"Cool" is not as easy as it seems
Many carmakers have failed trying to appeal to younger buyers.
The word "cool" is a slang term meaning great, fine or excellent. Automakers can be obsessive when it comes to attaining coolness. It's no easy feat.
Chrysler's
PT Cruiser was supposed to be the next cool car for twentysomethings, yet most PT owners are north of 55.
Honda tried chasing the same demographic with its Element only to experience a similar fate. The lesson learned: One can't manufacture coolness.
Notably, there are some cars that weren't cool when they debuted, but, on the collector circuit, they have emerged as retro-cool. (The first-generation Chrysler Cordoba comes to mind.) The flip side is also true. A DeLorean DMC-12 was uber-cool in 1982 with its stainless steel body and gull-wing doors.
Yet, for a car that served as a time machine in Back to the Future, time hasn't been kind to the DeLorean. These days, the stainless steel coupe looks about as cutting-edge cool as a kitchen sink.
But there's also a unique collection of cars that embody a truly dubious distinction: They weren't cool when they came out, nor are they cool today. Nor will they likely ever be cool.
This has nothing to do with the car being a lemon. A 1974 Triumph TR7 was the perfect car to buy if you were dating a mechanic. Yet, it remains a head turner.
The much maligned Pontiac Aztek doesn't fit the bill as a forever uncool car because it is the automotive equivalent of filmdom's Showgirls -- it is esthetically so bad it's actually good.
Here is a selection of cars wherein there's not enough coolant in the world to make them cool -- then, now and forevermore.
Chevrolet Caprice Classic (1977-1979): Gasp! Turbocharged blandness due to design inspired by a monolith. While there have been numerous mind-numbingly mundane Caprices, the 1977-'79 models deserve special mention given that a V8 wasn't standard. One had to make do with a six-banger generating an appalling 110 horses. No show and no go.
Honda Del Sol (1993-1998): The Honda CRX (1984-1991) boasts a legacy that lives on to this day. What a shame its replacement was the Del Sol, a rare misstep by Honda. The Del Sol had a removable roof, but it wasn't really a convertible. It should have been called the Honda Sybil -- a not-so-cute little coupe with a big identity crisis.
Virtually all Japanese sedans from the '90s: For reasons unknown, Japanese automakers during this decade embraced a "bland is beautiful" mantra. Does anything scream "bor-r-r-ing!" more than, say, a 1993 Toyota Camry or a '95 Honda Accord or a '97 Mazda 626?
Ford Granada (1975): Here's why the Big Three were ripe for the picking when the Japanese began making inroads into North America -- the Ford Granada. A polyester leisure suit on wheels, the Granada was a cheap, garish car that bad guys always seemed to be driving off cliffs in Charles Bronson movies.
Cadillac Cimarron (1982-1988): Everything that was wrong with GM in the 1980s -- laziness, denial, incompetence -- was crystallized by this abomination. Spooked by the sale of small luxury cars from the likes of Mercedes, BMW and Audi, GM decided to take action. GM should have channeled its energy into making a superb small luxury car.
Instead, it pimped a Chevrolet cavalier, had the chutzpah to call it a Cadillac and then further had the audacity to mark it up several thousand dollars. So lethal was the Cimarron to Cadillac's brand equity that it's a minor miracle the luxury division didn't perish.
Ford Excursion (2000-2005): Behold, the inglorious zenith of Detroit's moronic bigger-is-better SUV trend. Ford certainly upped the ante when it built an SUV based on its Super Duty truck platform.
Yet, did anyone really need something bigger than the already obese Ford Expedition, especially since the Excursion can't fit in most garages? Oh, well, the dinosaurs got really huge, too, before they disappeared.
Source:
The StarPhoenix (Saskatoon) 2008