiet electrics and hybrids just makes sense; it really is a safety issue.
But a completely digital noise solely for the purpose of driver enhancement? No. Stop it. Stop. It. That's even worse than a fart can on an untuned Honda Civic.
Feel free to vent and agree with me on this one. And anything else.
Being that Truck Lust theme had more to give than expected, it made sense that the Carspotters’ Challenge was to be truck-related. I could’ve just looked up a truck-heavy picture, but a scene used on an Internet music video that I saw a couple of years ago came back to me: the final chase scene from 1978’s cult classic The Driver. In it, we find two drivers-for-hire and their passengers: one drives a hot-rodded 1976 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am, a great period getaway vehicle. The other? A 1973 Chevrolet C-10 pick-up truck -the type of rig that’s highly thought of and has been written about- driven by the movie’s anti-hero.
There’s no shortage of videos showing that particular chase scene. I could’ve taken any of those over the synth-laden one, but chose not to because a) to avoid spoilers if you haven’t watched it, b) avoid any trouble with the violence scenes that come afterwards and c) this is the video that motivated me to watch The Driver, which is one very cool movie, alright.
In case you were wondering, the song is called Highway Knight, from the artist Kick Puncher. The song and artist are just one of the many contemporary examples that follow the retro sounds of 1980’s synth music.
So as the C-10 chases down the Firebird, what else are they avoiding to hit as they barrel down the streets of late-1970’s L.A.?
Form follows function. That pithy little slogan, coined by architect Louis Henry Sullivan over a century ago, sums up the hard core modernist approach to architecture and industrial design: the shape of a thing should be determined solely by what it is intended to do, with little or no allowance for ornamentation.
Sullivan's buildings were not nearly as austere as the slogan suggests, but other modernists took the concept all the way to its logical extreme. Adolf Loos, one of Sullivan's contemporaries, declared that all ornamentation--any ornamentation--is "immoral" and "degenerate," and when it came time to design buildings, he practiced what he preached. Had he lived to see it--he died in 1933--Herr Loos would certainly have approved of the squarish Studebaker prototype compact pickup truck which is our topic for today.
We'll start this week on another pickup-themed note: the potential return of a smaller pickup in Ford's arsenal. Since the Ranger ceased production (at least in North America) the only non-full-sized pickups have been from GM and brethren, Toyota's Tacoma, and Nissan's Frontier. And even these aren't what anyone would consider "compact" or even in the range of "small" except by comparison. In my Truck Lust post I lamented the increasing size of pickups in general and the extinction of true compact pickups like the Ford Courier. Without looking up the numbers, I'd wager a Tacoma is probably about the same size as a full-size F-150/Silverado/etc. from the 1980s and earlier.
Last fall a number of news outlets ran stories about the potential return of Ford's Ranger to their North American lineup, such as this one from USAToday:
[Ford 's truck marketing manager, Dave] Scott says Ford is aiming for a true small pickup, not a midsize such as General Motors' 2015 Chevrolet Colorado and GMC Canyon, which just went on sale, or Toyota Tacoma.
"We're looking at it. We think we could sell a compact truck that's more like the size of the old Ranger, that gets six or eight more miles per gallon (than a full-size truck), is $5,000 or $6,000 less, and that we could build in the U.S. to avoid the tariff on imported trucks," he says.
That tariff is something we here at Car Lust are familiar with. I haven't seen much since then to indicate Ford's plans. As they say, the Ranger now being sold is still in the range of the other mid-size units, and I suspect they may be correct that such a truck would probably steal sales from the F-150 rather than adding to them. Since they went all-aluminum with the F-150 (a pricey change) they can't really afford any diminution in sales.
So what do you think? Is there still a market for a true, small pickup truck? One that would actually make money? What could they use for a base (e.g., a Focus-based unibody platform) or a rebadged import?
As always, feel free to discuss anything else automotive-related. (Ranger photo is from our old post).
This will be kind of a drive-by (pun intended) post; even I will admit that the Star Chief has little to recommend it, barely making it over the rather low bar we here at Car Lust set for automobiles to be "interesting". In fact, the only generation of this car that I really find "interesting" in a Lust-worthy sense is the fifth generation (1961-1964). As regular readers may know, I have some affection for that whole early '60s field of cars and the Star Chief fits the stylistic bill from that period to a T. Even so, it wasn't a spectacular performer or a great looker or a sales superstar or anything like that.
So, um, why write about it then?
I honestly don't know; I just adore it for some reason. I think maybe it's the name: Star Chief. A Star Chief? A Space Indian? That's what I'd always thought it referred to, but looking back it probably had more to do with a Chief of police or something like that. At any rate, it has that sort of Buck Rogers 1950s vibe to the name, as if you were more likely to hop in and take it on a cruise to Mars than to your local drive-in. A car that a 12-year old boy might climb into and pretend he's on a mission from Star Command, where the cigarette lighter fires the photon torpedoes and the turn signals are laser cannons.
Yeah, that's the ticket. . . .