Across The Block Spotlight: 1982 Phillips Berlina At Mecum Kansas City
It seems that I’m not good at handicapping auctions. I’m sure it’s a skill that can be acquired through practice and repetition. But between the drudgery of a day job and wrangling a pair of kids, in-depth sales analysis will always get pushed to the back burner.
Still, exploring a single interesting car is never a problem. Maybe call it a Digestible Auctionable?
As I digitally strolled through the over six hundred lots offered this weekend at Mecum’s Kansas City sale, today’s 1982 Phillips Berlina stopped me cold, returning me to my teenage years and, of all things, my cheap toy-store mountain bike.
I rode that thing everywhere. As a socially incompetent fat kid, much of my spare time was dedicated to seeking distraction. My trips to Dairy Queen, the convenience store, and the library followed a path that took me past decaying cars I dreamed of owning. The rotting Austin 1100 and sagging Triumph TR7 were fine dreams of their own, but one seemingly abandoned fast-lube garage always had a white classic peeking through a glass workbay door.
I always assumed it was an Excalibur, or perhaps a Zimmer — the only neo-classics I knew of in those pre-Web days — but I’m thinking now that it was a Phillips Berlina like this one. Nostalgia is a helluva drug, which explains this car, as well as my immediate attraction.
According to the defunct-but-Wayback-Machine-accessible berlinacoupe.net, Phillips Motor Car of Pompano Beach, Florida built these Berlinas, inspired by prewar Mercedes-Benz 540Ks. Built on a stretched version of the then-current Corvette C3 chassis and wearing a retro fiberglass body, the Berlina was a $80,000 car at a time when a new ‘Vette stickered around $20,000. Unsurprisingly, fewer than 90 were sold.
This one wears a magnificent two-tone brown finish (hi, Sajeev!), and looks basically new on the outside. The leather interior, mostly borrowed from the Corvette, looks similarly clean, though the deep-pile carpets look discolored. If one were so inclined to drive it often, it shouldn’t be a challenge to keep running considering the readily available GM running gear.
I don’t know that I can even hazard an intelligent guess on the Phillips Berlina. Do I price it like the Corvette underneath? Or base it off the original MSRP? Mecum doesn’t list an estimate, so I’m completely in the dark. Let’s say $55,000. It’s not like I have anything riding on it.
Utter crap.
Seriously, this makes me wonder why I’m even doing this. It doesn’t help when the RM estimate in three of the four examples I chose was less than half the eventual selling price. Did a pair of recent lottery winners descend upon Milan with a massive car hauler?
RM estimate: 10,000-12,000 EUR
My guess: 14,000 EUR
Selling price: 26,880 EUR
RM estimate: 20,000-30,000 EUR
My guess: 45,000 EUR
Selling price 95,200 EUR
RM estimate: 35,000-40,000 EUR
My guess: 30,000 EUR
Selling price: 63,840 EUR
RM estimate: 1,500-3,000 EUR
My guess: 400 EUR and/or a wheel of cheese
Selling price: 2,240 EUR
So, thoughts on this funky fiberglass retro beast? Would you drive it?
[Images: Mecum Auction, Inc.]
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In college I had a friend whose dad had an Excalibur. It was something to behold. He bought his kids had a 4-speed TransAm and a Corvette, so he had that going for him.
Had a "boss" audition once ; he pointed me in the direction of a pseudoItalianboathullfiberglaswired"vehicle" . Inconveniant indoor parked "car", NO lift, good luck newbie. From what I could tell, the chalk red dust was a true predictor of the not so far future, that THIS kit car,, was never going to "reanimate". The implication was it was supposed to be British, the valve covers were in a Chevrolet style that had been radical in th 50's, made of the finest white metal castings that the James Dean could sell. Wiring and wires hung with impervious disdain from dark recesses of wheel wells, cowls, plastic/resin door "jambs", and where a trunk/hatch might rationally be located, more wires. No sense of wtf happened to the donor car or even WHAT it was. I spent 10 minutes of my life knowing, to my core, this was never going to happen or happen to me again. No, I opened my own shop shortly afterwards instead. That was 1985. The owner of the chalk red British l roadster also owned the shop wanted the car fixed for free. 30 years fast forward, its still sitting.