A few weeks ago, my wife and I diverged from our normal car show routine and attended the rescheduled “Eyes on Design” car show at the Edsel and Eleanor Ford House in Grosse Pointe Shores, MI. This show normally falls on the same June weekend as my favorite car show, Motor Muster at Greenfield Village in Dearborn; therefore, this was my first time attending Eyes on Design. In addition to hundreds of interesting vehicles, I was reacquainted with two Plymouths, ten years apart, that had little in common other than making me fall in love with them.
The first was this beautiful 1956 Belvedere convertible in a wild shade of pink, or more specifically Briar Rose, if one is to believe the color charts. Like many of us, I’ve gone through periods of prolonged “Forward Look” envy where I’ve kept an eye out for any Chrysler product produced during Virgil Exner’s halycon days of the late 1950s, but I’ve been lately focused on other things. Maybe that’s why this Belvedere was such a pleasant surprise: I wasn’t expecting to love it.
After all, its hue is…unique. Secondly, I’ve long wondered what kind of psychology student/rat maze designer came up with the side trim on the ’56 Belvedere, and how anybody in Chrysler’s design department managed to sign off on it. I’ve chalked it up to its being the ’50s – they all did things like that. On this Belvedere, however, I begin to see the plan. The 1955 model’s simpler trim may still be more appealing, but on this particular car, it’s fine. I like it.
The interior is an equally shocking shade, and it also works, with its first-year “pushbutton drive” and bathroom tile masquerading as a door panel. The uneven split bench and uniquely symmetrical instrument panel were mere precursors to the “Populuxe” wackiness that Exner would pull out of his hat over the course of the next six or seven model years.
This was a really nice car, one of my favorites of the event, but it wasn’t the only Plymouth that struck my fancy as a jaded car show regular.
This ’66 Barracuda Formula S was also such a crowd pleaser that I had a hard time taking a picture of it all day. Even though I own a ’65 Dart, I don’t consider myself a huge fan of early Chrysler A-Bodies; let’s just say our interests happened to align one bleak November day when I was powerless to resist its quirkiness. To me, the restyled ’67 Barracuda was a giant improvement over the first-generation model with its giant rear glass. But there’s still a lot of charm to a Formula S with its stripes and its neat wheelcovers and its throaty single exhaust system and its “just right” blend of power and handling.
When I was a kid, I bought a Hot Rod compilation of muscle car era road tests, including a great Eric Dahlquist article about a ’65 Formula S, full of the vivid “living the car life in real time” descriptions that I always enjoyed in his writing. The lead image (pictured above from the actual magazine I bought when I was eight) showed the car mid flight, and from that point on, I had a bit of a soft spot for a striped Formula S.
I prefer the earlier grille treatment on the magazine car, but the red-stripe tires and attractive yet conservative color combination on this ’66 make up for it.
Like any good mid-1960s sporty car, this Formula S has bucket seats and a console, although a four speed would be more fun than the Torqueflite in this example. Its wood(ish) steering wheel adds a little street cred, and Chryslers always had reasonably complete instrumentation (except for the oil pressure warning light on many models, something Dahlquist disparaged in his article).
Considering that the Belvedere and the Barracuda were two of my favorite cars of the day, and they were produced by the same manufacturer, and they were built ten years apart, it seems silly not to evaluate Plymouth’s evolution during that time period. Like most American producers, Plymouth had expanded its line past the “low-priced three,” one-body-fits-all mold of 1956, offering a full line of compacts, intermediate, and full-size models, some even encroaching on the territory of more premium makes. Like Chevrolet with its Caprice, Plymouth copied the LTD by way of its Fury “VIP” (they even went so far as to use a three-letter name – come on, Plymouth). The Barracuda itself wasn’t a Mustang copy, as it was introduced before the Mustang was, but one could say it was a reaction to the Falcon Sprint and the Corvair Monza. Many road testers of the day felt it was the best all-around car of them all, even if it didn’t have the Mustang’s hearty everyman appeal or the Corvair’s vaguely European air.
About the only thing the Belvedere had in common with the Barracuda, however, was its basic rear-drive architecture and engines of similar displacement that shared a bit of family heritage. Oh, and a touch of that quirkiness that made me fall in love with my Dart back in 2013. There were many cars that were more exotic, rarer, and more expensive than these two Plymouths at the Eyes on Design show, but you don’t need to be any of those things to be a knockout.
Interesting choice of cars … I was born in 1956, presumably pink and funny looking for at least a few minutes. By 1966 I was obsessed with cars, but not a huge fan of the “Baccaruda”. And today I’m still going strong, unlike Plymouth, but have come to appreciate the original Barracuda as well as its immediate successor. A great observation about the rat maze on the side of the ‘56; I can’t unsee that now.
That “Rat Maze” now has me obsessing about just how the factory painting process was undertaken with the two-tones. I’ll not endeavor to look into it though, just wait for the next distraction from useful tasks. It’s better that way, I think.
Every time I see a car like that ’56 with its exuberant color and trim schemes and mid-century “We won the war so we get to drive big shiny pink cars, and to hell with what you think!” attitude, I’m amazed that a world like that existed. Then I’m reminded of the disposable attitude toward consumer goods at the time and it becomes clearer to me that this thing is so foreign to me because it was never intended to still be on the planet in this moment. Time travel, indeed.
“I’m reminded of the disposable attitude toward consumer goods at the time…”
Nice observation, but I wonder if we’ve gotten worse. So many of the parts on the Belvedere can be repaired numerous times – switches can be cleaned, bearings can be replaced, etc. TV repairmen existed. Now, we buy cheap, toss it out when it goes bad, and buy cheap again.
The fact that it’s still on the planet is something I have to remind myself when things are frustrating in the garage – the designers and accountants NEVER expected these things to last 50, 60, 70 years and more. Like you said, people drove ’em for a few years and junked them. Old junkyard pictures are striking because there are so many cars in the single-digit age range.
TV’s had wired circuits, not circuit boards. And they needed repairs because they were full of tubes which wear out and produce a lot of heat, aging everything else. All big bits you can find and unsolder (except the tubes which just plug in), not everything on microchips on a little circuit board.
But definitely not the very unecological throwaway culture of today. On the other hand, NOTHING was actually recycled other than steel in cars. In some ways we’re going back – brown paper bags in stores (if you live in a more progressive place with new anti-throwaway plastic laws anyway). Only now we can put them in the recycling bin after use.
These really are an interesting pairing – the whole industry moved a lot in those ten years.
1956 – Yes, that side trim/2 tone treatment was a puzzler from the first time I saw it. The 56 Fury had the only really attractive side trim of any 55-56 Plymouth. I had read that Chrysler old-timer Henry King did most of the styling work on the 55-56 Plymouth and Dodge while Exner took the lead on the Chrysler/Imperial/DeSoto. I always found the smaller car just the teeniest bit dumpy in its basic shape.
1966 – these were nicely done, especially inside. I thought Plymouth was running out of ideas on grille treatments towards the end of this generation of A body. What got really depressing was to watch Plymouth go from 1966 to 1976.
The “spear” on the side of the 1956 Belvedere evokes the “Forward Look!”
The Belvedere is the only model with the Forward Look emblem on the back fender. The Belvedere side trim goes with the emblem and also the rearward slant of the new for 1956 fins (although not that finny compared to the 1957’s). All the 1956 Chrysler products were facelifted with some version of those introductory model fins.
It is interesting how by the mid-1950’s American car stylists were happy to put any kind of chrome trim arrangement all over the mostly unsculptured sides, partly to give basically identical brands like Dodge and Plymouth their own identity.
“bathroom tile masquerading as a door panel”. I was thinking 50’s style “QR” codes.
Anyway, These two cars are unique. I rather like them.
The seats would have originally been upholstered with the same vinyl.
Yeah? Well I do (no, really, it’s true!), and even so, this juxtaposition makes me see nothing at all interesting about the ’66. I usually have a strong preference for cars with four doors and a metal roof, but this PANK!!! ’56 Plymouth is hawt.
I must agree with you on the ‘hawt’ regard the PINK! What an awful color to paint this otherwise attractive ‘56 Plymouth. I certainly liked our yellow and black one a lot better.
Maybe I’m not up on my slang, but I think Daniel is implying that the color is a good thing. 🙂
It’s “Briar Rose”. My 1956 Belvedere convertible was a turquoise blue (called “Turquoise Blue”) with the same white on the sides. It was a whole lot more pleasant on the dashboard and steering wheel than the pink.
I’d take either of ’em over today’s “pallette” of black, white, grey, silver, beige, and maybe a blue or a red if you want to pay extra.
For some reason I’m impressed that they got the colour of the steering wheel on the Belvedere to exactly match the metal dash paint. That strikes me is pretty serious materials technology for 1956. Or is it resto-magic?
Apparently the color match is original…I found these photos of an unrestored car…perhaps the SAME car.
The steering wheels were actually painted, not solid plastic that color.
My mother’s maiden aunt had a 56 Plymouth Belvedere and a 64 Belvedere, now there was a change. The 56 was a single color, a medium gray, so that the….unusual(?) side trim wasn’t so obvious. I don’t remember the interior all that well, but seem to remember it as being either gray and white or medium green.
The 64, was nearly it’s opposite. While the 56 was a ” deluxe ” trim/nameplate the 64 was the bottom of the trim ladder. My aunt’s? Her 64 was that almost ubiquitous light brown with a brown interior that 55% of mid 60s Chrysler products were painted. My aunt was a senior citizen and she had very conservative taste.
The 64 Savoy (“Plymouth” on the fenders) was bottom of the barrel. 64 Belvedere was dressier, with more chrome inside and out, and fancier upholstery.
The two have one styling theme in common, perhaps by accident. From ’54 to ’58, Plymouth taillights were exclamation marks. Vertical line above a dot. The big Plymouths abandoned it and never took it back, but Valiants from ’63 to ’73 continued the theme in a more squarish way.
Good catch…
That’ll be ’64-’73, excepting ’65 wagons. The American ’63 Valiant’s taillights were sad-sack horizontal items, and the ’65 wagon’s were small squares.
Love seeing them both although if I were buying a Plymouth in 1956 I would have chosen another color. But, we must remember that the era is called “The Pink and Black Era.”
Love them both. I am a long time Mopar fan and have alway’s leaned a bit toward the Plymouth line-up. I learned to drive in my father’s ’68 Fury, both my older brother’s owned Plymouth’s, and my best friend in high school drove a ’70 Road Runner, ’69 Charger RT, and a ’73 Road Runner.
I proudly own an ’09 Challenger RT, ’15 Cherokee Trailhawk, and ’71 340 Challenger convertible. I hope before I die to get a sixties Barracuda, or GTX. That’s my dream.
Will someone please fish my comment (and the two valid comments from Buzz Waldron) out the trash where they landed? Thanks kindly.
This is my least favorite Barracuda, either A- or E-body. It might have gotten a real, sporty dash, but that front end is like someone at Chrysler decreed that the prior Barracudas didn’t look enough like a Valiant, so they made ‘certain’ that no one mistook the 1966 for anything other than a Valiant with a big, compound glass rear window.
I mean, the only differences between the 1966 Valiant and Barracuda front ends is that the Valiant has a Valiant emblem in the grille and more subdued horizontal ribs in the headlight surrounds, while the Barracuda got a fish emblem and egg-crate surrounds. That’s it.
I have said it before—Chrysler should’ve been a little more thoughtful at the pick-a-mix bins of A-body components, viz:
That’s a 1964. Like the earlier Valiant/Barracuda, it was okay.
But the 1966 Dodge Dart front end wasn’t exactly a stunner, either, looking a whole lot like the frumpy 1966 Ford Falcon.
I know it’s a ’64, and I think it beats the snot out of any production version of the first-generation Baccaruda.
The Spanish version of the ’66 Dart front end might have worked better on the ‘ruda body than the American version; I’d have to see it.
Rectangular headlights would have helped, but the bottom line is that the 1966 A-body front end, whether Valiant or Dart, just wasn’t very attractive, with the earlier versions (at least after 1962) being better.
Love the ’56. I was brought home from the hospital n my Dad’s ’55 Dodge Crusader as a newborn. I’ll always remember that dash with the radio grille on the passenger side. His was a stripped down car though, no gadgets on the dash, and certainly no radio. Three on the tree provided the shifting mechanism. I loved that car.
I love those colors of the 1950’s-the pinks, turquoise, yellows, reds, etc. Same for the interiors of that period-today all the colors are black, white, silver and grey, interiors are either tan, grey or black. How sad.
My Dad’s first car he bought right out of college was a ’56 Plymouth Plaza, stripper with the flathead 6 and standard transmission, don’t know if it even had a heater (probably did, he bought it in PA). Don’t think his had the fancy door trim. Even though he was to later own 2 Dodges it was the only Plymouth he was ever to own.
He did luck into his first job as a chemist at Sylvania, he started working on semiconductors in 1956 and except for a short stint (when I and my sister were born) he was gainfully employed in that same field until he retired in 1990. This would be the car he drove when he worked for Hoffman Electronics in El Monte, Ca…my Mother, Sister and I flew to California but my Dad had some dangerous chemicals packed in a cooler with dry ice that he had in the back of the Plymouth. He worked on very early solar cells, specifically those used on the Explorer 6 satellite.
The Plymouth was traded in on a 1961 Rambler wagon (first of two in a row) in his favorite green color, and with an automatic (bowing to my Mother, who just stopped driving this year, who learned to drive on a semi-automatic Chrysler, but never really was comfortable driving a manual transmission) bought in Compton, CA.