(first posted 12/4/2014) In 1992, Lee Iacocca practically had to be dragged out of his office at Chrysler. Presumably he got shoved into his Imperial, and told never to come back, although he tried once or twice. He had folded, spindled and mutilated the K-car platform that he inherited upon his arrival in 1979 into every possibly permutation, and this Imperial was the last one, a cynical and desperate last-ditch attempt to rekindle the old Iaccoca-mobile magic as well as that storied name. It was the end of two eras, both for the Imperial and Iacocca. And not a very pretty one for either of them.
In 1926, Walter Chrysler proudly announced his new Chrysler Imperial 80, designed to take on Cadillac, Lincoln, and other luxury cars of the time. The “80” stood for the speed it would comfortably and quietly attain; quite the accomplishment for a car in its price class at the time.
The very first Chrysler, a brilliant all-new car had only just appeared in 1924, and was the most successful launch of a new automobile brand. Now two years later, the Imperial was the crowning achievement of Walter Chrysler and his new company. The Chrysler Imperial was off to an auspicious start.
We’re not going to recap the Imperial’s whole long, rough ride through the decades here. But from 1955 (above) though 1975, Imperial was elevated to a brand of its own, but it just couldn’t compete against Cadillac and Lincoln, never mind the import luxury brands. The name was put to rest, presumably forever.
But not once Lee Iacocca showed up in 1979. In 1981, he staged his first Imperial comeback, which turned out to be an embarrassing dud on many levels, most of all because of its electronic fuel injection.
Lee had pushed the Imperial hard, and when it blew up in his face, he was embarrassed and angry. And he killed it pronto. Later, Lee even had the gall to claim that he wasn’t responsible, even though one of the Chrysler execs has quoted him as saying: “where the hell is our Cadillac/Lincoln entry?” right after he arrived,and ordering up the Imperial. Anyway the ’81 Imperial has all Iacocca-mobile hallmarks. JPC’s full ’81 Imperial story here.
You’d think he’d had enough egg on his face from that debacle. But Lee was utterly addicted to his perpetual formula for success: the classic “Ford-Iacocca face” that first appeared on the 1968 Lincoln Continental Mark II, with a faux-classic grille flanked by hidden headlights, half-roof padded vinyl tops, chintzy wire wheel covers, opera windows and carriage lights, and of course, bordello interiors. It had worked so well at Ford in the seventies, right? Ummm, yes, until it eventually took Ford to the brink of bankruptcy. Oh never mind that…Lee was lucky to get fired by HFII just before all that shit hit the fan.
Chrysler was a perfect fit for Lee: finally he was now the real boss, and quickly burnished his image as the One True Savior of the company. And just as soon as Lee got the government loan guarantees to see Chrysler through its near-death in 1979, thanks to showing the key members of Congress pictures of the K-Cars, he set himself to creating a steady stream of K-based genuine Iacocca-mobiles.
It’s come to be known as the Kreation story, and goes like this.
In the beginning was the letter K, and that letter K was with Chrysler’s engineers. And then the great Savior Lee arrived, just in time to take credit for it. And the letter K was made steel, and drove amongst us, even if rather modestly. And Lee said: “It is good, but it reminds me way too much of the 1960 Falcon. I must do something about that”.
So on the first day (1982), Lee said “let there be the LeBaron”, something that I need not be so embarrassed about”. But it was just a start, and looks almost demure compared to what was to come. Of course it was bestowed the ubiquitous Iacocca “cap” and of course the other trappings of Iaccoca-mobiles.
On the second day (1984), Lee said “that’s just not ambitious enough”, so he kreated the New Yorker. Still mostly the same basic K-Car body, but now with a 2.7″ wheelbase stretch for a bit of rear seat legroom, a more flamboyant “cap” along with a crappy little carriage light on it, and fake louvers on the front fenders. Lee had gone on a shopping spree at Pep Boys, and lavished the New Yorker with every cheap little trick in his holy book.
On the third day (also in 1984), Lee said: “What’s a proper American car company without a proper limousine?” So he waved his cigar at a Lebaron coupe, its front and rear ends parted, and a middle section appeared magically to unite them. Lee was impressed. Nobody else was.
On the fourth day (1988), Lee said “It’s been seven years of plenty, so let the the top-tier K-Cars have a bit of freshening up, but not enough to ruin their basic boxy proportions. Ford’s new potato-cars, the Taurus and Sable, are destined to be a huge flop. I, and only I know what Amerikans really want.” Thus was the 1988 New Yorker and Dynasty, the K-Cars Reinkarnated.
On the fifth day (1989), Lee said: “Let there be…a Maserati of K-Cars“. And as odd as that decree seemed, it did come to pass, although not nearly as quickly as it was supposed to. Was his power slipping a bit?
On the sixth day (1990), Lee said: “That 1988 New Yorker is just not long enough; let it henceforth be stretched even further. And let it bear the storied ‘Fifth Avenue’ name. Yes, that’s better; longer always is.” The TC fiasco certainly proved that.
In the creation story in Genesis, God called it quits after six days and took a well-deserved break on the seventh. Not so Lee; he was now feeling so expansive from all of his kreations, and was now ready for the ultimate expression of his swelling powers. So on the seventh day (1991), his krowning achievement arrived: the resurrection of his second most beloved name (after Mark), the Imperial. Here was the chance to redeem himself, after having to kill it back in 1983.
In typical Iacocca-mobile fashion, the Imperial’s cost benefit equation clearly favored Lee, not the buyer. What exactly did one get for that massive 30% premium over a New Yorker Fifth Avenue? Some different plastic and plasti-chrome on the front end, obviously. Imperial badges.
To put the Imperial’s price in perspective, in inflation adjusted dollars it cost a mighty $55K. For a dolled-up K-Car. That’s actually even more than the 1981 Imperial coupe, which had completely unique styling and sheet metal, as well as interior. This Imperial’s pricing is right up there with the Cadillac Cimarron in terms of unabashed cynicism.Comparing the Imperial’s interior to the New Yorker’s, it appears that the plasti-wood on the doors was rearranged, and that elegant door pull added. Hey, that’s got to be worth a couple of thousand right there. Other than that, it looks mighty similar, inside and out. But it’s wearing that Imperial nameplate.
In gold, no less. Not surprisingly to anyone except Lee, sales were decidedly mediocre. The first year (1991), the just barely topped 10k. Then it was down to 7k for each of the subsequent years. In 1994, a very different New Yorker/LHS replaced the Imperial.
One might think that after the 1981 Imperial fiasco, Lee might have been willing to let it go. But that was just not in the nature of the man. Just like he couldn’t let the boxy neo-classical flim-flam go, and just had do it one more time, forever sullying that once-storied name, so could he not let his power at Chrysler go. The Imperial is an almost perfect analogue to Lee’s career at Chrysler. The Iakokka Era was over, thankfully. It was an ordeal at the time, and it’s becoming one again reliving it in writing. Enough.
The only question is this: did Lee see the light and drive himself home that day in 1992, or did he have to be tied up and thrown into the trunk of his Imperial?
I found myself wondering what Exner would have done with K-car styling.
Now theres an interesting idea.
Of all the K cars I actually liked the Executive Limo – it seemed like something logical for the early/mid eighties. Of course I was one of the few who thought this stretched K was a good idea. I remember a former co-worker bought a nearly new K limo dirt cheap.
I drove a ‘new ‘90 or ‘91 Imperial, the only thing I remember was how the crystal hood ornament shined from the street lights. I had no idea how expensive that Imperial was.
I think the Imperial bookends are a fitting tribute for Iaccoca’s chairmanship at Chrysler.
I don’t think Lee had any illusions of the Imperial being at all relevant in the ’90s. It’s just he knew there were some (mostly older) people out there who liked the way American cars were a few decades earlier, so figured why not throw a carrot to them. These same sort of people would buy a 300 or Charger today; they’re the throwback cars of 2019. The Imperial did seem a bit redundant though – the similar NY 5th Ave already had this market covered, and it looked nicer inside and out (though still rather malproportioned, but with a beautiful interior IMO).
The ultimate Imperial would be the Lamborghini Edition. Bob Lutz talks about it’s creation in his book “Icons and Idiots”. I think he drove it for a while. “Behind the Wheel at Chrysler” mentions him driving a similar vehicle – I’ll bet it’s the same one.
True, but oddly enough no one has ever managed to produce a photo of it – or even an eyewitness account of having actually seen it – despite Lutz’s claim to having driven it for awhile on public roads.
I don’t deny it existed, but also wouldn’t doubt if the story has been embellished.
What we have to remember is that this wasn’t intended to be a show car, or even an “official” styling excercise. It was just something to placate Lee Iaccoca, who wanted to leverage the Lamborghini brand. I’m trying to dig up more information on this car.
Somehow I’d managed to miss that this thing ever happened. Typical of what happens when the guys in charge don’t see the changing times, and don’t realise that the cues people responded to once are now passe. An old man building an old man’s car.
I was almost cut off at low speed by one of these – a white New Yorker – one day in the late ’90s when the elderly driver made a left turn having moved all the way to the right side of the road before swinging the turn, slowing from 20 in a 25 to 10 in a 50 (this was right at the edge of a small town). No signal, of course. If I had been driving something with more power than my Geo Metro I’d have T-boned him but I was in mid-downshift to 2nd when he cut across me.
Lamborghini Editions for old men ? Where do I sign up ?
The first pic looks like Rocky Balboa when he says “Cut me, Mick.”
So many K-cars. So much blah. I didn’t know much about cars mechanically as a teen in the 80s, but my opinion of the Ks was cemented early because they were always putting out blue smoke at the stoplights, or broke down on the highway. I mean, you couldn’t not notice it. It was ALWAYS a Reliant, Laser, or Lancer.
The featured car does have very comfy seats, I will give it that. But so did my ’79 Accord.
That Imperial looks like it has plastic bumper fillers recycled from fifteen year-old Cadillacs…
the ‘K’imperial, and a sad,sad ending to a once fine car,But at least it had that wonderful late `80s-early `90s ‘can`t live without it’ gimmick-the electronic voice warning system.’ Passenger door is open’. Yeah, I know.
Lee should have had the RWD Fifth Avenue M platform stretched in the rear compartment, plastered on the Imperial styling hallmarks, spec’d the old standby 318 and cleaned up once more on the theme. While the cars wouldn’t have been anything great, livery companies would have had an alternative to the Lincoln Town Car.
Pffft, y’all are bashing on this car way too much. Tomcatt630 Mentioned a quote from a C/D article stating that Lido said all the 50 year old rich guys in Florida are going to buy this thing. Lido was right. Never has a car been so unpretentiously and directly targeted to one particular audience. No pretense was made that anyone except for senior citizens would love this car, no attempt to market to younger people, no ridiculous farce as in modern cars, o, this thing can climb rocks and go off road when it is going to spend its life in drive thrus, mall parking lots, Starbucks, etc. This car was NOT meant to be all things to all people, it was meant to be loved by a very specific audience and it was honest about it and loved for it.
I think this has to be, along with any FWD Century/Regal, the car that most appears as a last car/first car for many people. My Grandfather bought a off rental New Yorker Fifth Avenue in 1993 after my Grandmother passed away. She wouldn’t let him buy anything fancier than a Reliant because wire wheels were too difficult to keep clean and he certainly let loose when she passed away and ditched the Reliant in favour of this.
Granddad was a member of the Greatest Generation, the people who lived through the Depression and fought on the beaches of Calais and Dunkerque and Iwo Jima and in the jungles in Burma and thousands of other long forgotten places, and sweated and froze and died in far away, remote, nameless places which are today not even worth visiting by adventure tourists. They weren’t buying a car from people who killed their buddies not all that long ago. These were people who, as my Grandmother put it, had nothing to eat but sweet potatoes and snuck into restaurants to get ketchup packets during the Depression. They didn’t want something hard and spartan because it “handles well,” like a BMW. At 70ish, who cares about handling, and especially in America? You’re headed down flat, well paved, straight concrete highways with the cruise and air and Bix Biederbecke on the stereo. You want comfort and luxury, meaning lots of fun electronic buttons and glowing electronic instruments and plastiwood and leather and rich velour. You had all the spartan you wanted growing up.
Remember, too, this was a generation of “convenience foods.” Spam in a can! Canned soup casseroles with frozen vegetables! TV dinners! Jell-o molds! The whole concept of taste or variety didn’t happen with them, it was filling, reasonably nutritious, quick and easy, and they didn’t know better.
This car is a little like that, like a Golden Corral Buffet. Boy! You get steak and salad and 167 entrees and 1134 choices of dessert and so forth and it’s 11.99! It wasn’t, at all, the BEST available, but it got the job done very effectively and made Granddad feel cosseted plushly in his fancy car.
Oh, but they took economy car bones and tarted them up, how cynical. Pffft, I say, Mercedes are taxicabs in Europe. Countless awful humble Japanese econoboxes were made to put on stiletto heels and evening gowns and trotted out as “sporty” cars, the Paseo, Pulsar, Cordia, etc, etc, and now those awful humble econoboxes are putting on stilts and butch wear and being made to masquerade as Rambos.
In a marketing maneuver Chrysler apparently invented and goes on to this day, the sticker price bore no relation whatsoever to the actual out the door price. I dimly remember newspaper ads selling the things for something like 20K for the perhaps less fancy versions, but the Imperial wasn’t a whole lot more expensive. Sure, the ride was a little unsettled and cheap, it was narrower than the GM competition, but it offered possibly even more plushness than the GM competition at cut rate prices. My Grandmother had frozen milk when it was on sale and baked meatloaf in a turkey mold for Thanksgiving as turkey was expensive. Value meant a lot to them, and this delivered.
I don’t know what the sales figures were but I’m wondering if this wasn’t the most successful Imperial in terms of sales. The imperial had always been a distant third in sales and price to Cadillacs and Lincolns, but this was properly priced.
Granddad LOVED his car. This was the ne plus ultra of cars to him, and delivered EXACTLY what he wanted in a car and exceeded his expectations. It wasn’t cynical to anyone but the automotive press. The Greatest Generation deserved a car tailored exactly to them, the luxury at a knockoff price, and this was it.
@SavageATL, you said it right!