Haters bust out the Haterade: I mastered your drama back at the College of Creative Studies. My luxury car proposals sported stand up grilles…and why not? The (beautiful-ish) 1990 Lexus LS400 proved an upright grille happily exists on a sleek, masterfully engineered machine. But very talented, well-praised drama queens in the design studio can’t be proven wrong by a talentless schmuck. Even if they get super butthurt when your Lexian-precedent made their grandstanding look like the adolescent ranting of one unfit to judge a grade school art show…

To wit, an extreme argument: The Nissan Cube.

Not that the Cube is remotely as elegant as the original Lexus LS. But unlike the Nissan Juke, the Cube has many logical elements assembled on a boxy body.  The headlights are quite square, but with enough curves to look appealing, not upsetting.  The grille, oversized emblem notwithstanding, looks right: slots and static forms do the job.  The air slot below is another logical element.  Add the lower valence’s strong egg crate grille and you are done.

My only recommendation is to emulate the angular fog lights of the mildly redesigned, 2005 Lincoln Navigator’s fascia.

Imagine the boxy-ish fog lights making more sense with the square-ish elements in the headlights and the slotted grille. This is quite the well-designed piece. Considering the asking price, let’s assume that unique fog lights were never part of the deal.

I wish more non-Cube vehicles had lighting pods this square and logical.  Aside from the side marker lights that bulge out from the body line, these are quite elegant.

And while the lighting pods in the headlight assembly looked square from some angles, note how round they are from this angle!  This is the secret sauce of car design: the perfect balance between soft curves and hard angles.  If the rest of the Cube looked this good, we’d have a stellar machine.

Again, square and round at the same time.  It works, especially adding the depth of the recessed lighting pods in the headlight assembly.  The Nissan Cube is far from an actual cube.  It’s a seriously somewhat complex design.

This is the big problem, or the key selling feature: an upright–yet rounded–A pillar.  It’s jarring.  It’s brutal.  It’s cool and stupid at the same time.  And, after looking at the window sticker, that makes the Cube both cheap and cheerful.

On the plus side: NO DLO FAIL, SON!  Love me some logically beginning glasswork with a distinct lack of plastic triangles.

Pretty clean cowl trim.  A leaf blower will make short work of any debris stuck in these nooks and crannies, probably. Yet, like many vehicles with more concealed wiper arms, the Cube’s goods are somewhat tucked away as to not attract attention.

Unlike the Juke, the Cube has a nice ratio of bumper-to-fender real estate.  The fender does creep into the logical place for the A-pillar: that cutline should be at the base of the windshield, not several inches above.  Too bad about that.

Then again, those 4 spoke wheels are ugly as sin: static and counter-intuitive to the mission of a round element. My design school teachers insisted that 4 spoke wheels are the work of the Devil, and I agree.  Then again, they do take away from the odd A-pillar cut line.

The Cube’s biggest problems are presented here: the wavy door cutline (inappropriately showing a body contour) and a distinctly, overtly round, totally “not cube” B-pillar.

Actually the combo of round elements here (recessed into the sheet metal, much like portholes on a cruise ship) is quite beautiful.The cutline between the doors is super Cube-y rigid.  The window’s DLOs (plural) are round and quite entertaining next to the rest of the package. It’s a delicate balance, balanced.

The problems are elsewhere: and they have an adverse relationship to the B-pillar presented here.  The asymmetric C-pillars (different between Driver’s and Passenger’s side) detract from the quirky anti-Cube design.  You will see it as we progress around the Cube…and I’ll try to make it super memorable for you.

The rounded C-pillar stamping is cute if there wasn’t a gigantic DLO FAIL embodied in a plastic trim…with shockwave ripples casted into the fail.

Of course, this argument hinges on one’s approval of the Cube’s appalling boxy, top-heavy, overtly JDM space-efficient car styling.

I’ll admit that the plastic trim’s ripple effect negates the foolishness of this DLO FAIL, but it’s certainly not enough.  This is horribly ugly.  No doubt, this needs to be a quarter window instead.  Raise the base price by $50 and make it happen, Son.

Or $100. Or whatever: easy credit is flowing like cheap wine once more, just fix it. We can afford it!

So step back and look at the thing: not bad!  The wavy door cut line below the equator is only somewhat upsetting. The big DLO FAIL on the C-pillar is well, still pretty horrible.  But the stylish “I” design present in the B-pillar personifies all that’s right with the Cube: static yet quite dynamic.

And I’m lucky to have both 4-spoke wheels stopped in the same position: they look even more static when double teaming the Cube’s body.

There’s something very right about a vehicle with zero rear overhang.  Maximum space efficiency, just a little bend and stretch at the bottom for a crashworthy(?) bumper. This is a seriously cool piece of shit kit.

Turning the corner, confusion.  The elongated panel between the bumper and the tailgate looks like an afterthought.  While I didn’t have the keys to open and inspect the Cube’s door mechanism, it’s a safe bet there’s some hinge that demands a unique panel.  On a car this cheap, it’s only a mild bummer.

I like how the rear glass emulates the B-pillar’s rounded and recessed glass treatment.  It looks expensive, compared to what you normally see here. (See Scion xB).

The CHMSL gets the job done without overselling, over styling.  Nice. Too bad the rear wiper washer jet pokes out rather cheaply.

I took these pictures last July, so I forgot if this Cube has a backup camera: but this tacked-on thing looks like a backup camera. (Go ahead and Google it, show me up, etc.) On a vehicle this cheap, this is acceptable.  Like Cindy Crawford’s birthmark, it’s just a cute little bump on a cute little curve of sheet metal.

Well maybe not Cindy Crawford cute, but you catch my drift.

I like how this reflector is tucked inside the bumper cover.  It makes a unique plane within the body.  A simple, cheap and often overlooked way to add some texture on an otherwise boring and massive sheet of painted material.

Alright no more teasing: the back-end is head-scratchingly fantastic.  There’s the trim bumper with an elegant, full-width tail light treatment.  Go further up and it’s a tall JDM van-let, except with a flaw: the asymmetrical rear glass treatment.

Honestly, after months of deliberation, I don’t know if this is brilliant or idiotic.  Probably both, since I can’t take my eyes off of it. This isn’t eye-watering like a Pontiac Aztek, it’s just…profoundly interesting.

Something about the full width tail lights makes this design more cohesive and expensive: it makes up for the normally horrid feelings most of us feel about asymmetric design. It’s like Lyle Lovett and Julia Robert’s child, on wheels.

Except the Cube is kinda cute…not this.

More good design: the rear door seamlessly blends into the bumper and quarter panel.  Very trick, and a good use of minimal cut lines to carry out a particular need. Add that unique plane for the reflector light and you have something exciting, and not offensive.

And if the driver’s side of the Cube was the Lyle Lovett, the passenger side is Julia Roberts. RAWR!

Note how the C-pillar is completely encased in glass. And glass equals class.  It makes me wish the other side was this impressive.  Totally worth the extra cost, no matter what it is! (i.e., this isn’t a loss leader Versa, go ahead and ask a little more for being unique.)

Also note how the 4-spoke wheels continue to fight every damn element on the body.

While I’ve mentioned the Cube’s nice use of hard edges and soft forms, the square gas cap needs a good rounding out.  This would help accentuate the “Julia Roberts” C-pillar and it will also match the round negative area behind the door handle.  Shame.

Maybe this DLO (odd fitting black paint between two sheets of glass) isn’t as pretty as Julia Roberts, but this ain’t no Lyle Lovett.  I like how the DLO’s hard edge (Left) and round edge (Right) play with the straight-then-curve demeanor of the rear door’s cutline.  This is just car design cool.

Yes, car design cool.  Offensive? You betcha!  But, aside from the wavy door cutline (just like the driver’s side) that smears reflections (note the Versa’s wheel cover) from an unfortunate curvature, the Nissan Cube is a well-integrated design with moderate attention to detail.

At least on the Julia Roberts side. The Lyle Lovett side?  Not as much.

Thank you for reading, I hope you have a lovely week.

So, to celebrate this series’ First Anniversary: THANK YOU for letting me share my Venom. And know how much I appreciate it when you click that link:

The Nissan Juke is one of those concepts-come-to-life that did the original proud.  If the concept’s truly bizarre styling offended you, well, that’s understandable.  But remember it’s still a well sorted piece of Transportation Design kit.  The six eyes (on the hood, in the bumper, in the lower plastic valence) do offend me…in a good way.

Even though I hate the lighting pods, the multiple grille textures, and the emblem’s “U” chrome surround…I can’t help but admire it. The Juke is just so fantastically well executed.

But still, I could do without the oval grilles on the side.  The Juke is more logical and cohesive with the same “slats” of the grille’s center portion.  Plus, the oval grille casting looks cheaper than the vents in the center.

Much like the curiously placed headlights of the Rolls-Royce Phantom, the Juke uses what would make a fantastic Rally Car fog light for a head light.  Unlike the Roller, the headlight is made to dominate the bumper and grille.  It’s vulgar and beautiful at the same time.

If only the grille had the same texture: the strong linear elements of a “non-ovoid” grill would let you enjoy both the grille and the headlight far easier, with less distraction.

The swept back, lumpy and bumpy signal/marker light?  Pretty insect-like hideous, though I suspect (much like the LEAF) its shape is dictated by the wind tunnel for less wind noise around the A-pillar.  I’d prefer if this lamp assembly was flush-mounted above the grille, matching the linear tone of the center portion of the grille.  Then the Juke would look like a tall (yet right sized) Chevy Camaro. Distraction: gone!

But again, I hate yet wholly admire this element at the same time.  Argh, nothing is ever easy!

Present in the original concept, these round forms made production.  They work, unlike the ovals that dominate the grille.  And looky here: those be the real fog lights, too!

Perhaps if these were the only set of “eyes” on the front end, but since there’s another set of headlights and foglights…no. Too polarizing.

Except polarizing is often a good thing.  Especially when it comes to the Juke.

The windshield/cowl/wiper trim is very well executed: clean and elegantly tucked under the painted hood.  That’s the perk of a vehicle with a retro-sized windscreen, I suppose.

What did I say about a retro-sized windscreen?  Apparently the people who made the roof expected it to go up further: the glass’ natural end point is where the A-pillar turns into a flat roof,  instead we get a “bendy” roof.  Which is truly odd.

Speaking of, the bumper-to-fender crease isn’t especially logical. This is an unfortunate by-product of making a radical concept car come to life, cost effectively.  My suggestion?

Perhaps if that crease started at the trailing edge of the grille instead of some random point at the light.  The hood-to-fender has a similar problem: it should start from the top of the light assembly and end at the base of the A-pillar.

Why did Nissan make the least flowing, smallest possible fender?  Cost effectiveness, insurance repair concerns…or both. Sad.

If the fender was allowed more real estate on this form, the Juke would be a far prettier vehicle.  Or perhaps it’s just best in a panel-hiding black.  No matter, look at those fender haunches, front and rear!  What a quirky and fun design!

(That you must love even if you hate it.)

Note the lack of a black plastic triangle aimed to lengthen the greenhouse (DLO FAIL) on the Juke.  This rig is happy being in the dimensions bestowed upon it.  But while the fender was shrunken elsewhere, it creeps up the A-pillar?  I’d prefer if that fender-to-A pillar seam began at the base of the DLO…

The window weatherstrip smeared over the B-pillar is impossible not to fiddle with.  Good thing I didn’t have an X-ACTO knife handy.

Short wheelbase.  Impossibly short overhangs at each corner. Tall roof that immediately sweeps down. Oversized wheel flares.  Volvo like hatchback design. This rig is just plain cool, even if you’d never buy it. Or would you?

That “slopey” roof just does it for me.  What a fantastic design element!!!

I’ve enjoyed door handles blended into a vehicle’s greenhouse ever since the introduction of the GM-10 Coupes, even if they are magnets for scratches in a super visible place.  Combined with the little black plastic triangle of DLO FAIL in the C-pillar, perhaps it doesn’t work here.  I’d suggest eliminating the DLO fail and making the rear door end in a voluptuous curve instead.  There’s no need for a curvy triangle of FAIL if the door was rounded from the git-go.

While it’s always important to have a blend of hard bends and soft contours, the mix here is off.  Round off the door to match the “thrusting arch” of the wheel wells, eliminate the DLO FAIL and call it a day.

Can you imagine this body if the rear door ended with something as round as these fender haunches?

Here’s a close up of the DLO FAIL so you can imagine a rounded rear door that could eliminate this.

The rounded curves (and inward bending of the body) adds a bit of needed surface tension to the Juke’s very tall profile.  Note the wave in the cutline between the doors.  If that “wave” wasn’t there, this would be a boring panel.

Speaking of waves, the tail lights are a fantastic piece of kinetic lighting art.  Maybe the rear door’s redesigned curve should be just as radical as the lights.  Oh, and replace the dumpy square gas filler door with something as round as the back up lights, please? The natural curve of the tailgate and fender haunches demands something less static.

I wonder if it’s the same filler door as the Nissan Cube. Hmm…

Is this a Volvo or a Nissan?  No matter, this huge slice of non-functional red lense does something I thought I’d never say: be an important design element that looks better than if the same real estate was painted body color.

To my earlier point about having a blend of hard bends and soft contours, the Juke’s rear lights embody that belief.  There’s so much surface tension presented here!  And the way it naturally flows into the rear haunches?  Close to perfect for such a small vehicle.

Note the odd lump at the top of the roof, where it meets with the hatchback.  Considering the downward sloping roof and rather tiny rear dimensions, I suspect these “external” hinge covers are necessary.  It’s much like the bubbly roof on a Dodge Viper GTS, except the Juke didn’t make it into a noteworthy highlight.  If only it had more “oval” like qualities, like the front lower bumper valance, perhaps.

While I usually like clean and minimalist rear window wiper arms, the Juke demands something more garish and over-styled.  Too bad about that.

Tacky rear mud flaps are tacky.  Boo for the lack of integration.

The gray Juke was backed up against a brick wall, so its white neighbor will do.  While very Volvo-like, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  Note how the lighting pods add excitement to the body, while complimenting the curves and cutlines: the hatchback cutline doesn’t look out of place…even if it sorta is. I’m even digging the oversized license plate mustache with the Nissan logo.  While the mustache has been done to the point of death elsewhere, it looks good on the Juke.

If only the front end’s lighting pods were as logical as the rear. Then again, the Nissan Juke is impossible to miss, and easy to appreciate. While it may never grace your parking space, it deserves your respect.

The Juke is a nice piece of Vellum, that made production without much Venom. Thank you for reading, I hope you have a wonderful week.

Did you see an instant classic at last week’s Detroit Auto Show?  Maybe that new Stingray. And hearing that the first C7 Vette was on the auction block to support the College for Creative Studies made me a little proud of my former school, too.  But, aside from the always nerve-racking bus ride between CCS and Cobo Hall, my “instant classic” moment from the (1999) NAIAS was the introduction of the MK IV Jetta.  All of a sudden I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Jettas, especially a silver one in the lower hall of Cobo. And time hasn’t changed my opinion…aside from making it more extreme.

14 years later, the MK IV Jetta is still the best looking of the breed.  I sampled this from our old friend Captain Mike Solo, who apparently has a thing for VAG products.   Driving this Jetta around made me feel far superior to the current (MK VI) Jetta, and like a God among Men compared to the MK V. Just park one of these next to one of those.

How many cut lines do you see?  Not many. Because so many cut lines originate from the headlights and most are parallel to the strong grille lines, there might as well be none.  Well, at least compared to so many busy designs from the past 20 years.

The MK IV Jetta has a certain “1970s-80s clean wedge” theme about it…without being a boring wedge. Utilizing “modern” plastic casting technology for the bumpers and headlights, there is the ability to add a flair of curves and circles not seen back then.  But real subtle, never showy. This is perhaps the best of both worlds: a specific design aesthetic adapted to make a new look for a new era.

Note how the base of the headlight sweeps upward, complementing the shape of the bumper, forming the beginning of the fenders and the end of the hood’s horizontal cut line.  The “J” theme presented here is certainly the most distinctive element of the MK IV Jetta.  And damn, it’s so frickin’ beautiful.

Transposed “J” theme.  The body color grille doesn’t take away from the theme, and the power bulge in the hood is a natural extension: filling out the “shelf” of the bumper in the center. There’s another important design concept presented here: surface tension.  Never flabby or overwrought, the Jetta has acres of surface tension in its mid-sized body.

I like round headlight themes confined to square-ish headlights.  It adds excitement, without making a front end look like some sort of goofy creature with roundish, amoeba-ish eyes.  If it had the MK V’s cool VW logo in the headlight’s reflector cap, it would make the MK V Corolla Jetta a wholly extraneous design in the history of the Jetta.  Well, maybe not.

I never liked the emblem butting into the hood’s cut line.  I always wanted it straight up there, doing that with the bumper instead.  This looks like a wart, while my suggestion would be cute and cheeky.  But VW certainly doesn’t agree: this theme continued into the next two generations.  Oh well, can’t win ‘em all. Or any of them.

What do you think of the hood’s little circle of discontent? But the grille slats are very Mercedes SL like. Which is cool.

The strong parallel lines are most obvious down below. But even more surprising, the grilles look surprisingly multi-layered and expensive.  Not like the cheapy one piece units found on many cheap sedans…or the fog light assembly of the Cadillac CTS-V coupe.

The clean lines continue all the way to the front wheel. I like how the flat black lower trim visually thins the bumper.

The clean, parallel rub strip incorporates a marker light that bends and ends as a perfect compliment to the rub strip. Clean.

The “J” theme looks fantastic as you walk around the fender.  While Saturn already did this with the 1996 SL, the bumper’s cut line and gap size makes this a far nicer implementation.  And Ford aped this with their 2005 Focus…and failed.  The Jetta’s tight panel gaps and bullet like shaping trumps ‘em both.

Acres of surface tension on the hood. Note the warpage of the building’s reflection on the domed hood.  Combined with the neatly tucked away plastic cowl trim, this is such a beautifully modern and minimal design.

The base wheels are a snooze, especially how the plump spokes meet the rim.  The double-5 spoke 17″ wheels available from this era (on the VR6 model?) really added punch to the entire design.

The complex reflector design of the side marker light is hip and Euro: no wonder so many moderately aspirational people (i.e. Sorority Girls) flocked to the design.

This quirky mirror mount proves the Germans have a good sense of humor.  Not that I am laughing, I merely applaud a good zinger within a subtle statement.  Well done.

Functional and nicely tucked away door handles.  The negative area doesn’t try to impart a sense of style, it just does the job.  Which is beautiful in itself.

Wrap around door pillars need to make a comeback, even if they are harder to seal or assemble…or something.  With it, the fender, hood and A-pillar blend seamlessly (well, except for the two modest cut lines) into a green house with no non-functional plastic triangle of DLO FAIL. (daylight opening) Instead of the FAIL, there’s a cute little footprint for a sleek side view mirror. While the newest Jetta is by no means hideous from this angle, it isn’t this beautiful.

This car is a modern classic, people.  Stop and stare at one soon.

While this shot exaggerates the size of the greenhouse, there’s so much unfettered space here.  It’s delightful considering the submarine stance of most new sedans, even the latest Jetta.

Such a clean and strong B-pillar. The canted cut line looks both fast and solid at the same time.  And while newer Jettas try to hide this pillar with blackout trim, the MK IV makes it a significant styling statement.  It’s refreshing, because it doesn’t look cheap…even if it is.

Sometimes less is more…see???

The fixed rear window is necessary on the rear door, but VW wisely made the black trim hiding the runner (for the not-fixed window) as small as possible.  Apparently it needs to be a touch wider at the bottom.  Instead of fattening up the whole part, there’s a clever line added to keep your eyes on the slim and tall part, not the fatter part at the bottom.  It works, even though I have mixed feelings about that line…maybe the runner would look slender enough without it.

That’s a lot of glass.  And there’s no fake window/black plastic triangle giving the illusion that the Jetta is sleeker.  Instead, a big ass fixed window.  It looks fantastic.  Any day without the triangle of DLO FAIL is a good day.

I adore a rear door (get it?) that wraps up and over the area above the wheel arch.  It looks curvy, like the hip of a beautiful woman.  Problem is, it makes for a gigantic fixed window (or aforementioned DLO FAIL) as the moving window can’t roll down into the tire. And some people think this design makes it difficult to get in/out of a car.

I beg to differ.  While this vintage Jetta’s door is smaller than the “less sleek door” of the current model, one must remember to aim their head for the center of the interior, even if there’s a temptation to slide towards the back?  And the door makes for a good weapon, as it’s far “pointier” than a blocky door. Which isn’t a problem on the new model, but it’s also stodgy…and this is sleek.

This is just a gorgeous family sedan.  Perfect front-wheel drive proportioning and enough space for 5 non-American adults. Every line in its place, simple and pure.  Also note the low belt line where the glass and sheet metal meet.  This means that visibility is quite good in the Jetta…even with that tall and blocky butt.

Even the door molding is thin and sleek.  More parallel lines to boot.  Just a pretty design!

As mentioned two pictures ago, the green house is low and provides fantastic views of your world.  It’s in stark contrast to the short and fast rear window, which is commonplace in today’s vehicles.  This dichotomy is a blend of past and present.  It’s a fantastic transition, I believe it shows the evolution of passenger car design.  And, for the love of all that’s right with car design, it needs to come back to we can have our visibility again!

More clean cut lines around back, and there’s something unique about the tail light texture.  More on that later.

While everything is sleek and rakish elsewhere, the Jetta’s rear is tall and blocky.  Not a bad thing, if you actually use a sedan to carry people and their crap. There is still, like the front end, plenty of surface tension on this boxy butt: the crease above the license plate, the gentle curves of the bumper and the top of the trunk.  And, as always, the normal looking rub strip on the bumper is much appreciated.  Two things are still outstanding: the tail lights…and something else? Yup, the lack of a flashy tail pipe.  Who cares about pipes on a family sedan with such nice lines?  Much like the butt of the (C4) 1984 Corvette, the turn-down pipes make the exhaust essentially invisible to the casual observer, which is very cool for some designs.  Designs with C4 or MK IV Jetta levels of cleanliness deserve turn-down exhausts.

The extra trunk line (of surface tension) starts logically where the signal lights (within the entire lighting cluster) end.  There is plenty of tumblehome in the roofline, making the Jetta’s body look quite sleek for a small-ish sedan.

The MK IV’s trademark rooftop whip antenna is adorable and annoying at the same time.  Like Mr. T’s mohawk, this is an authoritative statement that also leaves the body sides uncluttered. According to the Wikipedia article on this car, there are aerodynamic advantages here too.  Which makes sense, even if I dropped out of Fluid Dynamics in college…to pursue a car design degree at CCS.  Oh boy, let’s move on to a new subject.

Okay, here’s the big thing about the taillights.  As Capt. Mike mentioned, VW went waaay out of their way to blend all the lighting elements into one form.  The yellow signal lights?  They are striped with red bands. The back up lights?  Tinted a purple-ish color.  Added to this car’s red paint, and the lenses are essentially invisible.

Which is so damn cool.  And musta cost a pretty penny too.  Too bad these tail lights didn’t make it to term with the rest of the MK IV Jetta: the clear bits added to the later lenses are likely a cost-cutting measure masked as a “product redesign.”  Or maybe I’m too much of a cynic.  Whatever.

Another cool detail: dat trunk lock cylinder.  Not resorting to an expensive sliding cover, the MK IV Jetta simply slides the lock within a perfectly sized Vee-Dub logo with black paint in the negative areas.  Damn son…THAT IS SHARP.

While not the MK IV Jetta’s finishing touch, the gas cap is a good ending to this article.  It has a logical location and remains relatively flat (not smeared on a fender flare) and purely functional.  Good design never dies, it only gets better.

The sad reality is these Jettas are far from good cars as they age: expensive and difficult to repair when fully depreciated. And now I see far too many of them in the junkyard.  Which saddens me, much like my shattered dreams as a CCS student dreaming of his career at the NAIAS many moons ago.  But that’s life, and that’s Vellum Venom.

Thank you for reading, I hope you have a wonderful week.

Under the lenses of a design student born in the 1970s, a Ferrari of this vintage has no reference point or historical attraction.  Well, at least not a good one: I absolutely adore the 250 GTO after I purchased the 1:18th scale Bburago model when I was a child. Compared to the long, low and mean 250 GTO built solely for race homologation, the 275 GTB looks cute, soft and distinctly Miata like.

Is comparing the 275 GTB to the 250 GTO a fool’s errand?  Perhaps. 

It needs to lose a good 20 lbs in the face. The headlight buckets are too big for the lights themselves.  The fenders are fat with no toned muscles underneath. Worst of all, the transition from front fascia, hood, hood bulge, and fenders lack definition stemming from toned, muscular stampings.  What you see here is just plain fat.

No flab and lack of definition here.  The egg crate grille that’s a Ferrari hallmark looks mighty tasty from here.  Nicely sunken in with a deep chrome lip around it.  The craftsmanship is stunning in person. Plus, exposed mechanical bits are cool.  I’m digging the easy-access radiator cap, but I trying it is probably a bad idea at a Fezza dealership.

The 275′s overt roundness isn’t so obvious when you focus on the middle, without the headlights and the fenders.  But even here, compared to the 250, the hood has round cut lines that accentuate the chubbiness.  With so many round lines, the square hood mohawk in the center has no complimentary forms to blend with.  This one bit of toned muscle needs some “friends” on the rest of the 275′s face.

While there’s too much round elsewhere, the very bulbous windscreen is a work of art.  Visibility must be pretty fantastic inside there.

See how the toned and “muscular” roundness of the headlight itself makes no sense in the fat, amorphic blob of its oval case?  Yes, things like this keep me awake at night.

Well it looks better from this angle.  But still, if the middle of this oval was sucked in a touch like duckface on some chick’s profile pic on twitter, the Ferrari would look much longer, lower and sexier.  Not that duckface is sexy…

And yes, the 275 GTB has a lot of length to promote.  Why not suck the lense in to highlight this car’s fantastic proportions?  This isn’t a CUV that needs to mask all its heft with eye-catching headlight amoebas!

I once said “a Ferrari is whatever the hell Pininfarina says it is” in my Testarossa review…now watch me back pedal.

Perhaps not everything is fat and/or chubby on the 275.  The thin, delicate space between the headlight and chrome wisp of bumper is very elegant.  And taut.  Muscular, with the frenched-in signal light.  How lovely!

The fender starts to look a little plump here, but that teardrop-shaped turn signal is absolutely fantastic.  Considering this is the perfect aerodynamic shape found in nature, why don’t we have more side marker lights looking like this? The imagery, complete with that delicate chrome foundation, is fantastic.

The 275′s round and chunky face translates into a rather tall and blocky side profile.  Is it possible to have too much dash-to-axle ratio (i.e. that space between the front wheel and the A-pillar) when the fender tops are so high off the ground? Compounding the problem is that insanely laid back, thin and fast A-pillar. The roof doesn’t match the fender’s proportions.

I suspect that mere millimeters separate the heights/curves of the 275 to the 250 GTO (and the Jaguar E-Type) it only takes a few subtle changes in dimensions to turn a sexy sports car into a chubby wannabe.  The 275 is unquestionably cute, and certainly an excellent Ferrari. But I still long for more…perhaps Chris Bangle needs to flame surface this to add some excitement and thin down the bulk?

On the plus side, peep that massive stretch between the beginning of the door and the beginning of the A-pillar. It’s grotesquely unnecessary, and I like that.  If only the glass to body ratio was a little better: the door is super tall, round and massive: not a proto-Chrysler 300 by any stretch, but it’s too much red paint and not enough glass.

To my point about paint vs. glass, imagine how sexy the 275 could be if the red paint below was 1-2″ shorter in height? Course, that would probably be the Ferrari 250 LM.  So that’s already been done. And this isn’t exactly a race car, even if it’s trying to look like one.

Look at those massive sidewalls! How I long for the day when we can have a little more rubber…not this much, but you see my point.

This 275 didn’t come with the wire wheels, which is a bit of a shame.  I’ll assume these rims are a lightweight alloy casting far superior to the wires, but they look like the dumpy steelies on a 1980′s econobox.  Do you think these wheels aged well over time?

The Ferrari hub is certainly cool, even if it looks out-of-place on a wheel you’d expect on a Hyundai Excel. I admit this critique is unfair to the era of this vehicle’s engineering, but hey, history can be cruel. And people write on blogs for a reason…probably.

There’s something universally perfect about this A-pillar shot here.  It could be an older Ferrari, or an early Porsche 911…or maybe a the beginnings of the Ford Mustang?  Read on…

Oh yes!  The other side of the door shows a bit of why the 1965 Ford Mustang fastback is such a hot commodity: Ferrari’s classic styling makes for the Perfect Pony Car.  Not to take away from the beauty pictured above, just adding a little context into why this is beautiful.  And why you like it.

Because, without a doubt, this is a gorgeous greenhouse.  The tumblehome, the inward taper of the glass as it nears the “B” pillar, the body’s “hip” below the B-pillar, the scoops, and the eyebrow of the rain gutter is timeless, priceless.

Maybe the rain gutter is a bit too angular and ends rather abruptly.  It should follow the edge of the glass like that Fastback Mustang.

Yup, this is the real reason “we” love Fastback Mustangs. See how the round curves below logically extend into a taut, fit B-pillar that’s so faaaaast?  And just to keep the pillar from being flat and dull, there are three vent cut outs to add some excitement.  Is the excitement necessary?  Perhaps its a bit much.

Round curves and taut straight lines in perfect harmony.  If only the front fenders, hood and fascia had this magic blend of perfection.  As a bonus, the 275 looks much shorter/sleeker from this angle!

Oh yeah! Flat and muscular merges with fat (PHAT?) and curvy so perfectly.  The rear wheel arches just add to the sexiness as the B-pillar extends waaaay back here.

I love the sleek, pure yet functional design of these trunk hinges.

Oh wow, it even has a rear window defogger!

The trunk sports a logical cut line, ending at the base of the dovetail spoiler. The thin, body-hugging chrome bumper looks more than integral with the design: it looks necessary.  Add the period correct tailpipes and the 275 looks mighty smart from this angle.

Doesn’t the bright work say it all?  The nicely chiseled butt, slick spoiler (eat your heart out, 1970s Camaro) and unadorned rear sheet metal is pure Italian design goodness.

Is this too boring?  Maybe more tail lights would help, but then it’d look more like a Corvette.  Add a license plate and call it done: this is a pretty posterior.

The reflector pattern in the stop/signal lights is pretty 1960s groovy.  Compare that to the loony CGI inspired designs of modern lights and we see how design changes with technology over time.

And the license plate lights are a neat bit of kit.  They look far better on the bumper than as warts on the rear end.

Too bad this isn’t a one piece bumper!  But if you have to go multiple parts, the fit and finish of the 275′s bumper is very well executed.

But why fall in love with the 275 GTB when you can gawk at her hotter, more mature sister called 250 GTO? Okay, I know this is unfair to the 275 for several reasons, but just look at this beast!

Thanks for reading, have a very Merry Christmas.

Again…ever since the Mitsubishi Diamante face of the Lincoln LS, that is.  Let’s get this over with.

Like most all new Lincolns, the MKX has way too much width in the grille and not enough in the painted bumper and/or the lighting pods. While the strong center Mohawk hood crease, slender headlights and cohesive chrome valence (lower bumper treatment) look clean and logical enough, the face isn’t friendly to the CUV’s gigantic real estate.  The original Aviator/MKX design looked JFK-sleek and off-road friendly at the same time: it was pudgy like a proper CUV (so to speak) and had enough brand recognition bling to make it work.

BTW: if you’re upset that I kept dealership’s advertising present, don’t worry: Southwest Lincoln (Mercury) closed this year after being in business since 1966.  Owned by the same person that owned the Houston Oilers, “SWLM” was a fixture in Southwest Houston.  But it, much like the Lincoln brand AND the Houston Oilers, was left for scrap.  At least the Houston Texans don’t suck this season. But I digress.

Another reason why big grilles are a bad, bad idea: they cannot be functional.  When 30+% of the krill-filtering teeth don’t even feed this whale, the designers at Lincoln completely screwed up. This looks Tupperware Pontiac Grand Prix cheap. I wonder how the new MKZ will fare from this angle.

Which is a shame, because the intersection of so many fast lines looks absolutely fantastic up close.  If only this was on something Lincoln Town Car sized, especially in the height department.

Too bad I knelt to look at that valence.  The chrome is fine, but the oversized black trimming around the fog light is a poor (literally) way to integrate a round element into the chrome rhombus-thingie.  And there’s ANOTHER solid plastic grille…why? Attention to detail: not present.

Then again…imagine this pointy profile on a Mustang chassis!  Oh my, I’m feelin’ a little faint!

Another problem with the MKX’s redesign: round fenders on a blocky body, complete with a round crease above the wheel that has to meet up with the original’s hard and straight line from the door and back to the end of the body.  Much like a child hammering a round peg in a square hole, the designers are trying to take Lincoln’s latest design direction on the angular wedge that is the Ford Edge.  It isn’t called an “Edge” for no reason, Son!

Here’s a close up of the round element trying to seamlessly blend into the straight line crease of the Ford Edge.  It’s hideously flabby in its undefined and timid execution, looking like a mistake from this angle. But this is no mistake. Neither is the MKX’s fake fender vent appliqué in the shape of the Continental Star.  And there’s a wonderful black plastic triangle of DLO FAIL with chrome trimming up top, but more on that in the next photo.

The fender extends into logical places for both the door and the A-pillar. And because it does, there’s that black plastic DLO FAIL triangle, trying its best to make the MKX appear sleeker/longer/faster than it is…or ever could be.  I doubt the MKX was ever a credible sales threat to the Lexus RX, and here’s one reason why: the RX is so much prettier with more glass and none of the DLO FAIL.

At least this side marker light in the mirror housing looks pretty trick.  I wonder if they’d fit on a Lincoln Town Car, I’m sure they’d love to “escape” the MKX (get it?) for a proper Lincoln.

Lincoln’s signature keyless entry pad is a slapped on afterthought-like on the MKX, since this is an older design that was heavily based on the Ford Edge.  While this was acceptable in the 1980s with the fox body Lincoln Mark VII, it’s still a shame: the fox body Lincoln Continental had the keypad mounted flush with the aluminum trim around the base of the window. So while we love to complain about Lincoln’s current problems, they’ve been battling this since at least the 1980s.  Too bad about that.

Well, at least the detailing on the panoramic roof is pretty cool.  I like this lip spoiler looking thing…the entire roof panel of the MKX looks pretty sleek.

We used to live on the Edge, until someone heated the MKX’s front fascia and lightly smashed it into a brick wall.  The front end’s ripple makes absolutely no sense with the other 3/4′s of the MKX’s body.  This CUV is another tragic victim of Lincoln’s inability to stick with a design theme.  Or make a cohesive theme.  Or perhaps both.

But the wheels (photographed on another MKX on the lot) are pretty tasty.  Lincoln’s had a bad habit of writing “LINCOLN” in huge lettering around the hubcap, not present here.  I guess nobody’s gonna mistake this one for a Honda, so the letters got the boot.

Even worse, they ruined the original MKX’s taillight treatment too!  Sporting a proper full-width treatment that was impossible to mistake at night, the MKX used to be a catchy design.  With these two amoebas on the tailgate, all that brand equity was flushed down the toilet.  For what reason? The MKT has the same goofy nose with a somewhat sane full-width taillight…why on earth can’t the MKX have the same thing, too?

The new reflector treatment is certainly catchier than the last one.  If only the outgoing model’s dimensionally correct tail light had these inside instead. It would be a logical and proper upgrade for the Lincoln brand.  It would signify the product renaissance Ford says is right around the corner.  Instead, they blanded up the rear end, generic to death.  But at least the chrome inside them is sweet!

Nice afterthought backup camera. Instead of integrating/hiding this in some other element like so many other luxury vehicles, Lincoln seemingly had no choice but to make a new plastic part, slap a logo and a camera in it. I think a camera integrated into the FULL WIDTH TAIL LIGHT of the original MKX would be pretty nice.

How is this a Lincoln?  More chrome than the outgoing MKX? This new tailgate is, without question, a huge step backward for the brand.

Where did it all go wrong?  While I love my Mark VIII, it’s far from a perfect design, and didn’t sell terribly well.  Could Lincoln’s fear of getting stagnant be the reason why we are in our current MK-Hell? I doubt it.  While the personal luxury coupe market dried up in the 1990s, I still get compliments on what a “Great New Lincoln that must be to own!” For real. In my dentist’s parking lot last year, to be precise.

Wanna know the funny part? Comments like that turn my car into a Halo Vehicle in consideration of new Lincoln vehicles in this town.  A Dodge Viper with a fake spare tire hump. Believe that.

And why the hell not? From that long, sleek nose to the short and low rear deck with integral Continental kit, the Mark VIII paid homage to Edsel Ford’s original Continental coupe while still looking like a new car. Is there a lesson to be learned here?

Thanks for reading, you have a fantastic week!

The 8th generation Civic’s bumpers had a flat and clean, 1970s People Mover vibe to it. Radical yes, but not offensive. The 9th Gen’s redesign added lumps and bumps to the bumper, with the aesthetic pleasure of a pear-shaped silhouette. Adding insult to injury, all the folds and unique planes on the bumper’s face. This nose doesn’t work on a body this tall and, um, People Mover like.

The pear shape isn’t obvious from this angle.  Aside from the blocky-cheapness of the grille (even in fancy Hybrid trim), the Civic looks okay from here.  A perfectly flat nose (without the high point for the license plate) woulda been nicer, however.

This is a good time to mention that I gladly put my fingers in strange holes for TTAC’s readership. And, that solid casting behind the logo looks even cheaper in real life.  Shouldn’t Hybrids have a flat, solid badge for better aerodynamics?

This blue strip of Hybrid Snobbery is kinda cool.  First green was marketed for unique Hybrid markings, now blue. Which any luck, we will see more brown hues taking over in the Eco-Friendly color challenge.  After all, isn’t the earth mostly made of brown stuff?  There’s just a lot of green and blue on top of the chocolatey goodness!

While I’m all for unique trimmings on unique models, this blue lightbulb umbrella is a bit much.  Anodized(?) blue on a cheap metal stamping doesn’t look better, it accentuates something that’s better left in chrome camouflage. The only thing worse would be my brown remark from above, translated here.

If there was no fender flare, no pear shape to the bumper, this would be a decent enough looking machine. Then again, the 8th Gen Civic already had that covered. Much like the awful Chevy Uplander (CUV-wannabe) to the mediocre Chevy Venture (Minivan) that came before it, sometimes change is a very bad, very half-assed thing indeed.

On the plus side, the plane of the bumper that flows into the headlight is pretty cool from here.  And the bumper to fender seam is logical. There’s a bit of the 1970s wedgy perfection here.  Just not enough of it.

The 9th Gen Hybrid wheels are as contrived and overwrought as the front end.  The 8th Gen’s totally futuristic wheels were so much better.

Contrary to most cab-forward designs, the Civic’s plastic trim on the cowl is quite minimal and clean.  It’s nice to see more painted hood and less black plastic in this manner.

Too bad about this slab of plastic.  The Daylight Opening (DLO) of the 9th Gen is so, so much worse than the 8th Gen.  What used to be a cool ’70s people mover with those sleek bits of glass in front of the door turned into plastic triangles of DLO FAIL.  It’s very sad to see Honda go to Pontiac Aztek levels of cheapness in their quest to…well, I have no idea what they were thinking.

That’s right, they were thinking about the $$$.  And since the 2013 model still has the plastic triangles of DLO FAIL, we see that it’s still all about the money. Ain’t a damn thing funny!

DLO FAIL from another angle, complete with round-ish mirrors that fight the very wedgy greenhouse.  Remember when Honda spent the money to put covered headlights on the 3rd Generation Accord?  Oh, how the mighty have fallen.  Hyundai and Kia: the ball is in your court.

And yet, just like my review back in 2007, I still hear Jazz-Rock Fusion when I see a Civic.  The 70′s never died, it just went mainstream pop. The watered down wheel design, big hunka DLO FAIL, unnecessary muscular crease by the door handles and generic taillights don’t totally negate the wedge greenhouse. Probably.

Ack: bargain basement Hofmeister Kinkery!!! Try saying that three times fast!

Another reason to love the 8th Gen Civic.  While this isn’t DLO FAIL like the front, this cheap bit of (tacked on, not-flush fitting) trim at the end of the DLO means Honda took a page from GM’s beancounting playbook.  A very sad move indeed, son.

Since I am not one of those autojournos that gets all-expense paid trips to the LA Auto Show (sorry about that), I don’t know if the 2013 Civic improved here.  From what I see on the web, I have my doubts. Too bad about that.

Is this one piece plastic casting of parcel shelf and high-mount stop light (CHMSL) a clean and modern design, or a cheap bit from the dark days of GM and Chrysler interiors? I like carpet better, personally.

Most (all?) Civics in the history of Honda Awesomeness sported taillights that were either full width or something close to it. This cheapness is too Toyota like, and shameful.  Luckily the 2013 model goes back to a lamp arrangement befitting the brand and the Civic lineage. Now if only I knew for sure that bumper shelf below the taillights also met the chopping block for ’13.

At least you can’t see the DLO FAIL from this angle.

The strong shoulder line in this panel extends logically into the rear door.  It looks good enough, but the flat and wedgy profile of the 8th Gen was far more appealing from this angle. Mostly because it didn’t over promise on style, in an overwrought Toyota way. Hondas used to be so lithe and clean!

Thank goodness that mustache above the license plate isn’t chrome, as Honda would be just a fender ventiport away from copying every design cliché in the book! And that “shelf” at each corner really needs to go from this angle.  The pear-shaped Civic must never been seen again!

While there is an interesting dynamic of busy angles at the border of the Civic’s body, it is lumpy and frumpy.  This design will not age well.

Dare I say that, compared to what you see here, the 8th Gen Civic was downright gorgeous from this angle? While all the planes and wedges all lead to complimentary vanishing points somewhere out there in interstellar space (hopefully), there are simply far too many of them.

More blue tinting and pointless chrome bits. The lights would look better if they were flush to the body. It would also eliminate many lumps you’ve seen in the last two pictures.

And the spoiler adds a coupla more unique planes into the mix.  Just waaaay too busy.

Too many clichés, too much abandonment of what made the Civic a quality product with progressive and/or upscale design. The best thing you can say about the 2012 Civic is that the 2013 model should be in the showrooms very shortly.

Thanks for reading, you have a lovely weekend! This photo from 2006 will help.

Belle Isle sans sunlight is a scary place for most Detroiters, but many a CCS student knew this was the place to enjoy your machine.  But those days are gone, and I believe the 4000 CS Quattro that I adored found a new owner in Denver about 8 years ago.  Perhaps Murilee will see it soon in the junkyard.

Now this particular 4000 belongs to the somewhat-famous Tony Hoffman, a true genius when it comes to anything VAG related. It is his daily driver, and it shows.  In a good way, check out those factory looking driving lights in the grille.  Problem is, those aren’t factory. But you can still see the new 4000′s nicer bumper, made from fewer offending parts compared to the original 4000.  And the Euro-like headlights that finally made it into production!  It’s a big change from the last 4000 in this series.

Oops, missing reflectors in the bumper, too. But you can see the Audi 5000′s design DNA in the lights and bumpers, even if this isn’t the clean sheet re-think like the flagship Audi. The execution of Audi’s future design elements to its current platform were done fantastically well.

Okay, maybe those driving lights don’t look factory at all.  And maybe they make the Audi logo look like a kid that just bought a certain mouse-like hat at Disneyland. But the smooth bumper finally lets the 4000′s clean lines shine.  I love how the fender, hood, signal lights and headlights all share common cut lines. And how the bumper’s curvature matches that of the hood.

Trying to look like the big brother 5000, this 4000 is certainly a serious entry into the mid-luxury Yuppie market of the 1980s.  Wrap around lights that match the bumper curve for curve? Check.  All front end lines share the same vanishing point?  Check. Too bad the lower light/grille trim is missing, but sometimes I must photograph whatever comes my way.

Unlike the previous 4000′s Tupperware trimmings, this upper bumper trim is a small aluminum strip. And while the connection points are a little crude by today’s standards, this is a wonderful upgrade.

And no center trim buckle here!  Big step up from the original 4000.

I still feel the front end is too thick, static and stodgy from this angle.  If only there was more taper up front so the fender would look “faster” from front to back.

Still an odd mis-mash of seams, but the 4000 was not designed with an Audi 5000 budget in mind.

The front end’s taper looks better from here.  Perhaps the hard-line in the fender (by the hood and up against the headlights) is the only static part that “slows” down the package. And the bumper’s side protection finally looks like a proper Yuppiemobile. Integration at its finest, topped with a layer of aluminum icing.

And the superior bumper-age of the redesigned 4000 continues to the upscale side protection.  Very clean, very Audi and very 1980s.

Yes Tony’s car is rough around the edges.  But the wedgy edges of this fantastic design remain.  Compared to the original 4000′s comprised mouldings, these are superior for many reasons.  One: fancy Audi emblem, instead of a plastic casting.  Two: they cover the lumpy sheetmetal bend and smooth out the lower half of the body, while the older model’s trim was slapped on below the bend.  Three: the negative area for the door moulding to clear the fender is almost invisible. Four: more snazzy aluminum trim.

Okay, perhaps the mouldings are a little too shallow: witness the exposed sheet metal on the doors.  But this certainly helps remove the negative area’s bulk on the rubber, and this is still a huge improvement over the outgoing 4000.

Yes, these mouldings are a work of art on a rather unappealing bend.  All of a sudden, form and function meet, fall in love and get married.

The lower trim panel integrates all of the body’s elements into a nice foundation to hug the earth.

Step back and see what I’m talkin’ about.  With the 4000′s redesign, the whole becomes more integrated, focused on the taut lines of the midsection.  Smooth bumpers keep you away from the corners and the strong horizontal lines in the midsection (mouldings) accentuate the harmony and cleanliness of the aerodynamic wedge styling that was so common in high-class vehicles of the 1980s.

Yes, 4000′s refinement is present: an executive sedan if you want the finer things in life without trying too hard (Mercedes, BMW), without being stodgy (Cadillac and Lincoln) and without being screwball weird (SAAB, Volvo).  All lines are in harmony, all in the right place.

Man, what an amazing piece of work for a mid-cycle refresh.

Now perhaps the moulding is too thick for such a small and tall platform.  It does take away from the clean door cutlines and flowing DLO of the Hofmeister Kink-infused greenhouse. But the moulding’s proportioning is respectful to the rest of the package, so it works.

The front doors are vent window free, unlike most of the earlier 4000s (except for the LE model reviewed last time).  So the look is far cleaner, thanks to one less static line thrown into the mix.

While I love “quattro” props as much as the other guy, this one gets too close to the edges of the glass.  I’d shrink it down a good inch or so.  No need to overdo it, we all know that Quattro Audis totally rock.

Such a clean door cut line.  Such an open and exciting greenhouse.  Exciting?  Well, perhaps I’ve been punished by too many Chrysler 300s…and 300 wannabes.

And the rear bumper!  Oh my!  So clean and so elegant.  We gotta do something about Tony’s love of Audi decals, but the redesigned tail lights and that bumper clean up the 4000, taking it to a new level of snobbery.

There’s a strong sense of Audi 5000 here.  And it gets better the farther you go ’round back.

This isn’t the only 4000 that cracks the (non-functional) lense in this spot. One of my first H-town junkyard trips after I left CCS was to get a replacement for my buddy’s 4000 back in Detroit.  Like most modern/minimalistic art, cars from the 1980s let pure design elements take up a lot of real estate.  Clownish license plate chrome mustaches would be laughed out of town, as lighting pods get center stage.  Think new Dodge Charger, for example.

While this treatment looked far more elegant on the larger 5000, these lights filled up a lot of undefined space from the old 4000.  And that undefined sheet metal clouded the purity of this body’s design.  Clear, logical and minimalistic lenses were a great upgrade.

This looks like a far, far more expensive car than the original 4000.

Just because the lights are minimal does NOT mean they are simple.  Look at the casting work involved to flush them against the license plate.  This couldn’t be cheap back in the days of Atari 2600 technology. Plus, it’s lovely.

And the “quattro” badge reminds all why something this beautiful costs more than a, uh, Honda Accord?

Just like the outgoing 4000, the spoiler is too big in some places. Thin it out so the trunk lock won’t mess up the vibe.

Just like the front, there’s a modest meeting point for the aluminum trim.  Safe!

Even from down here, the bumpers are a HUGE improvement. The clean and organized plastic works well to let the lighting pods shine, so to speak.  Modern art on wheels, for the win.

“Quattro” lettering in the rear window defogger?  Not only is it nicely proportioned with the rest of the glass, it’s a somewhat subtle nod to why Audi’s are different/better than other European marques. If you disagree, fair enough. But I counter with today’s fake fender chrome/vents…and Audi’s lack of bandwagon jumping.

So don’t mess with this guy, he might be crazy enough to know what he’s doing.

When Sajeev the TTAC autojourno turns into the Indian Heritage Wearing Judge in the 24 Hours of LeMons, Tony gives me the keys to this Audi 4000 CS Quattro so I can quickly lay the hurt down on cheaty racers. This car is a joy to behold and drive. Stylistically it’s very crude compared to the Audi 5000, but it promises the same thrills of the honest and entertaining mechanicals underneath.

Happy Thanksgiving from “Indian Judge” Sajeev, and I hope you have a lovely weekend.

One of my Automotive Design teachers at CCS made us take a personality test to determine our strengths(?) as a designer.  It was beyond stupid, or so I thought. To wit, a (paraphrased) question: do you collect old things?  The answer was supposedly neutral: no matter what you answered on this query, your overall score didn’t change.

Which is a total crock. The history of design is so very important, especially for a powerhouse like Audi. Please!

The Audi 4000 signified the impending maturity of the Audi brand in the USA. This is a design that was the harbinger of better things to come: mass appeal with aspirational appeal.  It was seen in the Audi 5000, but that’s for another day. The 1984 Audi 4000 LE is a particularly perfect example of the breed, based on rarity (less than 400 made) alone.  Add the fact that this vehicle’s owner is our own Captain Mike Solo, who visited me in Houston to pick up his impressive 4000 LE a couple of weeks ago.

Now let’s be clear on one thing: like most European iron from this era, the 4000 was a somewhat horrible bastard compared to its homemarket offering.  The Euro 4000 (called the Audi 80) wasn’t handicapped by this battering ram bumper. The nose is overly static thanks to it and the US-spec headlights drowning out the clean lines of the upper half of the fascia.

While styled by the great Giugiaro himself, he did a far better job a couple of years later making the Hyundai Excel‘s bumpers. Perhaps VW was responsible for the US-spec bumpers, and if so, my apologizes to Mr. G and his studio.

Audi fanatics shall note that the LE was front-wheel drive , but there’s a Quattro badge on the grille!  Captain Mike’s LE had front end damage, so this isn’t the original grille.  (The emblem pops off, if you really give a crap about that.)

The quad headlights look a little sleeker from the side, sunken in with a wraparound trim cover and integral reflector. And while that bumper is all kinds of big compared to the Euro 80, let’s not forget that Lincoln loving fools like yours truly sported some seriously scary battering rams on their late-70s Disco Iron.  The point: these bumpers were here for a damn good reason.

Even better, the prodigious lower valance does a good job taking your eyes away from the large bumper.  The overall look is clean, but composed of far too many pieces.

Okay, the headlights look much better from here.  But my beef of too many parts to make the whole is coming to light: the trim between the headlights and bumper exists for…what reason?The extra filler panel abruptly ends with the marker light, adding an unfortunate layer to the already huge bumper.

Is this a Renault Alliance or an Audi 4000?  There’s a reason why people can still lust after aspirational American Iron of this era: they were about the same price, and they looked like a million bucks.  A million tacky and tasteless bucks, but whatever…peep the one piece bumper of the 1980 Ford Thunderbird: hideous car, awesome bumper.

Audi wasn’t on their game just yet, unless you were looking at the Audi 5000 waiting in the wings.

The four rings are a classic design element, and isn’t it such a lovely logo on such a small grille?  Too bad about that center trim thingie!

Too bad this couldn’t be a one piece affair.  Perhaps VW didn’t have the budget to make a fancy hunk of plastic only for America?

Too many parts, too many ways to weather in the Texas sun.  A big gap near my finger, an overlapping trim piece to the left.  The team involved in the US-Federalization of the Audi 80 can’t be thrilled with the end result in the 4000.

As you turn away from the 4000′s US-spec design, the clarity of the Audi 80′s DNA starts to show.  The side marker light is too close to the fender’s subtle crease, but at least it’s a slick affair with no exposed screws.

Like a balding forehead, the upper half of the fender is too thick and static, too Datsun Maxima.  A little less sheet metal above the headlights (ramp up) would make the front a little sleeker and “speed up” the lines as the fenders go to the A-pillar.

The thinner fender at the front wouldn’t change things here, but the overall effect would be far sleeker. Also note the interesting cut line of the fender into space normally reserved for the cowl: this also helps speed up the look.

That cut line made no sense in the last photo, but here you see it blend into the base of the greenhouse’s DLO, where the side view mirror starts the rest of the design.  Logical!

When is the last time you saw a near-luxury car with exposed wiper arms?  Times have changed, for the better.

Go a little lower and examine the bodyside molding, note the large negative area needed for the rubber to clear the path of an opening door: while this is a design pet peeve of mine, the cute Audi logo cast into the space is pretty cool.  The bigger problem?  The molding doesn’t blend into the crease directly above, it adds unnecessary visual bulk by not playing nice with the sheet metal.

Yup, premium imported vehicles have come a loooong way!

Today we hate the hideous black plastic triangle of DLO fail…but the Audi 4000′s black paint doesn’t look much classier.  Why not make an integrated sideview mirror casting to eliminate this waste of space?

Step back. That’s better. The 4000′s greenhouse is large, airy and chock full of glass.  The LE went a step further, eliminating the vent windows on the front doors.  It looks fantastic, also being a hat tip to the redesigned 4000 arriving shortly. The extra window in the C-pillar isn’t a cheap addition, and the contours of the sheet metal below give the impression of more tumblehome to the roof. Epic.

The 4000 is quite a looker from here.  Long hood, short deck and a wide open greenhouse. It looks efficient and sporty.  The C-pillar is fast, but not idiotically so. The decklid’s downward taper is delicious. While Audi’s clean DNA isn’t entirely present, this is definitely not Detroit Iron…and has more logical lines and crisp contours compared to its Japanese wannabe-competitors. Slam dunk win.

Did I mention “crisp contours”?  Note the four bends in the side of the 4000′s profile.  It’s not busy, and adds style without bulk and fuss.

I really like the slender black plastic door pulls with modest chrome overlays, especially since the negative area behind them is logical, not drawing attention to itself. (I’m looking at you, Toyota Venza) And the little release lever behind the slab of plastic is pretty slick.

Until Mike informed me that these release levers break at an alarming rate.  So much for beauty and durability going hand in hand.

Look at the size of that greenhouse!  What I wouldn’t do to see such a fine ratio of glass-to-metal, and for a clean cut line between the rear door and the fender. Everything is in its right place, logically.

The recessed rim is quite a looker too.

The BMW-like Hofmeister kink in the quarter window is a nice touch, sure to upset fans of the Roundel to no end! The horizontal trim bit at the base of the C-pillar upsets me. Was there a vinyl top option I’m not aware of?

While nobody loves black plastic triangles, this one serves a purpose (rear glass movement) and has nothing to do with DLO fail. Win.

This rain gutter is such a period piece, but it’s well-integrated. I wish the front bumper was this slick. Epic win.

Clean, trim and efficient.  The rear bumper has the same deadly sins of the front, but to a lesser extent.  Maybe because there’s an offset bulky spoiler on the deck lid?

A functional gas cap with finger assist (so to speak) and a symmetrical design that isn’t smeared on one of the 4000′s many body creases. Nice.

Tumblehome aplenty.  Me likey. A lot.

I’d still like to know why this trim piece at the base of the C-pillar needs to exist.  My cockamamie vinyl top notion makes sense from this angle!

Walk up, check out those cool halo headrests for rear passengers.  Very upmarket!  And if you want to complain about the aforementioned Hofmeister kink, Captain Mike has a Complaint Department ready to “handle” your concerns.

Yes ladies, he’s single!

Back to the bumper. Just like the front, that intermediate piece between the bumper and the body isn’t an elegant solution.  I know Audi was trying to eliminate the “shelf” appearance of most big bumper’d cars from this era, but this isn’t working.  The intermediate piece’s abrupt ending looks cheap, fading to bumper level as it reaches the rear wheels would have been marginally better.  Better still, stick with the conventional bumper “shelf”.

I do like how the crease ends into nothingness before the tail light.  I just wish the amber portion of the lense used that as a start/end point.

Then again, the 50/50 distribution of amber and red looks better here.

The 4000′s butt is a bit rounder than the front.  The curvy lights give surface tension to the design, even if it’s too VW-like for my tastes. The 4000′s redesign fixed that “problem”.

Like the front end’s significant valence, the rear end’s use of body color paint below the bumper helps lean out the package.

The spoiler is a nice “cap” to the decklid, tucking around the emblems and adding a new element to a somewhat mundane rear end. From this angle it looks like a perfectly curved baseball cap on the chiseled face of a perfectly wealthy baseball player.

Too bad the spoiler is too thick for the trunk lock.  Price point be damned, the 4000 is still a small car, the spoiler needs a bit more whimsy and lightheartedness to really be a part of the whole package.

These exposed license plate lights aren’t exactly the stuff of Yuppie fantasy, but at least you don’t see any exposed screws. And the lense is nicely frenched in.  While the 4000 is a nice piece, consider it as one of the vehicles that ushered decades of unquestionable design authority from Audi. Everyone starts somewhere, and this is a damn good place to start.

And that’s the real story here.

But still: my, what a big…bumper you have!  Thanks for reading and have a fantastic week!

Damn near everyone in the Industrial Design department at CCS said my engineering/gearhead/history buff background was killing my potential Car Design career. In hindsight they had a point, but most were complete jerks about it.  With three art history courses at three different colleges in mind, automotive brands/models/trim levels do indeed nod to something more than PR-hyped styling takeaways: perhaps a vintage automobile, a vague reference to a sub-culture not normally associated with a large corporation, or an entire genre of fine art. But the Scion FR-S isn’t retro…

…it’s retro-futurism.

Toothy and fang-like.  The FR-S has an assertive stance, made clear with pointy scoops at the base of the bumper and a hard cut line separating the bumper’s snout against the headlights.  Nissan 370Z it ain’t, there’s another hard crease between the headlights and the fog light area, making for three pairs of hard lines that give the FR-S a very angry look.

The round bulge for the low-beam headlights adds a more-than welcome soft point to all these fierce elements, but something about the Scion emblem in the center looks less like an organic extension of natural facial features…and possibly more of a wart on an otherwise lovely face. Even the hood cut lines are clean and logical.

The depression around the emblem is what kills the nose. This is far too cute and soft, which has nothing to do with this car.  While corporate logos housed in round casings is more than a little trite, combining it with the bumper’s reverse pimple takes away from the design’s overall aggressiveness.

A mail slot grille, individual S-C-I-O-N lettering…heck even the flat spot/round logo combo of the last Toyota Supra is a huge improvement.  Maybe on the mid-cycle refresh!

We discussed the hard, fierce lines before, but there’s more to the FR-S.  Note the gentle bend in the hood and bumper, creating a new point of surface tension.  It keeps the bumper from being too bloating and boring. If there was a slotted grille (a la mid-cycle refreshed Lexus SC400) using this soft curve and its genesis, the nose would be far more aggressive. It would no longer have a self-congratulatory wart for the Scion brand.

And if you missed the round element of the headlight, note how it breaks the surface tension of the front end from this angle.  Less techno-future, more retro Ferrari headlight from the 1950-60s.  Retro and future combine to form one being.  Dang.

The fog light pod is a different story.  The gigantic black plug is pretty tasteless, though I am sure the aftermarket can make it into a functional speed hole for something.  Perhaps a brake cooling duct, or something turbo-intercooler related. No matter, the entire form is a key element to the FR-S’s fierce nose.  And the strong linearity of the beveled edge around its bottom and outer edge looks pretty trick.

The angry creases of the lower bumper, the headlight, the fog light look absolutely sinister.  But the subtle crease above the headlight? That’s like a flirty eyebrow on a very pretty face.  It’s like a Maserati Gran Tourismo coupe, but not Italian super car pompous. Me likey.

Nicely integrated signal light!  But the front end’s angry lines look so tough because of one design feature: front end overhang allowing for an organic tapering of the snout.  Repeat after me, “Overhang is a good thing. A GOOD THING!”

Put another way: you ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog, Mr. Scion FR-S!

OMG SON, am I really seeing a non-Ferrari-Corvette-Panther with an impressive amount of space between the firewall and the front axle?  This dash-to-axle ratio is more than a little delicious, and such a great value compared to the others! (except the Panther, ‘natch)

While this 86-boxer emblem is “emblematic” of the limp-wristed motor beneath, you can’t deny the presence of such a “fast” looking line on the expansive canvas of a rear-wheel drive fender. Even better, this painted fender trim lies on a separate plane from the sheet metal itself, adding surface tension to a tall (by retro standards) belt line.

But I’m seeing another, far bigger problem. More on that later.

Thank goodness my camera phone couldn’t properly show this fake fender vent.  Oops on my part, double oops on the designer’s part.

That “far bigger” problem mentioned two photos ago?  Take a look at the sheer number of panel gaps, and their terrible sizing!  The door to fender is the worst, until you spend a little more time with the plastic cowl trim that starts with the wipers and ends at the base of the A-pillar.

Chintzy. Cheap. In poor taste for any non-Yugo product.  Go back to the last photo and note the sloppy end-point installation of the black plastic cowl trim. Hell, even the Yugo didn’t f–k up a fender’s meeting point this badly.  It doesn’t take much to visualize a fender that fixes this problem, too bad they couldn’t metal smith that plastic tab out.

You can see a bit of the black cowl plastic here too.  And the gigantic panel gap of the A-pillar to fender.  While Toyota generously gave a glass triangle instead of the typical DLO FAIL at this point, this area suffers from a unique form of FAIL: the DLO slides below the A-pillar, the fender AND the fender vent panel, adding another unnecessary line to the profile!

On the plus side, the unique plane of the fender vent/emblem continues across the top of the door.  Back on the minus side again, the side-view mirror’s black plastic base fights this plane with pudgy, bulge-y, overlapping curves. It reminds me of when I used to pour batter into the waffle iron as a child, and spill it over the “lines”.

In collector car speak, the FR-S is definitely more of a 20-footer. The ungainly cowl plastic, the hideous panel gaps and unnecessary meeting points blend into a smooth and slick coupe.  While the FR-S is still tall and mid-heavy like most modern cars, the ample greenhouse, flowing C-pillar and elegant “swoop” of the door’s cut line are an instant classic.  I love the complementary swoop of the rocker panel, especially as it naturally flows to the rear wheel well! Retro-futurism, indeed.

Not as lovely as a Porsche Cayman from this angle, but quite a stunner compared to everything else on the market.  While I’d like more chisel to the quarter panel’s “shoulders” on the C-pillar and a bit less hard/perfectly round negative area behind the door handle, this car is still the business.

Except for that droopy, chubby side view mirror.  I can’t wait for the aftermarket to “fix” this with a more suitable replacement.

Ack! The door cut line doesn’t end at the same point where the B-pillar begins!  While not as horrendous as the CTS coupe, it’s the same buzz kill.  The extra line presented here never had to exist.  And the FR-S deserves better.

Then again, this ain’t nothing compared to the nightmare of panel gaps and extraneous lines at the A-pillar…so the B-pillar is like totally my second favorite pillar on this car!

But kudos to the team responsible for the window trim and weatherstripping: the mating of two unique parts above the B-pillar is super tight and very intuitive. Yup, this is totally my second favorite pillar on the FR-S.

But there’s something about the FR-S’ C-pillar: it starts with this reverse power dome roof, continues to the glass shaped like the “T” of Toyota’s Truck emblem…even the black plastic rain gutter looks fast and powerful.

Note the amount of tumblehome between the roof and the quarter panel’s wheel arch/flares: significant!  This is a straight up sexy roof.  The Toyota Truck themed glass is very Toyota/Scion modern, but the forms presented in silver paint are just so, so classic. Retro-futurism ahoy!

The trunk shares its endpoint with the rear glass. The quarter panel and trunk share a common line with the side of the glass. Combined with the classical goodness of a proper RWD sports coupe in proportioning, this is one of those classic moves we just don’t see enough.

Oh yeah baby, that’s a C-pillar to die for.  Like I mentioned before, the gentle bend above the gas door should be a little more creased: this blends the hard edges in the bumper to the rest of the body far more elegantly.

What the heck is that???  As a Lincoln-Mercury fanboi I’ve always enjoyed the round Continental kit, grudgingly appreciating the goofy trapezoidal butt of the 1977 Mercury Cougar…but seeing this all over again on the FR-S? Some elements of retro-futurism MUST DIE!

This trunk needs a serious diet.  Just like the Cougar, when 1983 rolled around and that bustle got borderline beautiful.  Perhaps just raise up the bumper’s middle section to make the trunk a little smaller…but do something, ANYTHING to get that gaping maw outta my face!

Far less annoying is this subtle Bangle Butt on the rear.  Trunks don’t need flame surfacing, nor do they need a solid chunk of chrome tail light for no good reason.  Don’t make me wish this was an AE-86 liftback instead!

The Bangle Butt goes up.  The bumper slides down like Homer Simpson’s gut. The trunk thinks it’s a 1977 Mercury Cougar for a new millennium.  I really hope Toyota cleans this mess up in the mid-cycle refresh.

Flush-mounted tail lights would help too.  The chrome spear adds another layer of gravel to this talus pile of FAIL.  Imagine lights that are flat and form-fitting, and the FR-S could have more of a Lotus Elise “cove” treatment instead!

Another problem: the flat face of the trunk fights the downward sloping curve presented from corner-to-corner of the bumper. I’ll go into further detail, three pictures from now.

I guess the red triangle in the backup lights is cool, but it is another busy element to this convoluted rear deck.  It also reminds me of the over-the-top literal rotary theme on the Mazda RX-8 in the same place: considering their flawed engines, is it no surprise that both of these machines have this quirky styling element?

I’d prefer a smaller version of this emblem on that massive plastic mustache above the license plate instead.  Leave the Scion emblem in its place, but shrink it down a good 25% too.  Then put “FR-S” in the lower RH of the mustache.  Maybe emboss it into the plastic…nah, that’s a bit much: stream of consciousness writing FTL.

Remember what I said about the trunk needing a little slope?  If it leaned (from the top, leave the bottom’s location as-is) juuuust a bit, if the signal light didn’t thrust toward the center of the trunk so violently, there’d be a sweeter face to this sour puss.

The gas filler door is slightly melted over the fender bulge, but not bad enough to offend.  Safe!

One last curve: now you know why my professors/classmates at CCS said my automotive passions handicapped my designs!  How slow can you go? Sure it’s got a pretty face and a lovely hood, but open the bonnet and the FR-S’ retro-futurism officially failed.

Thanks for reading, I hope you have a great week!

I wonder if vehicles like the Infiniti JX are the byproduct of a design studio trying too hard to address criticisms.  Or maybe this is just a common case of “over-styling” a vehicle.  Either way, here we are.

Is that a big-ass badge in ‘yo grille, or are you just happy to see me?

Since when did we let vehicles get so big (or tall) that emblems make a statement by being the size of a license plate? I’m not sure if I love/hate the lumps and bumps on the hood, bumper and the strange wraparound curves of the headlights.  The wings at the ends of the hood are a bit much, but nothing compared to that XXL grille.  Silly makes the wrong statement for a luxury car brand.

While Lexus’ “spindle” grille has a certain presence from its sharp curves and layers of texture/elevations, this flat and flabby grille shows why Infiniti always plays second fiddle to that other premium Japanese brand.

When you need textured light/wind diffusers in such an obvious location on the headlight, you did something wrong. Maybe there was a last minute legality issue with the light output, or maybe those things were needed to smooth out the aerodynamics.  Or maybe something else. Whatever that design problem is, this was the wrong solution.

This Mustang-esque lower valence treatment looks too sporty for a truck. Or SUV. Or CUV.  But when you have a face as tall as this, you got a lot of real estate to style.  At least the chrome fog light trim and not-solid plastic grille looks suitably upscale.

Hello Mr. Front Fascia, I’d like you to meet Mr. Hood and Mr. Fender.  You guys obviously hate each other, but that’s what happens when you add too many curves with no real place to merge elements cleanly.  For a fine example of this concept, check out the 1984 Corvette. It tucked away every panel gap behind a protective rubber stripe.

I love how this pointy styling element at the end of the headlight is cleanly and thoroughly filled in with an amber signal light. It adds sanity to an otherwise insane lighting pod.

The Gatling Gun look of the third generation Infiniti Q45 is alive and well in the JX.  And that’s a good thing.

I enjoy directional, twisty wheels on vehicles with boring sheetmetal, it brings visual excitement where needed. The JX’s voluptuous curves don’t need them: it adds too much noise to an already noisy body. Furthermore, can you believe how short (yet tall in height) the overhang is on this machine?

Like Disco music in 1983, car based trucks are wearing really, really thin these days.

No DLO fail and the fender/door/A-pillar meeting point is pretty logical.  Until you see just how much dead space there is between the A-pillar and the hood.  That’s one oddly shaped fender!

The negative area highlighted here may become a significant design element as you walk further back, but it starts in a horribly undefined/arbitrary location.  I’d move it much farther away from the door’s cutline, so it’d be less of an afterthought and “part of the whole” package.

The little tumor at the bottom of the side-view mirror doesn’t please the eyes. Considering the size of this part, there wasn’t enough real estate for a cleaner installation?

There’s a tacked-on mud flap up front, a clever chrome moulding (when nobody woulda minded ordinary paint) and a flared lower moulding at the bottom.  I hate the latter, as they are usually so big that they require “notching” so you can actually open the door without squishing the moulding.  Pontiacs of the 1990s were terrible about this, and it’s sad to see this trend continue apace.

More moulding notching.  Nothing says “We don’t really try very hard” quite like a severely notched moulding.

The notch doesn’t go away when you step back. Even worse, the wavy sheetmetal is a unique element to the JX.  Waves are a slippery slope, so to speak.  The more waves you add, the uglier the door cut line becomes.  I liked the aggressive (yet symmetric) coke-bottle profile of the 1996 Taurus from this angle, perhaps that’s the upper limit of good taste.

Toyota is pretty bad about over-styling the sheetmetal beneath the door handle to give a unique appearance, and now Infiniti is following suit.  Somehow, some way, this trend needs to stop.

No hate here, the JX is quite the looker from this angle.  All the waves and curves work mighty fine.

But (and there’s always a but) I can’t stand this plastic swoop holding the quarter window at the base of the C-pillar.  Maybe this smooths out the aero at highway speeds, but it sure is hideous.

And the big plastic triangle for the rear door’s window isn’t especially beautiful.  But at least it adds a little hard-edged blockiness to an otherwise frilly and frou-frou package.

Ack!  The plastic triangle bends up the window seal!  Infiniti is far from the only automaker doing this bit of design sin, I just wish I could banish this to the land of tailfins, open fenders and other outdated design elements.

I needed to snag an EVOX image to really show off the side.  From afar the JX looks much cleaner.  The fender flares and side sculpturing are not just appealing, they are unique.  But, as I’ve tried to show in the last few pictures, they over-styled the hell outta this vehicle. And for no good reason!

Speaking of…I normally like a radical looking side window, but this one tries way too hard.  The logical crease that sweeps back to the tailgate is a nice touch, ditto the plastic tailgate trim emulating the window’s curve.  But it’s not enough: this is such a silly design element.

Yup, still very silly.  Plus, it makes a rather impressive blind spot.  Remember when people bought SUV’s for their excellent view of the road from all corners? That died sometime around the Explorer-Firestone tire debacle.

While the front can get away with the curves and bubbles, the business end of a CUV needs to be boxy. Infiniti tries harder than most to hide that truth, and the overall look is contrived and counter-intuitive.  The lower curve of the rear glass gives the rear end a silly smile, while the rakish lighting pods have no business on a CUV.  Infiniti’s signature upper and lower license plate chrome mustaches are similarly out of place.  When it comes to the business end of any vehicle, being simple (or at least functionally honest) in the design is the right move.

More to the point, the JX’s rear hatch has too many elevation changes. I like the design on the tail lights from this angle, if they were flush with the body.  Stop trying so hard to be different!  There’s not enough room for creative expressions at this point!

Here’s an EVOX image since mine was too washed out from this angle.  You can’t see the elevation changes from here, which makes the JX look cleaner.  Flattening out most of the elevation changes would make the JX look this good at other angles.  But there’s really no hope in saving that rear glass treatment: this isn’t a Nissan Murano.  It doesn’t work here.

Bumper protection is usually an extra-cost option, but it shouldn’t be this much of an afterthought. If you can’t flush this part into the bumper for all models, at least chop it off before it melts down the bumper.  I’m fine with this treatment on a Hyundai CUV or similar, but Infiniti is a luxury brand!

When your emblem sits this close to your chrome trim, either the badge needs a shrink or your painted real estate needs more acreage.  Shrink the badge down, we know this isn’t a Honda! We promise!

This oval element is a nicely integrated item.  Kudos.

My favorite part of the JX is the sleek and functional components making up the rear wiper arm.

Now that I think about it, not only are there too many elevation changes on the rear end, but the lights are too narrow for this gigantic ass.

Yup, they need to be inches thicker. Inches, because the dead space between the bumper and the tail lights is rather extravagant. And not in a good way.

Combine all my other beefs with the two different textures presented in the tail lights, and I really grow weary of this back end. Simplify your life!

Thanks for reading, have a wonderful week!

This person’s work reminded me how culture influences design, and how people can negatively react to it. Which leads us to a flagship Mercedes heavily(?) influenced by a Mercedes design studio in Japan. Yes, Japan.  So let’s get to it.

Massive. Imposing.  Ugly?  Unlike the utterly fantastic Rolls-Royce Phantom, the Maybach just never had the presence of a proper flagship machine. The headlights are just awful in both shape and size/proportion relative to the rest of the vehicle.  Even worse is the massively generic chrome grille, whose front face looks undoubtedly…Asian.

This grille had little (no?) connection to the original Maybach, plus it was horribly bland and uninspiring.  That said, the massive hood contours complement the grille and headlights nicely.  Add the somewhat posh logo on the hood ornament, and you know this is a large-and-in-charge type of machine.

Here’s another Maybach I shot, giving you a better look at the absolutely silly shape of the headlights.  Googly-eyed lenses on a car that costs…how much? Combine the headlight’s shape with their grille-fighting size says one thing: Greed may be Good, but excess has its limits.

The fussy details on the bumper don’t help.  I’m certain they are meant to complement the LED marker lights at the bottom, but none of this screams “cream of the crop” luxury.  These bumper bulges are better suited to…well…something Korean on the scale of a Hyundai Azera.

Look at all the wasted real estate!  Make all the non-functional chrome go away so this beast can actually look luxurious!

The upside is that first impressions can go away, when you see the rest of the Maybach.  The extra cost over an S-class Benzo becomes clear in the length of that hood, the space between the dash and front axle, and the very subtle yet expansive use of chrome. The big problem–aside from the headlights–is the hard edges making up the hood’s power bulge. It works with the grille, but the rest of the car is so voluptuous that the front end’s design is just flat-out incorrect.

I do like how wheels get more restrained as you move up the automotive food chain.  But let’s hope you (or your driver) don’t scrape up those upwardly bending spokes at your nearest (so to speak) parallel parking curb in Beverly Hills.

No DLO fail, as hoped.  But WTF is up with the two different cut lines for the A-pillar and the door?  Massive(?) engineering undertaking aside, the Maybach would look so much more luxurious if the door’s cut line extended to the same point where the A-pillar meets the hood.

On a more ironic note: economy of lines regularly equates to a more expensive product.  Look at any late-model Aston Martin.  Or any Mac vs. PC debate.  The Maybach screwed the pooch.

I do like the shape of these mirrors and their proportion relative to the rest of this beast.  This proves why we need smaller mirrors in more normal sedans.

Organic and fluid, even in this “short” wheelbase configuration.  The classic pre-war lines that always influence modern executive sedans are here, but softened up.  Perhaps a little too much, as the Mercedes S-class references are not without foundation. The biggest problem to the Maybach’s lack of top dollar snooty factor? An S-class fast roofline.  A similar mistake was made by the original Lincoln Versailles, before a hasty re-do formaled up the rig.  Hmm, perhaps there are more apt Versailles references for the Maybach. Ouch.

There is excellent use of chrome throughout. While luxury cars (that mere mortals can buy) have plenty of spizzarkle around the glass and maybe the door handle area, who has the balls to chrome things below the belt line?  The filthy rich, that’s who!

S-class or Maybach?  It’s such a lovely door curve, with such an elegant roof. Too bad it was never the right move for Maybach. Plus, can’t I get those door handles on an E-class? Pish-posh!

This is a classic Mercedes door.  Adding the curtains is another excellent touch.  With the extra chrome above the door handles making a break in the sheetmetal’s wake, the Maybach’s W116 S-class roots are showing very, very well here.

Oh dear, that roofline is just all wrong for this car. Where’s the formal? But kudos for the tumblehome!

The monster rear moonroof is more than a little cool.  It promises a rear seating cabin that trumps everything. From what I’ve experienced, that’s no lie.

The full width taillight promises more luxury than an S-class and the decklid verges on being pre-war “bustle back” cool.  But without a more formal roof, the promise is watered down to the point of lying.

Here’s a factory photo, showing how the rear end has that classic Bustle Back look, but it can’t be accentuated to the point of ostentatiousness with a sporty roof line messing it up from the beginning. Too bad about that.

Also note how a two-tone paint scheme really adds some “pop” to the package.  Thank goodness for chrome trimmings on the bodyside!

These taillights are great, until the W220 S-class got the same fine-tooth backup lense treatment in 2003. Damn that S-class!!!

That said, the taillights have the same problem as the headlights.  They stick too far into the quarter panel, making the rear look artificially fat. Paper thin lights leading to a wide full length treatment at the bottom would be nice.  And the rounded shape of the trunk’s side might look better if it was as flat as the top. It would also help justify that looney grille up front.

Yup, the decklid needs to be a little flatter to help accentuate the Maybach’s overall size in other places.  Like a modest CEO of a Fortune 500 company, sometimes you have to be small to really be big.

If that didn’t make sense with the last photo, perhaps this shot helps.  The Maybach’s rear is too round and ponderous.  The people have spoken: and they all speak to the Phantom. Well, except for Rick Ross…but it’s all good.

I know a break in the taillight saves a huge wad of cash both in R&D and real world ownership costs, but on this car?  The Maybach needs a one-piece lamp assembly.

This bizarre kink in the glass is brought to you by…well, who knows!

And on that note, soak this in.  The Maybach looks suitably posh in a high-contrast, two-tone paintjob.  It’s a huge step forward.  Now imagine it with a formal roof and smaller headlights. And now, finally, you have a vision of how the Maybach could have beaten extinction. Better luck next time.

Thank you for reading, have a wonderful weekend.

And honestly, after walking around this example at a historically savvy Hyundai dealer (next to a Lamborghini Dealership that bored me after 20 minutes) I suggest to you, dear reader, that the Excel sold so unbelievably well on both price and design. Because this machine could look much, much worse.

Boring and Boxy?  Yes, but the Excel is also very clean and well-integrated, when you consider the design confines of a low asking price.

Note how the signal lights are cleanly and very deeply sunken, instead of screwed on top. There’s an overabundance of parallel lines, which shows a bit of “big picture” thinking by a wise design team.  And every seam and cut line is remarkably well placed. Today’s cars could learn A LOT from the Excel.

The grille is the Excel’s best work: the one piece black plastic affair elegantly stores an emblem, headlights and is a natural extension of the parallel lines in the bumper and the slight curvature of the signal lense. And the grille ends at the same point where the hood and fender meet.  It may not have Italian flair, but someone sweated the details…on a tight budget.

You can see the harmonious lines here.  You can also see the less than perfect panel gaps and the tacked on side marker light, but this is anything but offensive to someone in dire need of cheap wheels.

When is the last time you saw a car that the hood, fender and lighting pods began and ended so logically? Even the grille’s modest and purposeful slats just makes sense (get it?) on this face. If Hyundai installed flush fitting headlamps in 1986, this Excel would look like a proper 1970s concept car from damn near any high dollar design firm. Which is a compliment, of a very high order.

Too bad the white lense couldn’t wrap around juuust a little more.  This would extend the grille’s curvature and make the Excel look a little less static.  Then again, this is a very static and boxy design from any angle outside of the grille, so perhaps Ital Design was on to something.

Once again, note the purposeful and super cheap signal lights.  Something about them screams “honest” like no car can today.

The hood crease doesn’t line up with a natural place in the grille, rather it comes from a place inside the headlights.  This probably keeps the Excel from looking like it was designed using a T-square at every angle…probably a good move by the Italians.

A tiny cowl with a similarly small dashboard.  Does it look cheap, or do you wish history could repeat itself?  Honestly, I don’t know the right answer.

Note the lack of DLO fail: the fender and A-pillar meet in such a logical manner. If only modern cars could replicate this.  That would mean abandoning today’s truck like nose swooping back to a wanna-be sports car greenhouse.  The Excel has a small nose and plenty of tall and upright glass.  It’s almost impossible to mess this one up.

Another shocker: wrap around door pillars on a Hyundai Excel?  This bit of 1980s aerodynamic kit was available on a car this cheap? Surely this door was far more expensive to pop off compared to a Yugo portal!

No, I am not pointing at the stain.  The crease in the fender turns into a large fold after it crosses the mirror.  This fold becomes a very important part of the Excel’s profile.  While the transition is far from organic, it works.

Another fold in the sheet metal. This not only gives the Excel a bit of negative area to break up the (still) very boxy side, it also makes for a logical place to insert some door guards.

More importantly, they put that guard on the fender?  That’s not a cheap item for such a cheap car.  Put it this way: the Ford Crown Victoria had this bit of plastic from 1992 until the mid-2000s, which Ford decided to thrift it out and let the fenders not match the doors.  Nice job Hyundai, you had something to prove while Ford had something to slowly kill for no good reason.

I can’t adequately explain why, but the rubber and chrome guards on this Excel integrate well with the door handles.  It says “cheap, yet cheerful.”  I also like how the side view mirror is by no means an afterthought…even if the wheels and signal lights need a lot of help.

One reason this Excel is in such good shape is because it sits underneath an awning, with an annoying pole right  in the middle! Luckily the B&B will fix it for me using some madtite photoshop skillz.

That problem resolved, there’s nothing wrong with the Excel from this angle.  It’s the classic “three box” design for a sedan. But the fender crease turns into a big crease under the door’s glass, and quickly merges with the rear door’s vent window.  The lower trim isn’t out of place.  The C-pillar is almost fast, yet there is so much greenhouse you are guaranteed not to feel claustrophobic in this machine.

Okay, maybe that last bit was going over the top.  No matter, this isn’t a bad piece of work for an Italian design firm. Not great, but certainly not bad.

The urge to grab a Testor’s paint marker (flat black, ‘natch) and remedy this odd showing of bling was tough to overcome.  Because it does detract from the smooth B-pillar, and the gentle (but present) use of wrap around door pillars. Not a cheap bit of stamping for a super cheap car.

The greenhouse is gigantic on this Hyundai!  It’s hard to dislike this angle when you consider every car looks like a submarine these days, but 1980s econoboxes looked cheap for a reason…and this is it.

Still, I love how the door cutline follows the natural line of the wheel well, then goes up and “back” to shadow the curve of the C-pillar. And no stupid black plastic triangle!

Oh crap, I’m starting to like this shitty little car.

The steel wheels are plain but somewhat easy on the eyes.  Someone bothered to put a flat plane around each vent hole, and they have a nice “dish” to the rim like most rims from this era.  The center cap is clean and modern, if a bit oversized for a car this size.

A locking gas cap?  I am not entirely sure of this Excel’s trim level (it was repainted and debadged and I’m not buying a brochure on eBay to verify) but this highline model has a nice touch that you never see anymore.  For good reason?  Perhaps, but this is another “honest” design element that I can appreciate.

Just like the front, but red. And it’s poor, but very honest!

The rear window matches the C-pillar’s angle quite well.  And there’s a slight amount of tumblehome, which looks out of proportion with the door’s relative straightness.  Dare I say it, can someone chop the roof down so it won’t overpower the doors?

Nah, I take that back.  This makes up for all the Chrysler 300s I’ve seen this past year. It’s refreshing, dammit!

Most of its Japanese and American competition had nicer side contouring, but they were all much more expensive.

Whoa dude, check out the logical trunk cut line, just like the hood!  The current Hyundai Elantra could learn a thing or two from its Excel forefather.

I like the hard bend to quickly and definitively transition from the C-pillar to the back of the roof.  Even more important, there’s another hard bend that accentuates the wrap around doors.  How much did this car cost when new?

Since I couldn’t get a decent shot of “my” Excel, this factory shot shows off the roof’s hard bend and the creases in the side.  You didn’t think the Excel could make the shadows dance with the light, did ya? Another thing you will see (in brutal detail) is the pure and functional design of the tail lights.  Simply put, they blend very well with the design.

More excellent usage of parallel lines.  The tail lights wrap around the quarter panel fairly nicely.  There are several bends that keep the boxy trunk and bumpers from looking like (just like the photo of the hood crease) the Hyundai Excel was designed using a T-square. That’s proved further by the negative area on the bumper and between the taillights. Even the trunk lock/handle is well thought out…at this asking price.

A gigantic wart of a lighting pod with exposed screws. Cheap, but who cares?  The Excel is now a museum piece.  It shows how things used to be done, and how lucky we are today!

Every line is in its right place, if only the trunk’s panel gaps were consistent.  And is it just me, or  are those tail lights a little on the Ferrari Testarossa side?

A ribbed, staggered tail light profile?  Don’t look now, but every Mercedes from the 1980s is blushing!

I swiped this photo (credit given) since I couldn’t get this far away from my example.  The Excel is boxy and chunky (never mind that aftermarket spoiler) but there’s no shame in being a cheap but purposefully designed three-box sedan.

This model came with the luggage rack, which is now mostly missing.  Not surprisingly, it doesn’t detract from the mystique of the Hyundai Excel.

Even their license plate graphics conveys the unabashedly cheap demeanor of the Excel. Very kitch, but the trunk lock/handle is definitely a cool bit of cheap car design.

Unlike so many modern cars that chrome out this feature in hopes of looking larger than life, the Excel’s exhaust pipe doesn’t overpromise. Honesty is a good thing, in this case: the motor never really delivered for the Amercian market. Oh well! Goodbye dear Hyundai Excel, I learned much from your logical Italian design. And I hope you did too.

Thank you all for reading, have a great weekend!

That said, I raced all CCS’ contenders in “arcade mode,” in the big block ’67 Corvette.  With the most power and the easiest to rotate chassis, I wasted most of my Japanese car loving dorm mates. The GT-R was/is rarely my weapon of choice in Gran Turismo. Which kinda explains my general apathy to the GT-R in the flesh.

Swing open that barn door of a grille so we can start dancing! Yee-haw!

The Nissan GT-R has always been a charmingly dumpy 2-door sedan with very little sexiness seen from a proper 2-door coupe. Which makes sense for your average 5.0 Foxbody Notchback or even a Buick Grand National fanatic, but the GT-R turns just as good as it goes: think 911 and Corvette, instead.  But what’s presented is an overwraught sedan, wearing many of the same design cues of the “bad years” of the Mitsubishi Eclipse.

Don’t buy what I’m selling?  I can dig it.  But peep those fluted things around the fog (running?) lights and that gaping maw, both elements in the past decade of Eclipse design language.  And while GT-R looks far, FAR better on proportion and dimensions…I can’t say this design is especially pleasing to the eye. The grille is harsh, the hood (scoops) looks aftermarket, and the headlights are oversized but very static and linear.

It’s brutal and inexcusable…in a good way. I mean, this isn’t an Altima coupe.

Close up to prove my point: is this a NACA duct readily available at Summit Racing?  This certainly is not, but I find the design uninspiring for such an expensive car.

Next close up: this barn shaped cooling-grille-bumper thing is pretty imposing and impressive, but the treatment is just too close for comfort next to the Mitsubishi Eclipse SE. At least the GT-R’s design language hasn’t trickled down to lower Nissans, ruining the mystique. So wait…am I mad at Nissan or Mitsubishi?

Final close up: this tall bumper is ribbed for nobody’s pleasure.  An overabundance of real estate is a big problem for the GT-R. Could be worse, it could be a black plastic insert like the Cadillac CTS-V coupe, I guess.

Iconic emblem FTW.  Not sure if I can say the same about the textured black plastic below. I wish this car looked more expensive!

Okay, I take back my comment about the headlight.  I like the blocky wedge feel, I just wish it was attached to a more organic and less jarring front fascia.

Normally a fender this voluptuous and a hood so bulge-y should tug at the heartstrings, but this design is more like an unfinished lump of clay in the design studio!  Even worse, the GT-R has a wonderful fender that meets up to the A-pillar so elegantly, but I can’t enjoy such economy of cut lines because of the body underneath!

More photo support of the elegant fender-to-A-pillar meeting.  This odd lump on the black plastic triangle probably exists for some aerodynamic purpose, but I can’t shake the feeling it is unnecessary in a better designed vehicle. Does a 911 have this? Or a (gasp!) Corvette?

Fake fender vents are silly on most cars, but this one piece casting is just shameful on a car of this (Dodge?) caliber. I will dance in the streets when designers give up on this idiotic styling trend. I promise.

This greenhouse is rather stunning.  I love the “floating” A-pillar treatment, and how the glass elegantly slopes down as it flows to the trunk. This is one element of the GT-R that I hope will live for years to come, it’s both unique and beautiful.

I couldn’t get a complete side shot in the dealership, so here’s a stock photo.  You can see the unique greenhouse gives the GT-R a commanding presence, but it also accentuates how tall, blocky and cubby this body truly is. If I could take 2″ out of the middle via some sort of automotive Bariatric procedure, I’d be a happy man. This lighter, leaner GT-R would look better from every angle.

And here’s my shot instead.  Natural light helps break up the otherwise slab sided look, especially where the fake vent flows into the front fender’s wheel flare. Also note the helpful hard bend at both wheel wells, and the soft and gentle shadow under the C-pillar, implying a gentle curve to soften the package. Helpful!

Cool door handles almost seem mandatory for a vehicle that became a stateside sensation via PlayStation. This does not disappoint.

Remember those shadows and soft curves previously mentioned?  Yes, they do work. This looks muscular and taut, especially since you can’t judge the GT-R’s height from this angle. There’s nice tumblehome to the cabin, big and broad shoulders, and glass that looks like a racing helmet. Cool!

Note the hard bend (finger pointing) in the C-pillar’s sheet metal. WTF SON: shall we also paint eyebrows on the Mona Lisa?  This bend absolutely ruins a pretty little pillar.

Corvette much? The GT-R’s butt-cap is somewhat appealing, with the strong “square” tone of the marker light mimicking the rear bumper’s harsh cut.  And the round lights don’t look boring (à la Corvette) because of such squareness below, with a hint of round up top.  But that wing looks like a rooftop mounted luggage carrier: adding even more bulk to a tall and fat design.

This Nissan coupe’s back-end would look infinitely better (get it?) if the package sat 1-2″ lower with smaller tail lights. This bumper is just massive, the license plate is absolutely lost in the design!

And I thought the C5 and C6 vettes were worthy of a Sir Mix-A-Lot song. Adding insult to injury is the gentle bend created by drawing a line at the base of the tail lights: making the GT-R’s middle sag like the gut of a stereotypical Gran Turismo couch potato. Bariatric doctors need apply right here!

Zooming in and standing up definitely helps.  The GT-R could be a lean and mean design from here. I am still not in love with the off-center GT-R emblem: this makes the GT-R look like a trim level for some other 2-door vehicle.

Sort of a Super Bee to Dodge Coronet…if such a “Nissan” Coronet existed.

The trunk’s cut line intersects with the tail light in a very unpleasant way. Either the deck lid or the light is trespassing on the GT-R’s massive hindquarters.  Which one needs to retreat?

Much like the ribbed things in the front, this negative area reduces visual bulk and adds some excitement to a big-ass butt.  It is a necessary evil that does help this design.

These tailpipes are huge!  But you really can’t tell until they are isolated from the rear bumper.  The bit of carbon fiber diffusing to the right of the pipes is pretty tasty, too.  If only the entire body was as trim and toned as the lines and curves presented here…then we’d have a proper sports/super car.

Then again, Godzilla himself needed to lose a ton of weight from his midsection too.  So maybe this is no big deal at all. Thanks for reading, have a wonderful week.

Sergio Pininfarina once called the Testarossa “an exaggeration in flamboyance.” A fitting quote for what must be the most famous vehicle to leave his design studio. And while he might be right, compared to today’s flamboyant Fezzas, the Testarossa was veiled in understatement and modernist modesty.

So let’s dig deep into the Mehta Brothers garage, and check out Dr. Mehta’s 1989 Testarossa: a car we’ve wanted for decades.

Oh yes, the Testarossa is an icon, especially in Miami Vice white.  But what made this icon so unique was the lack of flair in the typical areas. Chrome grille?  Nope.  Angry eyes and a pointy beak?  Nope.  The Testarossa sports a modest black egg-crate grille, grinning fog lights, a deep chin spoiler (masking its size via black paint) and a borderline bland hood.  But look how the hood bulges meet with the head lights, which meet with the fog lights. The harmonious lines work almost too well: this is almost boring in comparison to its 512BB predecessor and 512 TR successor.  But those machines were so busy!  This is beautiful.

This car is so subtle it hurts.  Even better, this US-spec Testarossa (TR) shows how well-integrated “our bumpers and lighting pods worked with the package.  It was the hallmark of this vehicle, as the TR was the first Ferrari to successfully globalize the brand…in such a tumultuous time in Automotive History.  This was no small feat for the design team involved.

Even this cooling duct barely makes its presence known.  A good thing, as there’s only one on the bumper…which leads to an asymmetric design.  Why many owners paint this item body color is beyond me.  It ruins the look.

So my only real problem with the front end is the filler panel between the headlights and the bumper.  I wish the hood was incorporated into this part, even though I know it would be a borderline impossible task.

Pop-up headlights need to come back, in a big way.  The Testarossa looks great with the lamps up, as their taper adds another complementary form to the package. To the nay-sayers that suggest that these items are complex and harm aerodynamics at night, I suggest you quit pretending you are a 24-hr Endurance racer and get back on the right side of Automotive History.

This subtle grille emulates the far more famous engine cover on the back.  The picture doesn’t show the fine craftsmanship tucked under the hood’s sheet metal, but the little aluminum louvers are a slick affair.

Then again, if you need have the wiper arm at a certain point, why not just cut a divot in that hood?  You did a bang up job elsewhere, so let’s just hope people don’t mind this!  Honestly, the wiper arm cut is so ballsy that I can’t help but admire it as part of the TR’s character.

That’s a lot of front overhang.  While I find it beautiful, it’s a bit much from a straight side shot.  But long noses make for lower noses, with less surface area to multiply the effects of drag.

But note the scalloped contouring from the fog lights to the side, complete with a side marker light that met US regulations and managed to look like part of the whole, not an afterthought.  Beauty comes in many subtle shades of gray, so to speak.

This 1989 model doesn’t have the single bolt, TRX metric, design wheel.  And while some originality is lost, the flat faces of this 5-spoke affair are pure minimalist design.  Note how the center “floats” inside the rim, and the spokes bend inward oh-so-gently.  Damn.

These wheels are very flat indeed.  Much like a Toyota Prius, I suspect they also do a fine job cheating the wind.  And the subtle fender flares leave you no sign of what’s coming before you get to the rear wheels.

The A-pillar to fender to hood meeting point is a little odd.  Much like the dead space between the headlight and front bumper, I wish this oddly shaped A-pillar ended at the base of the windshield, and the hood took up that real estate instead.  Sometimes I wonder if Sergio Pininfarina thought the same thing.

Look at the fine dots at the top of the windshield: the shadowing effect of these can’t be shown well on camera.  But this was a design hallmark of many vehicles from this era, and I truly miss it.

This rain gutter was probably acceptable for the day, but I wonder what a modern designer could do with a lot of fancy CAD drawings and new-age plastic castings.  That said, I like how damn near everything on this body is made of aluminum, not a chintsy part in sight!

The Testarossa’s rearward visibility was quite good, especially compared to the Lamborghini Countach.  These wispy mirrors certainly helped, and proved that Pininfarina sweated the details…in a time when Italian Super Cars were loved for their horribly quirky nature. No excuses, no compromises with this car.

Well, sort of: the original Testarossa had a single mirror that sat at the top of the A-pillar.  It. Was. Awesome.

But this design is far more effective and doesn’t detract from the whole package. Even though I wish this was a single “flying mirror” TR.

Finally, the side view.  Massive front overhang, but the nose sits so low compared to the front wheel.  This isn’t possible with today’s Eurozone safety standards, which is tragic.  The TR simply has more presence than any other Ferrari on the planet. Which is a bad thing, if you ask your average Ferrari club member. And I have. And the Fanbois can all go pound sand, because this is the car that made Ferrari an international sensation with rock star levels of mainstream appeal.

THIS IS THE ONE.

We all know the insane Testarossa body scoop, but have you looked at it from up close?  Note how the aluminum strakes are clumsily attached: some sort of slip fit (flush to the body) woulda been nice.

The strakes meet with this black air diverter thingie, forcing air into the radiators.  Black paint does wonders at making you overlook things that shouldn’t be there.  I wonder if modern technology could improve on this, without ruining the look.

Note how the door’s strakes meet with the ones in the quarter panels. Not a very good fit, but it gets the job done.  This car is an amazing piece of architecture, in many respects.

Each element of this design is made from an individual sheet of aluminum.  It’s completely awe-inspiring in person.  And tragic, because nobody will ever have the balls to do this again on a production vehicle.

Welcome to an Icon of the 1980s.  Static, architectural elements (the big scoop and the boxy glass) meet with strong, fast, thrusting forms to make the dream vehicle of many a child.  Will we ever see an Icon of this scale ever again?

That quote from Sergio is more than apt from this angle.  Wow.

How can such an amazing Super car wear a quarter window so unbelievably boxy?  Why did we (Gen X-ers) all have a poster of this ride on our bedroom walls?

Tumblehome, that’s why.  The way in how this square pulls inward as it meets the roof is positively fantastic. You can see the “rake” of the tumblehome in the shape of the white trim behind the B-pillar.  This is how you take a hard nosed form and make it round…without actually needing a round shape!

And yes, this is a White on White example of Pininfarina’s most famous (?) designs. If my (unverified Internet) research is correct, us Mehtas own 1 of 4 ever sold in this configuration to the USA.  And yes again, I have every Miami Vice episode on DVD.  Believe that.

While the cooling ductwork is excessive and insane, that’s only when you see it up close.  With the whole package, we see that Pininfarina’s design studio integrated the form: adding a similar theme to the rear fascia and the engine cover. But I’m not done with the side just yet.

The insane side treatment also has a borderline criminal application of a wide body kit.  No car has ever matched this body, so let’s start from the top.  And a nit to pick: why does the top part of this wide body start at a natural point at the wheel well, while the bottom part begins at the door?  I really wish the line started somewhere between the beginning of the wheel well and the midpoint of the fender, at that location.  It would feel much more organic. And yes, this is a very organic design, even if the modern wedge shape is truly jarring.

Back to the genesis of the wide body.  The point by the front wheel is so tiny that your pinky finger can’t rest on it. If that means nothing to you, scroll down to the next picture.

You’ll need all your fingers to cover the wide body’s form by the time you reach the middle of the door.  Towards the end of the door, your pinky and thumb are stretching apart to mimic/measure the space.

And when you reach the end, well, let’s just say that most people can’t cover the width with their hand.  It’s upsettingly wide, but toned down by the gentle curve in the form, and the stunning amount of tumblehome in the glass.  Simply put: it works.

No caption necessary.

I’ve touched on the Testarossa’s fantastic blend of hard edges with soft curves.  Here’s my hand following the wide body on the quarter panel.  It’s a lovely curve, and keeps the TR from being a cut-rate hack job (did I just say that? ) like its Countach counterpart.

And to make sure the roof isn’t boring, there’s a nice hard bend at the rear hatch.  No soft and forgettable transition here, which is just what the doctor ordered.

This same part on the hatch doubles as a passive venting/cooling duct for the radiators. It is absolutely brilliant in execution, and I long for the day when modern Ferraris do something this simple, yet so damn functional.

The slats on the hood integrate the Testarossa’s theme so well.  And touching them just feels right: like damn near everything else on this machine, they are aluminum.  Super Cars are expensive for a reason!

As if to stress the Testarossa’s massive tumblehome, the tapered rear window and massive buttresses in the hatch are an unspoken element that blends well into the package.  Sure it hurts rear visibility, but you won’t fight the flow when you are one of the fastest (the fastest?) vehicle of the era! This angle is another iconic shot of an iconic car, even if most folks will never consider it.

Also note how the 1986-up models wore a CHMSL (Center High Mount Stop Light) in the engine cover, which was pretty well done.  When you consider the Italians lack of R&D funds, this Corvette/Camaro part (yes, really) looks rather wonderful on a Ferrari.

More louvers.  Where are the tail lights?

There they are!  See how the buttresses add a dynamic element to the blocky and tough rear end?  Pininfarina did a wonderful job making the package work. Except for the lights: I wish the reverse lights matched the hatch’s cut line. And that the lights went all the way to the end of the body.  Wishful thinking, as you will see in the next two pictures.

I think it took brass balls to make these flat black aluminum louvers.  But without them, imagine how silly the side scoops look! Everything has to play well, otherwise you get something non-Italian, something cheap and compromised.

That said, I wonder how modern designers could make these forms integrate much nicer.  The gap between the light and the body is pretty bad, and the louvers would look so much cooler if they started at the top of the light!  Not to mention the rather cheap and obvious mounting method.

A flat-black Prancing Horse?  I wonder if Sergio and Enzo ever duked it out over this one.  But, without a doubt, the black emblem was needed to keep the design consistent.  Adding the chrome emblem (which many a Fanboi does in a misguided attempt to be more Italian) only adds a big-ass pimple to a super model’s perfect complexion.

This uninterrupted flow is brought to you by the Testarossa’s former owner, who wisely left this vehicle untouched.  Nothing burns me more than seeing Pininfarina’s finest distorted to fit a misguided notion of what a Ferrari should be.

That’s because a Ferrari is whatever the hell Pininfarina says it is.

Even the US-spec bumper crash pads are beautiful.  They make sense, they are not an afterthought. Pininfarina truly made a successful World Car for the most famous automotive make. Don’t take my word for it, just clock the sales figures.

Note the louver theme on the rear diffuser at the bumper.  Louvers everywhere, and yet they seem to be almost no where at the same time!

Even the name is written in lower case letters: testarossa.  Subtle and almost perfect, just like the rest of the car. Kudos to the design team at Pininfarina responsible for this iconic car, you all definitely made a famous marque into an interstellar sensation.

And you will be missed, Mr. Sergio Pininfarina.  Thank you all for reading, have a great week.

That’s a phrase I said many a morning when the studios at CCS woke up to a bumper crop of new student designs for the week.  Just because you can visualize it doesn’t mean you can make it happen.  Self pity/loathing aside, the 5th generation BMW 7-series is one of those visions in my head that I could never make.  It’s not my cup of tea, and perhaps you don’t like it either.  But the attention to detail (ATD) in this shockingly cohesive Luxury sedan implementation are not to be ignored.

Flow: the 7-er has so much flow that the sheet metal might as well be bursting at the seams with kinetic energy.  Colors and lines literally dance off the light and shadows presented here, with surface tension so well executed I can’t find a line out-of-place.  That said, I think the headlights could be a little higher (or the grille a little lower) to give the 7′s face a bit nicer posture, and the hood cut line should bend downward at the ends to accentuate the bulging hood.

But this nose is remarkably well designed.  Imagine Lincoln’s bow wave grille on this canvas!

Surface tension. Kinetic energy.  There’s something about this machine that pushes all the right buttons, especially when the lighting embellishes the bends and curves.

I tried not to like the BMW Z4-esque flat bumper treatment on the 7-series, but dammit, it looks stunning.  It looks like a top dollar luxury car.  And it literally takes the Z4′s façade to school.

While I constantly and consistently dislike the headlight eyebrows first seen on the E60 BMW 5-series, the frosted glass treatment here is more subtle; befitting a luxury car.  What kills the mood are the marketing messages hidden under the plastic.  Does anyone care about this technology enough to advertise?  No, you don’t advertise at this price point. This is tacky.

Contrasting the flowing energy up top is a rather blocky lower valence with trapezoidal fog lights.  Like a woman with the right proportion of muscle to fat, this totally works.  You need static and dynamic elements together, otherwise any car’s surface is dull and/or out of proportion.

Once again, this one’s got nice curves.  Unlike smaller BMWs, the 7′s prodigious nose helps these forms make complete sense.

Notice from this angle how the curves blend with hard bends and straight lines from the fender.  Proportion Über Alles!

Chrome fender appliqués are bad enough these days, but BMW went and ruined the whole thing with a two piece affair that bleeds over to the door!  The side marker light is necessary, so just frame it in chrome and be done with it.

While the chrome bit flows with the rest of the body, it’s more of a pimple on a rather perfect complexion. Even the yellow marker light is low and long: accentuating the visual presence of the 7-er.

And while tall cowls and pedestrian friendly noses have made the fender-to-greenhouse mating a little complicated, this looks far better than the 3-series we previously reviewed.

More to the point, imagine if the top edge of the hood matched the lower chrome molding on the door glass. Clean.

Much like the Z4-like front end, I really wanted to dislike these door pulls. But they are so well executed, right down to the subtle yet somehow flashy use of chrome!  What you see here is a fine complement to the front end’s fantastic surface tension.

While the side view mirrors do try to do “soft and lean”, they are too big and blocky to speak to the rest of the 7-series.   Some twisted part of me wants to see E36 M3 side view mirrors on this beastie. It’s probably the same part that wishes this body was actually for the next generation Lincoln Town Car.  Panther Love comes in all shapes and sizes, son…

My goodness you have a long…door. Aside from the harsh “divot” in the door’s cut line (thanks to that hard bend), this shot embodies the Grace and Pace we expect from a top-tier luxury whip.  Look out! Someone’s Rolls Royce influence might be showing!

A beautiful DLO (daylight opening) and even the gas door looks cool with the hard crease in it.  My only beef?  Add another curve starting at the base of the door cut line so it “dances” with the wheel well opening.  That’s suitably luxurious.

Surface tension again: instead of a boring blob of a roof, there’s a gentle crease that adds a muscular tone to the package.  Much like the calves of a beautiful woman (or man if the reader prefers, as I don’t discriminate like that), Bavaria got this one so right.  I wish more design firms would remember this point…so to speak.

Finishing the long body side curves are a logical end: the tail light.  Even better, the red thing’s inner curves dance delightfully well with the exterior metal.

Tall and very well organized.  There’s no Cadillac CTS buffalo butt, nor is the Bangle Butt of the previous 7-series (plural) present.  Curves and cut lines are quite harmonious.

Nary a Bangle to be seen!  Also note the gentle and flowing tumblehome to the greenhouse, accentuated by the hard bends at the door handle.  Muscle and curves in harmony.  Lovely.

I could do without the chrome license plate mustache on so many vehicles, but I will say that the 7-er’s addition of chrome backup lights does help integrate the package.  I’d put more chrome (or translucent stuff like the headlights) and ditch the stereotypical bit on the deck lid.

I know this car is very tall, just look at the space between the tailpipes and the Roundel emblem on the trunk!  But still, again, the 7-series masks the bulk so darn well!

After enduring this car’s E65 forefather for far too many years, let’s enjoy this lightly Bangled section of surfacing.

Even the drip rail is a stunning piece of integration. Calculus books are jealous.

The third brake light (CHMSL) is eye-catching for all the right reasons.  Then again, for the price, it should be swathed in Alcantara. That would be sweet.

The marker lights don’t quite line up with the tailpipes, but perhaps that’s one reason the rear end doesn’t look especially gigantic: it visually breaks up your sight lines. In a good way.

Thank you all for reading, have a great week.

Because we all need to save designers from creating design nightmares such as the VW Routan. The weatherstripping is reason enough to become a design entrepreneur à la Mike Chan.  From one CCS person to another, best of luck to you, Mike.

Why not put a VW front end on a Chrysler minivan?  My time at CCS tells me it can happen, but why it must never!  My MBA understands why the beast was born.  From here, quite honestly, the unique sheet metal isn’t the least bit offensive.  While VW’s rounded design language fights the boxy chassis of a proper van, there’s enough tumblehome to match the hood bulge and flared bumper elements. And without a front license plate, the deep chin and thrusting nose is somewhat appealing.

And while Brooke Shields’ presence made the VW of minivans far more appealing for most suburban men, the Routan is actually quite beautiful from this angle. Try to disagree with me, you cannot!

Still quite a looker, but the obvious BMW E60 5-series homage in the lighting pods is a bit much for me.  Then again, these look better than the originals, adding far more refinement to each hunk of plastic than Bangle’s baby.

A premium German Chrysler Minivan with no fog lights?  Oops.

Wait…a premium German Chrysler Minivan with a whip antenna?  Actually that’s not the problem, I got beef with the execution: the need for a large negative area to fit the aerial is proof that this design was a quick and dirty affair.  If we still must use whip antennas, let’s just slap them right on the fender like an old school Ford Aerostar.

And why is there a fake crease near that antenna? Honestly, I have no clue.

Oh boy, that’s a big hunk of DLO fail. Let’s go back again to the Ford Aerostar for the correct answer: a hunk of glass in lieu of the black plastic triangle with chrome trimmings. Then again, why can’t all vans be like the concept and (original) production Pontiac Trans Sport?  Was being that modern, that radical really so bad? That design needed refinement, not abandonment.

Not much to see here, this is just a regular van. Except for the well-integrated rail for the sliding door: putting this unattractive element at the base of the greenhouse with the rear glass does a fantastic job in cleaning up the package.  Chrysler pioneered the minivan’s rail integration back in 1996, and everyone followed suit shortly after. So maybe that’s why VW wanted one for themselves?

I wish the door handle’s cut lines were as blocky as the rest of the van, but that’s a minor nit to pick. The uninterrupted, door track free, quarter panel is much appreciated. More to the point: shove it, Honda Odyssey.

The plastic trim overlap on the C-pillar looks horrible.  The majority of vehicles have uninterrupted top window frames/rails for a reason.  This looks counter-intuitive and downright cheap.

Another element of the 1996 Chrysler minivans (among others of the era) that I truly adored was the smooth transition from bumper to tailgate. The Routan seemingly has a worse bumper-tailgate motion than its Caravan brother, even the now-extinct Chevy Venture and Ford Freestar were superior in this regard.  Minivans were so much prettier 20 years ago!  I never cared for flannel shirts and The Spice Girls, but now I do miss the 1990s.

Whoops, let’s step forward for a moment: these racks are impossibly low to the roof.  I’m sure this helps aerodynamics, but good luck keeping the roof scratch-free when strapping down luggage to it. I’d like taller ones with a quick release feature…but I’m certain that’d never make production!

These taillights have the same circular theme of the VW Beetle analyzed before, but there’s less real estate to make them suitably spectacular.  As such, they look half-hearted.  Why fight the box?  Either make Ford Aerostar style lights (eliminating the useless bit on the tailgate) or re-think the genre like the original Trans Sport.

I’m not a Chrysler, I’m a gen-u-wine Vee-dub!  Can’t you see it in my eyes and my big chrome nose, son? No amount of Vaseline on the lens can fix this.

Note how weak-kneed this lense’s contouring is…compared to the new Beetle. It’s further proof that some brands can’t extend themselves very far from their core offerings.

Let’s end on a high note!  The CHMSL (third brake light) is a rather slick affair.  I like how it’s integrated into the rear spoiler, forming a hard but clean negative area.  The black sensor thing in the negative area is somewhat well done: I doubt there’s a better place for it on a normal production van, but a flush mount woulda been pretty trick.

And with that, thanks for reading and have a great week!

I mean Nissan Leaf.  You’ll have to forgive me for seeing the similarity between the two, in spirit, historical context and on the Vellum.

The Leaf embodies many of the (un)loved traits of modern cars, but adds the element of a compact Euro-Asian people mover in terms of its proportioning. Which unloved trait do we see here? Gigantic chromey lights! The look is, well, positively electric. (snort)

While hard to tell in a brutally hot lunchtime photo shoot, this emblem is a bizarre blue-tinted chrome affair.  If this car wasn’t 100% electric-powered, I’d hate it.  But since the Leaf is all electro-juice, the symbolism is quite delicious.  In a very, very subtle manner.

As you probably already know, this is a “fuel door” of sorts, to plug-in the Leaf and recharge its batteries. The presentation is worthy of a gourmet meal at an overpriced restaurant. Nice job, Leaf Brand Management Team!

Design elements on this curious little vehicle are actually quite well-integrated.  The honeycomb grille doesn’t look cheap, the subtle folds in the plastic bumper harmonize with the design elements presented here and the chrome trim isn’t an afterthought. If I told you this was a Lexus, would you believe me?

Once again, I really enjoy how the bends/folds in this design integrate into the package, reducing “visual” bulk from this obviously tall and tipsy looking vehicle.

While nearly impossible to photograph in this setting, the hard crease here is especially interesting, at least on a black paint job.

Born from jets?  While not the 1950s space age tailfins, this (admittedly oversized and Chevy Avalanche-like) plastic casting definitely makes you realize there’s no conventional powertrain underneath.  We don’t need no stinkin’ cowl vents for engine cooling!

I wish the Leaf’s headlights looked this slim, modern and sexy from every angle.  This is a car from the not-too-distant future!

WTF is this, son?  An absolute waste of real estate, and not in the cool chrome tailfin trim kinda way.  To emulate a cool tailfin, the headlights must taper down quicker as they reach the front doors.  Or maybe this hunk of plasti-chrome need not exist: round the end of the headlight like a MINI/500/911/Beetle and put the turn signal in a less gaudy assembly.

You know that any people mover with these proportions and chassis hard points will need a hunk of glass to avoid the Black Plastic Triangle syndrome, but you don’t expect this: a round theme on the sideview mirror base emulated in the glass tinting. Very cool!  Also note the side window defogger’s feng shui like location perfection.

Alternative fuel vehicles normally have super-sleek wheels to minimize drag, so I am a little surprised to see such large holes on the Leaf’s hoops. Then again, the flat face probably helps more than you’d imagine…but I’d prefer the 1970s modernist perfection of the rims found on the last-gen Honda Civic Hybrid.

Small, stylish and voluptuous.  I like the Leaf’s “hips” as the belt line fluidly moves upward, skyward.  It reminds me of the similarly goofy profile of the 1974 Ford Gran Torino sedan, but with less real estate and almost no overhang.  Which is why the Rambler analogy makes far more sense. This is a small car that looks distinctly familiar…yet not so much!

Mitt Romney would be proud.  If those roof pillars aren’t an homage to the work of his father, I donno what is!  While not classically beautiful, the Leaf is a Lenny-Kravitz-retro alternative fuel Rock Star!

Too bad about the black plastic triangle.  I really wish the door glass and extended all the way back, like the Rambler from whence it came. Sure that’d be stupid retro like the glasses on Stephanie Courtney’s character in the TV show Mad Men, but why the hell not?  This ain’t no Nissan Altima!

But when pairing the side with the rear, you see something un-retro: very cool and collected taillights.  So cool in fact, that I wish the headlights emulated their slender and sleek profile. This rig must be unmistakable at night, in a very good way.

We may never see a vehicle this comfortable with itself ever again. While the Leaf is unabashedly tall, the taillights keep the CUV references at bay.  They make you proud to have a tall vehicle, because it might be just as hip as owning a MINI Cooper.  And the rear bumper?  Sure it’s a massive beast like every other car out there, but the strong downward plunge of the lights almost makes it look like a toned and fit plastic form!

Pictures don’t do it justice, there’s more surface tension back here than you can imagine. And unlike the front, it’s not so much because of creases and harsh bends.

Although here’s one harsh bend that is hard to hate: the taillights absolutely make the Nissan Leaf.  When’s the last time you could say that about a new car?

More blue-chrome goodness.  Even better, the grab handle has a rather excellent casting that allows for an integral backup camera. Eat your heart out, Lincoln MKZ.

I mentioned the surface tension present in the rear, and perhaps this strong fold at the corner of the bumper is one reason why. Such is the beauty of a black body in harsh sunlight.

Wait…no plastic inserts or gaudy tailpipes?  Obviously no on the latter, but the former is a pleasant surprise: sometimes lighting elements should slip into a body and never draw attention to themselves.  Reflectors are one such light. Too bad the front’s side markers didn’t learn from the same master.

The clear CHMSL (i.e. high mounted stop light) is obviously needed to complement the taillights, but whatever lies above it is a wonderful conversation piece.  The not-uniform diamond pattern is very, very eye-catching but difficult to spot from afar.

What is it? I don’t know, but they did a fantastic job designing it. Perhaps I should grab the press packet that came with this vehic…LULZ, OH WAIT I DON’T GET PRESS CARS, SON!!!

Thanks for reading, have a wonderful weekend.

I suspect a fair bit of cursing, especially for the poor souls tasked with the aforementioned Lincoln. And while badge engineering is a vital (yet terrifying) part of the game, me thinks the designers at VW had more leverage, more money and way more fun making this ride. Because the roof proves it.

A good car schnoz needs some sort of thrust.  Perhaps it is the swept back thrust of any car with a long hood and curvy fenders. Or maybe the pointy forward action of many sedans: to visually reduce the extra frontal area of modern machines. The CC goes forward nicely, as the upper grille and lower fog light trim point to vanishing points beyond the bumper. The bumper, fenders and headlights follow suit…quite logically.

Yup, that’s pretty pointy. The CC’s rather toothy grin is sinister from this shot. The headlight design adds more complexity to the curves, so let’s dig deeper.

There’s a dazzling array of LED, HID and conventional lighting presented here. Each element demands a unique look to perform to their engineering specs, and I like how they all blended into an assembly that is cohesive, forward thrusting and very eye-catching.

And from the top, where most of us see them, these lights have a much cleaner look.  It’s very German. Even better, it still conveys the forward thrust of the entire front fascia.

Damn camera phone.  Washed out or no, you see how the forward thrust of the front end (witnessed by the profile of the headlights) turns into sweeping lines. Some go up (beltline and DLO daylight opening) and others go down (roof, decklid). The whole package is fluid. Most importantly, the CC doesn’t look as tall as a CUV: say that three times fast!

Combined with modest chrome trimmings and the requisite large hoops, the CC projects an upscale demeanor, as a downmarket Mercedes CLS.  Well duh, you already knew that!

No black plastic triangles!  Thank goodness for German engineering and design harmony.  My only beef is the massive A-pillar, thanks to the low cutline.  The CC would flow better if that line started at the base of the windshield and gently/naturally landed at the base of the DLO.  Some designers make it work by the pure talent in their hand/wrist muscles…others use a curve template not unlike the plastic thingies in a Spirograph game. Either way works.

This B-pillar is just way too thick.  I’m sure there’s a good reason why, but it takes away from the package…in terms of styling.  Too bad about that.

Another DLO that avoids black plastic triangles!  Some design team obviously had a lot of money and plenty of time to make a unique roofline!  The curves are just about perfect: when you frame any “four door coupé” in this manner, things get downright beautiful.  Which makes me lust for the renaissance of coupes a little less…NOT!

Do you feel the thrusting lines speeding to the CC’s hind quarters? Also note the subtle tension between the hard bends in the sheetmetal…dare I proclaim this as a coke bottle figure? I probably dare not.

My big letdown from the side: these static and dowdy door handles.  I wish they had more up-down or left-right flow, combined with negative area (where your fingers go) that looked less like a cartoonish smile.  A good benchmark for my opinion lies in the Mercedes CLS and the last two generations of E-class. VW obviously spent a ton of cash on the roof, too bad they couldn’t make a business case for complementary portal openers.

Then again, look at that photographer dude’s massive forehead.  WTF does he know about looking cool or anything else?

Combine the coupé roof line with a touch of tumblehome and the hard crease above the door handle and this is most certainly a nice bit of Sedan Porn. At such a reasonable price…compared to an Aston Martin Rapide!  I even like the symmetric integration of the fuel filler door into the equation.

The facelifted taillights really make the CC shine.  I never cared for the static circles/ovoids of the last model, they detracted from the package. The new lenses sport complementary shapes and a linear theme that adds a dash of excitement to the posterior.  Kinda like going to a churrascaria instead of an ordinary steak house when you need a good slab of beef. Kinda sorta.

Not a big fan of the black trim below the rear glass.  While I understand that solid glass is pointless and costly on a roofline this fast, perhaps instead the trunk needs to extend to cover this gap? This just looks…well, cheap.

Note how (most of) the lines inside the light visually extend to a vanishing point somewhere in the middle of the trunk.  It’s a nice extension of the theme created by the headlights.  Again, a wonderful improvement over the original CC.

Much like the hide-away trunk locks of yesteryear, I encourage hiding stuff under an emblem. And this VW door/rear camera holder/whatever else is pretty frickin’ awesome. Some ideas never go out of style! Or at least they never should.

Here’s a cost cutting concession I do admire.  Instead of one hunk of chrome, this three-piece wraparound unit ensures you never replace a large trim item because of accident damage to the bumper’s rounded corners. I’m sure insurance companies also approve.

This is my biggest problem with the CC, as it’s cheap and easy to avoid. Why is the VW emblem so large that it demands a hood relief?  Plus, it’s sticking forward and generally not minding its own business.  Car badges are stalking sheet metal like your ex does all over Facebook.  I long for the day when badge engineering (literally, that is) takes a page from the “Less is More” school of thought.

The CC is quite a lovely and classy machine for the somewhat average car buyer, so why did VW give it a gigantic wart in the shape of their corporate logo?

Thanks for reading, have a great week.

Or do stereotypes exist for a reason? Like the beliefs held about the vehicle in question?

The newest VW Beetle reminds me of that old “Design School Sajeev.”  This Vee-Dub wants a change of pace from the stereotypes, and it’s done a fine job. After all, it spent far too much time as a stereotypical girly car…it needed a touch of beefcake for the next redesign.

Two worlds collide: the soft and girly demeanor of the Beetle remains, but there’s a nod to toned muscle in the bumper’s lower half.  The nose is downright chiseled! And while the Beetle should never have a “Bunkie Beak” like the works of Mr. Kundsen, adding some tonal quality to the Beetle’s otherwise undefined bumper is a thoughtful touch. Even better, the muscles have a bit of chrome trimming that gives it an-oh-so subtle smile.

The foglights integrate nicely into that smile.  And the bumper looks even better from a lower view.  Children will love this.  I imagine it saying “Hi” like the advertisements for the original Dodge Neon. It is undeniably cute, but not nearly as prissy as before.

Thrusting forward.  The front clip itself is more than a little manly while the squared off, beveled hood adds more definition than before.

The Beetle’s schnoz is definitely growing up in the same manner as our first Vellum Venom subject: the Porsche 911. Check them both out from this angle.

The headlight’s eyelids are a little touch of retro flair that I truly adore.  They are super-duper brand honest, and integrate very well into the headlight’s overall design.  I love it when custom touches from the aftermarket receive a hat-tip from the OEMs, decades later. Nice job!

And the layers, textures and bullet like thrust of this lighting appendage work nicely with the bumper’s imagery.  It’s about time that our love of plastic headlight castings really highlighted a brand, a model, or a design studio’s creativity.  I first noticed it on the uber-pricey headlights of my HID-equipped Lincoln Mark VIII…and now it is everywhere! Technology FTW!

Yes indeed, the bumper is squared off and tougher, but the same is true for the green house.  Note the hard, not organic bend in the A-pillar at the roof.  This leads to a roofline that is no longer Astrodome-like.  Which is far more mature than the last Beetle. Also note the bigger, meatier door. Even the fenders look a bit, well, hunkier?

Someone with more design experience than myself should chime in: what is this center panel called?  It’s not a fender, or a hood. Rather, it is a cowl cover. Whatever, this hunk of metal that covers the cowl has three dynamic cut lines and one very, very static line.  I would aim the cowl/A-pillar/Door seam with a downward trajectory so it hits the base of the DLO (daylight opening) instead. This gives a little more flow and excitement from up close. Maybe even from a distance!

Oh, and congrats for not having DLO FAIL with pointless black triangles.  This is one time where German engineering and Design can rightfully claim a victory.

My apologizes to the VW fanbois, as I can’t remember the name of the original wheel design that inspired this hoop.  You’d see this black and silver wheel spoke on everything from Beetles, Buses, 911s and 914s in the 1970s, and they translate well into the Dub generation.  My only beef is the interrupted outer rim, those slots need to be pushed back so the design can “breathe” a bit.  Job well done still, and I like the side marker’s matching curves against the wheel arches.

While I didn’t photograph a Bug with the retro wheels of the base model, I found them oversized and therefore out of proportion.  Big discs are a pleasant nod to the past, but these Turbo wheels work better.

I assume this bodyside molding seeks to emulate the original’s classic running boards, and I guess that’s cool.  I woulda gone more retro, with a fluted/ribbed top and a matte black finish. This is one time where if you’re wanna stick out, you might as well be LOUD and PROUD…son!

Like the hood bevel, the green house sports a hard recess around its perimeter.  While I think the bevel is too long/deep at the quarter window, this is a significant improvement over the previous New Beetle.  Now this roof is stylish, not soft. Perhaps rear seat headroom also improved, from the looks of it.

I quite like the meeting of quarter panel, fender and hatchback: the lines are fast and a touch on the muscular side. The Turbo’s spoiler helps too, in a proto-911 kinda way.  The biggest improvement from this shot is most certainly the taillights. The dull, flat and fruity circles from the last model are history, now the Bug has a bit of deep and complex techo-industrial chic from the rear. And their larger size is in better proportion with the rest of the package.

If there was a bit more tumblehome (google it) to the green house, we’d have a more honest Beetle.  Then again, whatever I am seeing here doesn’t look like a stereotypical Bug.  It looks like a bad ass little compact car.

I wish the spoiler extended further down the hatch, and stuck further out.  It would be a good “F U” to the rest of the world, adding to the masculinity seen elsewhere on the coachwork.

The rear bumper continues the theme from the front, deeper/lower and more masculine.  Also note the squared off hatch corners with a hard bevel. Combined with the fender’s ability to give the Beetle more tumblehome than actually available, you have a mature redesign of an absolutely childish original.  And with the bigger taillights in the right proportion, can I call this wee beastie a “Butch Machine” and get away with it?

Back to my deep and complex techo-industrial chic remark: these lighting pods are such an improvement over the previous design.  Note the prominent “U” theme, complete with clear lights with the same vanishing point. The design is rich and deep in these pods, and they point to a well executed little vehicle. While not the cheapest small car on the planet–or especially reliable, in TTAC’s Piston Slap terms–this new VW Beetle simply appeals to me in every place where the original failed. This one is totally okay for a manly-man type of dude to own.

And thank goodness neither of us went to “Medical School.”

Thanks for reading and have a great week.

“You were so right about the smoothing out of the Cruze front end and getting rid of the small fake DLO plastic piece in front.  This car looks WAYYYY different and more Toyota-like with some of the changes you suggested. – JH”

Now imagine Josh’s changes with a bow tie in the center and we are done. This “Vellum Venom Cruze” looks Acura-like, a bit more BMW E36-like and much like any other classically proportioned sports sedan from the modern era. But wait, we aren’t done re-designing this little hit from the big General. Hit the jump for another rendering of Epic Win.

Damn, son!  Aside from the possible lack of widening(?), that’s the exact grille I wanted!

This submission was from TTAC’s own sinistermisterman.  Note the softer edges in this grille’s rendering–compared to Josh–and the crossbar added at a lower position, allowing for a smooth hood cut line and parity with the headlights.  Parity! And while Mr. Sinister didn’t incorporate a re-think of the DLO fail, it’s pretty clear that both members of the B&B understand what I regularly demand:  proportion and ATD (Attention to Detail) über alles.

What do you think of both “Vellum Venom Cruze” concepts, Best and Brightest?

And of course, here’s the original photo for comparison.

When my freshman year Transportation Design class at CCS was tasked for a third world mode for transport, the teacher chose one country in particular: India.  Luckily, since I’ve regularly visited that nation and know a tad bit more about it than most car designers…well, I thought I’d nail this one.  Because who in India (circa 1998, and still to this day) can afford a car? Rich people, not the masses with no hope of education and/or career advancement…they stick with their feet or perhaps a motorcycle.  Sad, but true.

Would a car maker risk billions in stockholder equity in making a people’s car that ignores the “vehicular reality” of a particular country?  I think not.  And well before the TATA NANO, I tried to do that: super cheap and cute/ugly design sketches designed around an aspirational point: the 4-door sedan.  And sometimes the most formal Three Box Sedan. Because when I think of pushing the envelope in terms of design culture, I think of several other democracies before India.

Unfortunately, my NANO like creations were awful in the eyes of everyone else. I wasn’t trying hard enough at all.  Which is fair, if the teacher never suggested that we research the country…socio-economic conditions make just about every piece of Design School masturbation absolutely irrelevant. And quite possibly, stupid enough to bankrupt a car maker.

You pay a driver to do things for you, would you really want to sit with him?  Absolutely not! This ain’t no damn school, this is Vellum Venom.  Case in point, the Internationally designed and suitably conservative Chevy Cruze sedan.

There are elements that work very well here, most notably the headlights’ strong “brow” against the hood and front bumper.  My problem is the corporate branding of the Chevrolet grille onto the Daewoo body: it’s so big that it crosses the natural boundary between grille and hood, giving the nose a top-heavy and tipsy appearance. Chevy’s trademark split grille needs the bowtie lowered about 3″, so the hood can “breathe” and clean up the package.

To make things worse, the grille looks even taller because it’s too narrow.  If the grille extended to the same end points as the lower valance’s grille, we’d have a far more upscale motor.  We’d have a serious threat to all those conservative Corollas. And we do want to beat the Corolla, right?

Yup, a tall and clumsy grille.  And even from this angle you see how the grille’s top-tier becomes like eyebrows on one’s face.  In the case of the Cruze, it has eyebrows attached to the top of its forehead.  And that’s just not pretty.

The eyebrow analogy not jive with you?  Well, take a gander from here.  Imagine if the grille ended at the same height of the headlights!  Wow, it’d be a beauty!

The chrome detailing on this top drawer LTZ model is pretty cool, if a bit corny and obviously tacked on.  But at this price, who cares?  It’s an eye catcher for all the right reasons.

ADHD moment: the honeycomb treatment on this signal light is quite appealing. It gets the job done without resorting to cliché over styling, which happens far too often in cars that need to look more expensive than their window sticker suggests.

Speaking of, these new Chevy badges have some great material and texture selection going on. While the camera doesn’t do it justice, it makes me more than a little proud of this brand. Ford, Honda, Toyota, Hyundai and the others all have pretty junky brand tributes in comparison.

From this angle, perhaps the grille is acceptable, but the headlights are too short. One of them needs to match the other, because the more you see of the Cruze’s side profile, the more you see a well designed compact car.

Fender. A-pillar. Door. Hood.  They all look horrible butting up to each other in this manner!  While that’s far from ideal, the black plastic triangle is just twisting the knife. I feel more venom oozing out of my wound.

Black triangle in full effect = DLO FAIL!

On the plus side, at least the triangle makes sense with the door cut line.  No wait, that’s still not acceptable. The Cruze would look upscale (so to speak) and downright lovely if the plastic side view mirror holder (and door cut line) was shaped to eliminate the triangle of DLO FAIL.

The RS appearance package is a little silly, but the stick on body-kit is far, far superior to the awful Tupperware they glue to the Corolla “S” model. Plus, I do like the upscale RS badging, even if the irony of such a boldly American trim designation used on a Daewoo design is a little depressing.

Hey wait…are those Michelins on a compact General Motors product?  Maybe the RenCen is taking the Civic and Corolla seriously this time ’round.

I do my best to avoid interior design analysis in this series, but you can see how the greenhouse complements the dashboard from this angle.  It’s very appealing from the outside, and those of us who’ve experienced the Cruze can certainly appreciate it from the inside too. Kudos to the Interior Design folks, they integrated the form very, very well.

Oh my (expletive).   The black plastic triangle shows up once again, this time trying way too hard to extend the Cruze’s DLO into the territory of a more upscale vehicle. Once again, it doesn’t work.

What was the right move?  Add a little more “hip” to the straight-edged door cut line, going up to a more hourglass shape as it reached the DLO.  From there, the rear door glass can elegantly continue the hourglass shape. The smooth curve will look good in both glass and the nearby sheet metal of the C-pillar…thus eliminating the hideous FAIL you see here.

Oh my damn…son!

They even tried to mask this triangle’s hideousness with a bit of chrome trim extension and a contrast texture in the center.  If you have to add chrome to your DLO FAIL, perhaps you are being penny wise and pound foolish. Redesign the rear door contour to make this thing unnecessary instead!

Trust me, eliminating something instead of adding chrome is far, far cheaper! Or not.

This angle normally makes the black plastic triangle look more acceptable.  But this one is so large that any angle is helpless to the cause. Ignore the impossible to close gas cap, this is a rental..and shit happens to rental cars.  Instead notice the clean, unmolested lines separated by only one hard-edged crease.

And while I nailed the CTS-V for its terrible gas cap location, the Cruze’s round door with a hard bend isn’t nearly as offensive as the slimy egg look.  Matter of fact, it’s a cool bit of surface tension.

If it wasn’t for that hideous plastic triangle, this would be an absolutely lovely machine. Of this I am certain.

From here I make another case for a shorter deck, more overhang and less of a fastback C-pillar.  This would eliminate the bumper’s “double chin” and the need for, once again, the black plastic triangle.  And I also hope that one day we don’t need chrome license plate mustaches, as they are totally played out and always look tacked-on.

The way the tail lights play into the bumper’s hard downward slope and the smart-looking cut line of the trunk is quite appealing. This isn’t an amorphous blob like so many other tail light designs in this class, it actually works very, very well!

Seriously folks, the chrome mustache needs to die a quick, yet very painful death. It looks tacky and absolutely ruins a lot of hard work done to the Cruze’s rear surfacing.   I like the extra chrome trim at the bottom, even though it reinforces the fact that this bumper is too tall…because this butt is too tall.

And I’ll let you mull over the contrast of Chevy’s somewhat famous LTZ trim level sharing real estate with the very famous RS trim level.  In the Cruze’s case, RS is just as much of an afterthought as the Corolla “S”.  And I think that’s an insult, to a certain extent.

I don’t much care for it, but perhaps someone in the B&B will prove me wrong in the comments section.

Make note: this kind of trimming is cheap and cheerful, perfect for a car in this price class. When you see gigantic hunks of plastic and/or afterthought chrome accents on vehicles costing far more than a Cruze, like perhaps a Cadillac CTS-V Coupe, it is absolutely inexcusable.  But here, yes…it should bring a smile to your face.

Because I am smiling, and you should too.

Thanks for reading. Have a great week.

Back to the Venom on the Vellum. As to the Mustang-Aston Martin connection, don’t sweat it: the original Pony car ripped off other designs for its unique take on Americana. So I welcome the future AMM, or Aston Martin Mustang!

The dirty little secret is that the Mustang never was unique. The original riffed on Edsel Ford’s dream of making a “Continental” themed coupe with a long hood and short deck; the Ford Falcon’s wheelbase adjustment proves the point. Hell, even the kick-up under the quarter windows was a blatant rip-off of the Continental Mark II.  The next small Mustang, the Mustang II, was every tacky bit of 1970′s personal luxury on the same theme. The Mustang III (Fox) made no bones about its Mercedes SLC influence and European influenced aerodynamics.  So who gives a shit about an Aston Martin Mustang (AMM)?

I must admit that I love the changes to the new Mustang, even if they are too subtle. A weekend of liposuction was needed, but the chrome grille frame, clear signal lenses (???), extra negative area in the front bumper and lump-free hood on this baseline V6 model does a fantastic job cleaning up the look. It’s no minimalist Fox, but this Mustang  does a better job emulating the original’s tasteful theme.

The Mustang has a great trapezoidal theme about it, all stemming from a centerline on the bumper. I think the new bumper just accentuates these trapezoids, as they seem larger and more focused on complementing the grilles’ shape.  Then again, perhaps I need to see old and new together to really know.

Wait, why are the block off plates on the grille spaced out in this manner?  Was someone playing Connect Four while in the Alias (software program) studio lab? Then again, I must admit the golfball dimples do help take away from the cheapness of it all.

As with any mild, mid-cycle redesign, the Mustang looks about the same as you turn the corner. Not necessarily a bad thing, even if many of this platform’s detractors wish this was more of a pure Pony car and not a bloated, steroid-infused Muscle car.

The moment I saw this center cap on an older S197 Mustang, I immediately thought of better days when automakers made really expensive emblems out of things like metal, glass and various plated finishes.  Yes, it’s that good.

The subtle nod to the original Mustang’s fake vent is much appreciated, especially after we had to endure that awful appendage on the 1999-2004 model in the same location. Not just awful, but Pontiac Aztek awful!

Yes, this sheet metal isn’t new for 2013.  But the curvaceous belt line and gentle upkick to the rear of the door does take away from the height of this machine.  Hopefully the new Aston Martin model will have more greenhouse and less body.

And don’t say it cannot be done!  Look at the Toyota/Subaru/Scion sports coupe at this price point, it is totally doable!!!

There’s something about the new rear end treatment that just blows me away.  In a good way.  I like the bulk-distractors surrounding the license plate, and I truly adore the smoky tail light and trunk treatment.  Something about the clean and minimalistic lines harkens back to the 1987-93 Mustang LX 5.0, just not literally. That said, imagine if the fake gas cap went away and the license plate went up there instead?  Very foxy indeed.

Note how I cropped this photo to help you imagine the Mustang as a shorter, sleeker body.  If the exhaust pipes moved up, and as mentioned before, if the license plate replaced the phony gas cap…oh my, I think I need a cold shower!

This is where I normally expect a hunk of black plastic to visually thin the booty, just like the outgoing model.  Nope!  There’s a subtle black plastic insert under a pair of red reflectors.  I assume this not only looks great to you, but makes conversion to Euro-spec lighting a breeze.  If so, kudos to you, Ford. This bodes very well for the future Aston Martin Mustang.

I wish the crease in the quarter panel matched the seam where the bumper meets said hunk of paneling. Integration is a little thing, but that’s what this column is all about!

These pods look even better at night, but they are very futuristic even in the brutal sun of a Houston lunch hour.  I suspect these will age well, just like the cult-classic status butt of a Mustang LX 5.0 notchback.

That’s a rather gigantic cowl to hood trim panel. As much as I’d like to think I know why we’re seeing this, I really don’t know.  But I certainly don’t care for it.  This is more proof why cars need to shrink, and lose pointless, frivolous bulk.

And on that note: the ball is in your court, upcoming Aston Martin Mustang.

Fair warning: I don’t care for any Mustang design after 1994, as the Fox Body Mustang from 79-93 was a surprisingly well designed tribute to the original. The size and spirit were right, with a touch of Mercedes 450SLC in the beginning, and a lot of 1986 Taurus at the end.  The new Mustangs are bloated, half baked, Fat Elvis tributes to the original: a caricature for sure, but doing the bare minimum and hiding under “retro guise” was something I was regularly criticized for in design school. Ouch.

Since my work was less “Fox” and more New Mustang, well, perhaps I really like Shelby’s aggressive take on the Mustang. Just like the 1967 Shelby, this schnoz is far more aggressive and earth hugging than what you get from a regular Pony.

But here’s the fly in the ointment: if you have to block off the grille to accomplish some engineering requirement, your design failed.  This practice needs to end, almost as much as the black triangles made to lengthen the DLO of a greenhouse.  A blocked off grille looks…cheap.

And more blocked off grilles?  Hey, when in Rome…no matter, the chin spoiler looks pretty cool. Perhaps this brick-nosed facade is a smooth operator, as some of the details do look sleek.  Or perhaps I am just a huge fan of terrazzo flooring. Either way, there’s something pretty in this photo.

Oh come on, son!  There are probably several valid reasons to block off the grilles on the front clip, but the hood vents?  How much does this car retail for again?

With the macho-looking charcoal hoops, downward sloping grille with drop jaw bumper speed hole, and the tapered sides clearly seen in the headlight contours, the Shelby GT500 is…well, it’s pretty damn macho. Which is great, especially when you consider the ‘Stang is the smallest and lightest Pony car on the market.

No wait, that’s actually quite depressing.

When you consider this is still an SVT Cobra, do we really need Shelby’s name on it too?  This car is a branding and badging nightmare, compete with the obligatory Brembo stoppers. The marketing people at Brembo really did a good job getting the company name out there.  No matter, the side sculpturing is quite taut,  but the horrendously chunky (soon to be chalky?) side skirting needs a re-think.

I love how the A-pillar, door and fender all meet at a logical place, looking sleek in the process. The side view mirrors sport a forward leaning profile much like the front schnoz. It looks mighty fine.  Then again, if the Mustang had a lower beltline and a taller greenhouse, I betcha these appendages wouldn’t need to be so darn large.

This is arguably the best part of the 2005+ Mustang: the deliciously retro C-pillar, reminiscent of the original fastback Mustang.  I love it.

But when you step back…oh my, this is Fat Elvis again.  I see less of the original fastback design and more of a chunky GM colonnade treatment over an almost CUV tall body.

Oops, sorry about the camera phone fail. From here you see the Mustang’s scalloped side treatment between the door and the rear wheel, the colonnade roof and the bandsaw trimmed corners: a clumsy but obvious homage to the Porsche 928.  But bandsawing is a good thing, considering the visual heft of the previous model. The extra thick black chin on the rear bumper also does an admirable job of reducing visual heft.

Even better, how about making a Mustang that’s small to start with?  Then there’s no need to try to make it look sleeker and smaller!

If that thick black turtleneck looking thing didn’t exist, we might have a seriously trim, sleek and sexy Mustang.  Alas, that wasn’t meant to be, for reasons we may never know!

These taillights look great, a styling feature that stands on its own feet.  There’s so much surface tension, complemented by the triangulated lower half.  And since these babies light up sequentially, you’re done: this is a great piece of engineering and design.

Good thing they never made that oversized gas cap in red, as it would make the Mustang look like a clown.  Oh wait, that’s a non-functional tribute to the original’s gas filler…so it actually IS a clown!

Combine the gas cap’s size with the surrounding concave negative area and you get a design feature that’s far too big for its britches. Well maybe not as obnoxious as a Mustang II King Cobra graphics package, but that’s not the point.

Plus, big SHELBY lettering is great for the car show crowd.

Wait…another SVT badge?  If there’s a worse case of “red headed step child” automotive divisions than Ford’s SVT, I’d like to know. Because aside from the wonderful Contour and Focus SVT, these folks always have a far more catchy name attached to their products.  (cough, Lightning…cough, Cobra…cough, Shelby GT500, cough Raptor)

Assuming SVT did the lion’s share of work to make this vehicle, is the Shelby name just another useless bit of retro on the retro Mustang?  I wager a wholehearted guess of “yes”.

Given the interruptions endured by their Japanese arch-rivals, Ford and Chevy  were nearly guaranteed to win the brand volume sweepstakes. But look closer and all is not entirely well at the top of this heap. Ford, the volume leader, grew its overall sales by just 11% last year, in a market that grew 10.3%… in short, Ford didn’t lose any market share, but it didn’t win much either. More troubling for the brand’s long-term prospects, much of that growth came from trucks (up 15.1%), while car volume improved only 3.7%. In short, despite launching a brand-new Focus (which had a disappointing 2011), Ford lost ground in the car game (which grew more slowly than trucks, but nearly matched them for volume). The news was better at GM, where overall sales rose 13.2% on 17.8% car growth and 10.6% truck growth. Still, given the weakness at Honda and Toyota, one would have expected more from a GM that is still rebuilding from its bailout-era downturn.

Toyota and Honda posted similar results, having lost 6.7% and 6.8% volume drops respectively. But Nissan, which recovered far faster from the tsunami and was hit less hard by the Thai flooding, made up for some of their losses, putting a  14.7% volume increase in the Japanese side of the ledger. All three Japanese brands lost volume on their luxury brands, however, bowing before the German onslaught. And though Toyota’s losses were evenly-distributed by vehicle type, both Honda and Nissan relied on truck sales (including non-BOF CUVs) to boost volume. More importantly, the qualitative weaknesses of newly-launched products from Honda and Toyota helped fuel a sense of Japanese downturn that could prove to outlast any impacts of 2011′s natural disasters… but only time will tell.

With Detroit’s offerings enjoying the benefit of comparisons to their ignominious predecessors and new Japanese products enduring the exact opposite, Detroit’s market share growth continues to be mysteriously stalled. Chrysler’s turnaround continues apace, with 26.2% corporate volume growth, but with truck volume dropping in an otherwise strong market for the segment, profits will not grow commensurately. And a 66% increase in car sales growth looks a lot less impressive when you realize that its car sales were a mere 354,359 units… which is fewer than VW/Audi sold in the same period.

So, what happened? Think of the current Republican presidential nomination process as a parallel: Instead of the long-running pitched war between Detroit’s “Big Two” and Japan’s “Big Two”, the market is fragmenting, creating a thick pack of contenders rather than clear winners and losers. Hyundai/Kia enjoyed 26.5% combined growth on record volume. Nissan began to emerge as a rising power after decades of playing catch-up to Honda and Toyota. Volkswagen began its new value-oriented volume blitz, growing VW-branded car volume 29.4%. 44% growth at Jeep propelled Chrysler up and away from unsustainable volumes. Even Mitsu and Volvo posted some of the biggest volume percentage gains, up 41.9% and 24.6% respectively. The days of Toyota-Honda-GM-Ford dominance seem to be coming to an end, forcing brutal battles for every tiny sliver of growth.

Things have not changed dramatically in the truck world over the last year. Though truck volume outstripped car volume by nearly 400k units and though truck sales growth outstripped car sales growth, those gains largely came on the back of non-BOF CUVs. My analysis on the truck front has changed little since I wrote about The Great American Downsizing, and the new CAFE regulations that came out this year show that the days of BOF truck/SUV dependence for any manufacturer are coming to an end. On the car front, the action has been in the compact/midsized arena, the former of which is unsurprisingly exhibiting the wealth of solid options and killer competition that is beginning to define this industry. As 2012 unfolds, I’ll continue to look at the compact segment as a bellwether for the strength of brands. And with new versions of the Camry and Passat out, new Malibu and Fusion models coming, and an Altima replacement likely waiting in the wings, look for the midsized segment to continue to heat up as well. Meanwhile, with the luxury sedan segment essentially treading water, nearly all of the Japanese and American brands will need to dig deep to fend off the German takeover of the market.

The best news coming out of 2011 was that North American-sourced vehicles continued their strong turnaround. Fueled by Japan’s Yen crisis, the weak dollar and overseas natural disasters, insourcing of US sales picked up pace after a decade of precipitous declines. And given the larger trends in the industry, this dynamic should continue as production flees Japan… at least until Chinese imports gain acceptance in the marketplace. Given that this trend is being driven by foreign brand insourcing rather than a resurgence of sales from Detroit, it seems clear that the prospects for US auto industry employment have improved independently of the bailout. Though GM and Chrysler would not have survived this long without government intervention, and though they seem to have stabilized, there’s little to indicate that either GM or Chrysler is en route to juggernaut status in the US market (and GM could well take a PR and sales hit if the government exits its “investment” with a taxpayer loss).

Of course there is much more to analyzing 2011′s sales results than volume alone… from pricing to incentives, from fleet sales to inventory, there are a million qualifiers to the volume numbers that I simply don’t have the data to analyze effectively. Luckily TrueCar, which looks at as much data as anyone, has released a grade sheet for the industry by manufacturer and by brand. And the results there seem to reinforce my perception of 2011: an inevitable loss by the Japanese, and not much momentum gained by Detroit. In short, 2011 appears to have been the year of the insurgent brand (with the notable exception of Subaru, which saw its share peak in 2009-10 and is now falling off), and the opening of a new, more competitive chapter in the US market. This bodes well for consumers, who can anticipate better vehicles over the next product cycle or two, but it also foreshadows another shakeout further down the road. And this time it seems just as likely that Honda or Toyota could find themselves knocked out of the top tier as Ford or GM. In short, there’s never been a more exciting time to be watching the US auto market.

With full sales numbers reported for July, TTAC is proud to announce its first-ever auto analyst grades [analyst estimates via Bloomberg]. For now we’re simply grading SAAR projections, but we’ve included OEM projections where applicable, for your own comparison. For July, the top-rated analyst was Edmunds.com’s Jessica Caldwell, whose SAAR prediction was an uncanny .5% off the actual number. Congratulations to Jessica and the Edmunds team, as well as our other A-rated analysts, Rod Lache of Deutsche Bank and Peter Nesvold of Jefferies (who squeaked in with an A-). Hit the jump to see how we calculated our grades.

Here’s how the grading works: we calculate the percentage each analyst’s projection was off by and grade on the following scale:

<1% = A+
1%-2% = A
2%-3% = B
3%-4% = C
4%-5% = D
>5% = F

And at least for July, there’s evidence that our grade scale is a good one: the panel of analysts averaged a mid-to-high C, and there were only two Fs and one D. Be sure to check back next month, when we will again grade the panel of analysts in hopes of establishing a running track record.