Curbside Classics: Ford Festivas – The Circle of Life

The famously tough Ford Festiva is one of a mere handful of subcompacts that earned a legendary reputation in North America. Most cars of such small stature are despised and mocked for being too cheap, too cute, too unsafe, too basic, too effeminate, too impractical, or any number of other creatively dismissive snubs.

It’s rare for such a small car in size-obsessed America to earn its keep through sheer tenacity, yet the Festiva persevered. However, not even the rugged little captive-import Ford could hang on forever. Time, careless owners, and perpetually low values are finally taking the last survivors off the road.

The design of this tiny hatchback began life as the Mazda 121, an ambitious ground-up front-wheel drive hatchback. Thanks to Ford and Mazda’s partnership, the Blue Oval saw an opportunity to expand into the very low end of the market. The last time Ford had fielded a truly small car in the United States was the first generation Ford Fiesta from ’77 to ’80. That car was earth-shattering in Europe but a mere footnote in the United States, where it quickly faded from memory and the streets.

By 1986, the Festiva launched in North America to surprising success, albeit with a twist. Prior to its 1992 debut in the North American market, Kia Motors assembled the 121 as their very own “Pride” in South Korea. Rather than the Mazda versions, Ford imported the Kia assembled versions to rebadge as the Festiva. Despite the shaky reputation of early Korean cars here, the Festiva was famed for being unbelievably tough in regular use.

At a mere 141″ long, it was significantly shorter than a classic Beetle and only 2 inches wider, yet boasted vastly more interior room. The Festiva was indeed astoundingly space-efficient for its small size.

This space efficiency was less of a selling point among America’s sprawling highways and frequently wide downtown streets; the small size did, however, help keep the car quite cheap. In 1993, its last model year before morphing into the sad Aspire, a basic Festiva L cost just $7,548, or $16,689 today. The cheapest new car in the United States today, the $18,160 Mitsubishi Mirage ES, handily beats it in performance, safety, and features, even for the roughly $1,500 price gap. Modern cars have come a long way, but do lack the rugged simplicity of this timeless design.

The legend of Ford’s gamble on bringing a properly capable subcompact to the US is enough to get through that we’ve almost ignored our featured car(s).

It’s over 30 years after the last Festiva rolled off the line and it’s rare to see one looking as clean and fresh as this example. But the car didn’t earn its reputation for toughness because of unusual pampered examples like this one.

This Ford is legendary because so many Festivas looked like this particularly post-apocalyptic example, hanging on for years or even decades before giving out. Small cheap cars are one of the most abused classes of vehicles on the road, and the Festiva could take the punishment.

Just about every iota of value has been extracted from this faithful commuting companion. Even in such a state, the owner left a pleading note for the inevitable tow truck driver. Is this a move out of pure desperation, or does it betray a certain appreciation for the dependable Ford?

Of course, such things can’t last forever. Eventually even the most well-engineered and well cared for car will give out. Without a major financial investment, the scrap yard beckons.

Yet even Festivas are beginning to age out of the junkyard ecosystem. I’ve only spotted a handful in my many trips scrounging for parts for my very own dependable 80s hooptie commuter. Many of the junked Festivas I’ve spotted have had close to 300,000 miles, despite being only a rung or two above the cheapest cars you could buy at the time.

Since we’re talking about this particular junked vehicle, let’s take a look at the basic interior these offered. It’s nothing special, but the hard-wearing cloth and durable plastics did hold up to abuse well. You didn’t get luxuries like a tachometer or a passenger mirror, but it wasn’t the worst surroundings ever put in a car. It’s intelligently basic rather than punishingly sparse.

Does the Festiva live up to its reputation? As no one appears to have written a COAL on a Festiva, I don’t know. They have long been cult classics, but absolutely no one is restoring them. What will happen when we run out of mint condition elderly-owned Festivas to snatch up for peanuts? Has that day already come? I suppose Festivas will become the new Falcons – too plain and pedestrian to restore, but too iconic to let die.

 

Related CC reading;

Curbside Classic: Ford Festiva – A Festival of Longevity, And How To Live In Your Festiva