For most people, the day they get their driver’s license is a huge milestone. But for car enthusiasts in particular, the achievement tends to spark especially bad cases of automotive daydreaming. With a newly minted license in hand, surely there was a dream car that was both desirable and on the edge of actual attainability that you just couldn’t get out of your head. So what was your biggest teenaged car crush?
I’m not talking about super car lust, like the cars on posters you may have had on your bedroom wall as a teen (in my case a Lamborghini Countach).
I’m talking about a car that you wanted really badly, but might have actually been able to get (perhaps with a minor miracle) in real life. The car you hoped to be seen in, the one you thought was a great expression of your taste and personality.
Was it the ride of a spoiled rich kid at school?
Or was it as simple as your grandparent’s car? You know, as in, “I’ll take anything, just let me get behind the wheel!”
For my new driver teenaged reality, I was actually quite happy to pilot my mother’s ’79 Oldsmobile Ninetly-Eight LS. Yeah, just like the ’78 Ninety-Eight LS pictured above, it was brown with a beige vinyl top and brown vinyl interior. But I could drive it! And our Olds had the 403 V8, so it was actually capable of things my mother never dreamed of…but those are stories for another time.
However, for my teenaged “could-maybe-somehow-be-a-reality-someday” automotive fantasy, one car did rise to the top, though the competition for my teen wheels dreams was fierce.
For me, that car was the 2nd generation Supra that appeared for 1982. I absolutely loved the aggressive, angular-aero design with big chunky wheels and long hood over the sweet, smooth and powerful Toyota 2.8L DOHC Inline-6 with the 5-speed manual. I wasn’t entirely crazy about the black-painted hatch and rear bumper on all body colors. But I had a solution for that: get a Gloss Black Supra! It sure was mean looking, at a time when black cars were not ubiquitous.
Inside, what could be better than striped velour Sport Seats (with inflatable lumbar support!) and a high-tech instrument panel? Of course, in my dreams I would have added the top stereo system with the cassette player and graphic equalizer too!
This Supra would have been absolutely, positively perfect. Cool, modern, sophisticated and fast–talk about a date magnet (the car, not teenaged me). And speaking of dating, a woman I did date years later (and ultimately married) had some interesting teenaged car lust of her own. Being the car nut that I am, I asked her early on what car she dreamed of as a teen, and her answer was not what I expected.
Apparently in Bergen County, New Jersey where Kim grew up the Renault Fuego had a short burst as the “hot ticket.” And she always did have a predilection for rounded designs: even as a little girl, she really noticed and liked the AMC Pacer when it came out. So I guess the bubble back French oddball was part of that continuum. Chacun à son goût (to each his own taste).
Speaking of taste, it’s interesting to consider how things have changed since the 1980s, when 2-doors were hugely popular and high on people’s lists of desirable cars. Now small sporty coupes are about as in-style as Knots Landing.
My 18-year-old daughter, for example, has had but one lust vehicle since she first got her learner’s permit: a Jeep Wrangler Unlimited Sahara, in white, please and thank you.
My 15-year-old son, just starting driver’s ed, fluctuates wildly between dream cars, but an ongoing favorite is the Subaru WRX STI (and yes, he really loves the bright WR Blue).
Both my kids want 4-door and 4wd vehicles—the “it” vehicles for many teens in the 20-teens, just like sports coupes were for many teenagers in the 1980s. But while the vehicle type may change, the desire for cool wheels remains ageless (and hopefully will continue even as vehicles continue to transform).
So now you know my teenage dream machine, and my wife’s and kids’. What was yours?
If I had a “dream car” in early teenage years, it was probably something affordable (times were tough for my family back then,) but once I saw the Fuego reviewed in Playboy Magazine, I was smitten! My first car was something affordable-a used Mercury Monarch I bought when I got a new job and needed wheels to get there, but later on, I finally got my Renault (also used, but still a treat!) I never got my date with Morgan Fairchild (the other teenage dream I had,) but I did get my car.
Great question GN. I bought my first car even before I had my driver’s license, a beat-up rusted blue 1972 Chevelle 2-door. My dream car at that time was that car, but heavily modified. My Chevelle had a 250 straight six and a Powerglide, and the engine wasn’t running. I wanted to build a high performance Chevy small block, upgrade the suspension with stiff springs and big sway bars, and convert it to an “SS” clone. At this time, Pro Street was big, but I had visions of building something along the lines of a Pro Touring car, before Pro Touring became a thing. I’d spend hours scouring the PAW parts catalogs and the like searching for parts that I couldn’t afford to fix up my old Chevelle. In the end, I got the car running but it was too far gone to be anything beyond a beater. It was well above my skill-set and budget at the time to bring it back to the glory. I learned a lot about working on cars from that car.
While the Chevelle spent much time up on blocks, I actually learned to drive a few others, two of which were also from 1972. One was a 1972 Torino and the other a 1972 Skylark 4-door. I stuck my nose up at that Buick because it was a 4-door, but I’d take it in a hearbeat today. It was a floaty old beast, but that 350 Buick had nice low-end torque.
After the Chevelle was sold to a friend (who used it for parts), I ended up lusting after a 1977-79 Chevrolet B-body coupe with a 350 and F41 suspension, but ended up with a hand-me down B-body wagon instead.
This was my first car(not the actual one but just like it). It was my Grandparents.
I got it just before getting my license in 98. They bought an 84 Olds cutlass supreme and handed me the keys to the Marquis. I really loved that car. I wish I still had it. But it was on its last legs.
But it’s nice to be able to say I got exactly what I wanted for my first car.
My story is somwhat unusual in that despite the fact that I’m a car nut from an early age, I actually didn’t get my license until after I graduated from law school in 1987. I spent much of the previous decade either living or commenting to Boston for school & had no real need for a car. The car that I lusted for at the time was the Mustang LX 5.0, which just came out. I bought a 1985 1/2 Escort for my first car instead, which I did like, although several years later I almost bought a 1985 Mustang GT, which my brother wisely dissuaded from buying as it was somewhat beat.
License in fall of ’64, driving test on a Driving School ’63 Dodge Dart. Auto lust was for the ’64 Pontiac GTO with the tail pipe splitters. First vehicle was Honda 250 Scrambler, then a ’57 Pontiac 4 DR. I was lucky enough to work for Dealerships all my life [mostly the back end] yet make a good living and enjoying perks of new Demos for most of the time. Still nuts about cars.
Wanted a 69-70 Cadillac or a 77-79 town car. Ended up with an 80 0ldsmobile 88 royal brougham which was soon replaced with a 78 ltd landau coupe.
I actually got my dream car, When I was about 16 I used to see a 1969 Valiant Regal Hardtop driving around the town I grew up in.
To me, it looked just like one of the Plymouth or Dodge muscle cars I used to read about in magazines.
It had Pacer wheels & wheelcovers, wide tires, BFG T/As on the back, rode a bit lower than stock and most importantly, it had a 318.
When I was 17 my parents started letting me look around for a car to buy.(in Australia driving age is 18, but you started learning at 17)
I looked at a few cars, including Aussie Chargers, (it was always going to be a Valiant !!) but nothing really grabbed me.
Imagine my joy when the above mentioned actual car came up for sale, my parents let me take out a loan, (in their name) to buy the car.
That car taught me a lot, unfortunately responsible car ownership wasn’t one of them.
I wasn’t very mature for my age and drove that car hard without looking after it.
I wish my Dad had taken the keys and locked the car away until I was “old” enough to handle the responsibility.
Anyway, it wasn’t all bad, and me and my mates had some great times with that car.
Here it is. unfortunately the wrong way around.
There wasn’t just one! I was a total slut for the Fiat 128 sedan, Fiat Brava, the LeCar (in orange with the fabric sunroof), a Volvo 123GT, Mercedes 190.. but I had a twice rear-ended Kleenex yellow Datsun 510 wagon.
I fell in love with the 56 DeSoto Fireflite with Adventurer running gear, and thought one in a convertible would be cool, that was when dad bought it new, I was seven. Then the 1957 Plymouth came out. Several relatives and friends bought new Belvederes, my dream car became a Belvedere convertible from ’57. David Jansen had a tv series from ’57-’60 where he played a PI, he drove new Belvedere converts in 57 and 58 and a DeSoto Fireflite convert in 59-60. The way he drove them made me want one more. I started detailing the cars in a good size area blocks around home at 12, by 15 had three jobs, and enough savings to buy cars, I also had my drivers license because Chico was much smaller then and was a “rural” area in California which allowed me to get a full license at 15. I had found a ’57 Belvedere convertible in town, with all accessories I wanted, even the right colors of gold with white trim, but wasn’t sure the young guy would sell, it was like new, even had a new set of wide whites. Also there was the little problem of dad. He and I were aliens to one another. He was football, hunting, fishing, man’s man all the way and a type A+ personality that could make your head explode, I was already taller than dad at 5’10” at 15 and still growing, I also had developed muscles and abs from work and working out. Mom taught me how to read and comprehend by age 2, I developed a personality like hers , more relaxed, which drove dad crazy. by 1st grade I was writing school skits, and performing, in glee club and learning to dance every style possible, by sixth grade I was good at performing, and added painting, drawing, sculpting, playing guitar, flute and piano. Dad considered most of it wasted effort. At least we agreed on fishing (although being out in nature with a camera was as relaxing) and on mechanical things. I bought my first Harley, a 1958 Electra-Glide in deep blue with white trim at 15. It came with a full set of black leathers and buckle engineer boots, which mom wasn’t thrilled with, she said I looked like a hood, which I guess I did as much as a kid who still was thin, had short golden blond hair, pale blue eyes and looked more Bambi than Brando. But she was right, things were changing, in the short amount of time between jobs I had joined a motorcycle…group, who were cool guys, just different personalities from what I had known and I didn’t tell my parents, although dad WOULD have approved, he rode with a Harley group as a teen. I also maintained my squeaky clean image at school, although closest friends knew. My new personality also made a decision. Dad had absolutely forbidden my purchasing a high powered convertible as a first car, this after teaching me to drive the DeSoto and not letting me get my license until he was sure I could hang the tail out, do slalom and 180’s and really knew how to drive. I had the money, and decided not to worry mom,or tell dad. I rode the Harley to where I’d seen the ’57 parked most. I figured it was meant to be, the guy was just putting a for sale sign in the car. This was 1964, his name was Tim and his dad bought the car new, he had it a few years and had it overseas with him in the Air Force, he blew the engine a year before and located a 1958 Fury 350 Golden Commando, had it sent to him and dropped it in the ’57, then went ape and beefed everything else mechanical to Fury specs. He was out of the service, going to Chico State College, and had just bought a custom order 64 Sports Fury convertible in Bronze poly, full equipped, and with a 426 Max Wedge with 4 speed. The dealer only offered 200 on the ’57. I told him I loved ’57’s and had drooled over his car for months. He sold it to me for $300, Jimmy, a friend who lived a block away from home asked his parents if I could park the Plymouth there. They were free thinking near hippies who said yes. The ’57 needed nothing, totally clean and waxed, full power equipment, A/C from factory, of course, it was only seven years old, he had also added the Fury instrument cluster. The only thing missing was dual rear antennae, but that was okay, the one on the front fender was power. It also had the wing tips on the bumpers, which I loved. I was happy as I got home, only to have a surprise waiting. Dad had found his ideal for my first car, a Morris Minor 1000 coupe. “Oh God!” I thought, one of the slower cars around. Dad and I headed for the college district, as he turned a corner by a sorority house he said, “There it is.” I realized he didn’t have a clue what a Morris Minor was supposed to look like. This was setting low, with wide tires and rims filling the wheel wells, driving lights across the front, a roll bar visible,. As we walked to it, the girl owner came out. I was looking at the inside, custom bucket seats and harness’s, no rear seat, but a custom leather covered shelf, woodgrain dash, normal speedo, but also gauges and tach, the steering wheel was stock, but the banjo type and in good shape. I popped the hood, at first I wasn’t sure what I was looking at, then realized it was an MG-A Twin Cam with dual webers, and a home made ram induction system, a set of Fiam air horns. I was getting excited about it. Dad paid the girl her asking price of $100. She was saying,”Daddy says he wants it back, but put it in my name so I could not have any problems, it’s just so rough to drive, and hard to get in and out, the seat belt fastening, I just want a nice little Fiat a friend has. I was sure the father was going to go ballistic, but kept my mouth shut. Outside it was nicely painted Rambler Montego Rose, and inside the original red leather side panels with dark brown leather sheall seats and brown roxpoint carpet. The roll bar and headliner were white vinyl covered. It had a heater-sort of, with no radio, toggle switches did outside lights. She explained the starting, turn the key on and when the electric fuel pump stops, pull the starter switch and once started, blip the throttle until completely warm, then you can drive. That’s what I did and still killed it the first time I let the clutch up. By the time I got it home I really liked it. I read McCahills test of a 57 Minor coupe, 0-60 in 34 seconds and top speed of 72 mph but nearly 50 mpg. McCahill also always urged people to know the performance of their cars. I went to Norms and picked him up, we went out to farm country, where it is relatively safe to go fast. Both on board, it clocked off 0-60 in 10 seconds with a glorious howl from the webers and rap from the exhaust. Later we had Norm drive his ex-CHP 57 Buick Century with certified speedo to see how fast the Minor went. It was just under 120 mph. We soon checked the Belvedere performance, 7.5 0-60, with a top of a little over 130 mph with both wcfb’s wide open. I’ve never been down to one car since that day. The synchronicity of iit, both had torsion bar and leaf spring suspension, both were 3-3.5 turns lock to lock, both had performance engines, they both had performance linings on their brakes, but the Minor had drums the size of a ashtray. I weighed it, and it was just over 1,000 pounds, the Plymouth surprised me at just over 3,000 pounds. I drove both a lot, but my time with the Plymouth, which I intended to keep forever, wasn’t long enough. ending up as a center car in a six car pile up, even the engine block was damaged.. When it was wrecked I had added an Austin-Healey 100M, a ’56 turquoise T-bird with white roof, (which got rolled over a few months later), and the first of 12 1957 Ford Fairlane 500 Sunliners and 2 door Victorias. At 17, I found a perfect, original (23,000 miles) 1959 Plymouth Sport Fury convertible in bronze, inside and out, white top, new wide whites, full power, A/C, swivel seats, headlight dimmer, cruise control, radio, automatic inside rear view mirror, pushbutton TorqueFlite ,posi, and Golden Commando 395 (361 with dealer added 2x4bbls). it was flawless and I bought it instantly, intending forever ownership. Dad found out I had been buying and selling cars for years, and all the relatives knew it. While I was at work he sold the ’59 Fury, and four other cars he located. Dad said until I was 18 he could at least control my car purchases. He would not tell me where any went. Dad was in very good physical condition and in our verbal argument, he thru the first punch, I was still standing when it finished. Dad was pissed and ordered me out of the house. That wasn’t really a problem for me, but mom stopped me from leaving, telling dad we had taken his verbal abuse for years, and if it was going to be physical, she was going too. There was tension in the house, but dad never verbally abused, or raised a hand again, but the ’59 Sports Fury was gone. He tried to tell me it was for my own good, it was too much car, yada yada. Actually I didn’t talk much to him from 17 to 18, and on my 18th Birthday came home with my three year old ’63, 30,000 mile 425 cube Electra convertible which he couldn’t sell out from under me. We stayed silent to each other for another two years, I remained to referee arguments which they still had, but not as bad as before, gradually dad got calmer, we did agree on cars, and I maintained the DeSoto and International pickup for him. When he retired, things heated up with them at home and he asked if he could work with me at my restoration and detail business. I said yes, he was brilliant at the work and loved doing it, we formed a new respect for each other, he finally calmed down. His last 20 years were good for him, and easier for Mom. He still had a temper and you could imagine the term “road rage” was invented for him, but life worked better than it had. One evening, he had been upset at someone in traffic that day, and wasn’t feeling well, he didn’t want to go to the hospital to get checked out, his last ride was in the Electra. He left the DeSoto and International to me. pic is of my 1st ’57 conv, I have another to restore now.
LRF, that really was a great story, but My God, could you PLEASE use some paragraph breaks next time?
I had to keep stopping after about a third of the way through, for fear of vertigo taking over, then kept losing my place, and having to reread a lot of it.
I know it’s my problem, not yours, but just asking; great story though, including some parallels, though I’d put you closer to my older brother’s age than mine.
Didn’t get my license till i was 17, (in 2006) would of loved to own the 2005 Cobalt SS Supercharged, but i ended up with a 1993 Mercury Topaz i saw on my way home from school one day, drove my parents nuts to get it for me, seeing how my grandfather had one similar.
I got my license in 1973. I wanted a 1963 Corvette Stingray or a 1964 1/2 Ford Mustang. ‘Nuff said.
A 1968 Chevrolet Bel Air, Biscayne, Impala or Caprice Classic. I wasn’t picky about the # of taillights.
What an interesting posting! I received my license in 1985, at the age of 17. I always had “older man tastes”, I know. I didn’t go for Camaros or Mustangs like my peers. I desired cars that hinted at “old-world” luxury and panache. I have a large list, but here are the top 6 in this photo-chart, the last one (bottom right), ended up being my first new car! So, these are: 1982 Chrysler Le Baron sedan, with the landau half-roof partially covering the rear door (similar to the 1967-71 Thunderbird), 1982 (that generation) Lincoln Continental (“let’s do the bustle!” – a previous posting title), 1985 Cadillac Cimarron (the Charlie Brown of Cadillacs, but with the V-6), 1985 Oldsmobile Firenza Cruiser station wagon (with the wood trim, of course!), Chrysler Le Baron Town & Country convertible, and finally, Chrysler’s P-car with it’s slightly-cute “hidden-hatchback” design: my 1989 Plymouth Sundance “Highline” (a Canadian trim line). Honourable mentions for me are: 1985 Buick Skyhawk sport hatchback with the hidden headlamp option, 1985 Chrysler New Yorker, and 1986 Oldsmobile Toronado.
For me, it was a toss up: Ford Granada Ghia sedan, loaded with leather bucket seats; the new, “downsized” ’77 Thunderbird, or what I ended up with: a ’67 Mercury Cougar. It fit my budget and I always loved it. And I’ve had a certain ’68 for almost 25 years now.
Back in the day I was desireous of the then-new Volkswagen Scirocco, the Toyota Celica and the Datsun 280-Z. Not too long afterwards I lusted for the Mazda RX-7 and the first Honda Accord Hatchback Coupe.
Dad and I had the same commute when I was 16, and en route there was one of these, in this color, with these stripes, with these wheels, in the driveway. He casually mentioned that he planned to procure it for me. It took me about six months to accept that he had been joking…
After reality set in, I shifted my sights to something different.
Just-out-of-reach-attainable? ’64 Ford Galaxie hardtop. This was in 1996, but I always loved the classics. Found one in Auto Trader for $3500, 390 and mags, but my budget was about half that so I didn’t even bother to go look at it.
“Reasonable” new car dream of the time? Probably a V8 Thunderbird. The affordable sibling of the car I really wanted, which was the Lincoln Mark VIII. (That or an RX7, how are those for polar opposites of the coupe world?)