|
People Love Classic Convertibles Again -- But Women Seem To Love Them Most
|
|
| Updated |
Jun 10, 2004 21:20:16 |
| Rating |
 48 ( -6 -12.5% ) | | Author | Beth McGroarty |
|
|
Description:
When I was about 11 or 12, and daydreamed about driving for the first time, I always pictured myself in a sixties-ish coupe with the top down (even though it was actually then the less breezy or sunny mid 70's). My ideal car was a generic, powder-yellow convertible roadster. I'm zipping around some winding coastal road headed towards some equally generic Ivy-League college weekend (as if these schools are anywhere near the sea...). I'm wearing one of those 1950's gingham triangles tied over my head, to keep (my imaginary long and bright red) hair in place. (I actually had short, brown hair cut in some ridiculous 70's 'unisex' fashion.) I'm driving alone and wearing oversized dark sunglasses. I've always loved convertibles, and if I still picture my ideal 'car,' that's what I imagine.
Miraculously, I did actually have a yellow convertible for one year in high school, and it remains the only time I ever really LOVED my car or LOVED driving. When I was 16, my father first helped me find a boxy, pumpkin-colored 1971 Datsun sedan, for $800, that I'd saved up for. It barely ran--hardly my dream realized. He neglected to inform me that you had to put oil in a car--quite understandably--and I drove it for about 3 months before it died. I cried and felt guilty, and he did, too. Felt guilty. It just so happened that two weeks later my stepmother (who always buys convertibles) was purchasing a new "Champagne Edition" Pininfarina convertible, a symphony of gold and beige. She was getting rid of her old '71 Fiat Spyder. Because those cars (inexplicably to me) had little resale value (they said they broke down a lot... who cares?!), they presented it to me as my Datsun replacement. I went mad with joy.
The first night I had it, I drove it to a friend's house. I was so excited, and so little acquainted with just how far you had to pull the parking brake up. It was a nightmare: someone came running into her house moments later, screaming, "A yellow car just rolled down the street into a tree." That person had also tried to stop it while it rolled by grabbing the wipers (?), so when I ran to the bottom of the hill, my car was nestled against a tree, with a mangled bumper, and with strange, twisted antlers sticking out of the windshield. I had to drive it home (crying) and then tell my Dad. He calmly said that's why I had insurance. After that inauspicious beginning every minute I spent in that Fiat was fun and seemed glamorous.
It had black leather seats, a real wood dash, covered with gauges that had quivering red needles pointing out rpm's and other speed-racer gadgets. It was made out of real materials like wood, and leather and chrome. It really drove like a sports car. I never put the top up unless it was hailing, and I would blast the heater with the top down in the rain. You could actually jump in, James-Bond-style, without opening the door. It had this lovable flaw where, at high speeds, it would get stuck in fifth (you literally couldn't disengage it)--but that just seemed appropriate and thrilling. When I went to college in New York, where you couldn't bring a car, my Dad sold it. I'm still nostalgic for that yellow convertible, and all it represented: having something you wanted rather than needed, being an adult, freedom, hope... Driving often feels like an annoying means to an end. Driving in a convertible sports car is an experience in itself.
I recently asked other women (friends and co-workers) what car they wanted when they were young, and now. 16 out of 20 (in my informal, unscientific poll) quickly gave a convertible as their answer to both questions. About half, without hesitating, said their ideal new car would be a Porsche Boxster, with some Corvette convertibles, and Z3s thrown in. There's obviously no biological reason why women love convertibles, but it seems to be a compelling cultural fact. Maybe it's because as girls we read the Nancy Drew detective books, and Nancy, the glamorous teen sleuth, has a "sporty roadster" and races around looking for clues and cracking the case with the top down, or riding with her two girlfriends to a college sock-hop to meet her handsome co-ed boyfriend, Ned Nickerson.
The image of a woman driving (not just passively riding in) a convertible is a uniquely American icon. From American Graffiti, to Jayne Mansfield in her pink convertible, to Thelma and Louise running from the law--and finally flooring it off a cliff, sailing through the air in a big, blue convertible. Barbie had a convertible. A convertible sports car seems to conjure both traditional feminine glamour, and defiant rebelliousness; freedom from other people and what they think (sun and wind in hair, driving AWAY) and subconsciously knowing "it looks good" while you're doing it. Convertibles may seem attractive because their drivers are visible and on display (something, obviously, particularly associated with women), but they also subtly imply power, independence and action. If convertibles seem like an accessory more than a car, they remind you both of Marilyn Monroe's lipstick, and Thelma and Louise's gun.
In a recent Detroit Free Press story, the writer argued that the three 'trendiest' new cars are the BMW Z3, Porsche Boxster and Mercedes SLK, while the 'coolest' cars may be retro classics like a restored Bug convertible or a sleek 60's American ragtop. So, what women have always liked, seems to be becoming what everybody's busy liking these days. If statistically women car buyers still tend to opt for practicality, purchasing under $20,000 sedans, it may be because of income disparity or prudence--buying what they need, rather than what they want. When the dollars are there, women actually tend to go for the very sportiest cars on the market--fancy SUVs and convertible sports cars.
According to the same Detroit Free Press article, in 1997 women purchased more than half of the high-end ($30,000-plus) sport-utilities in 1997. Minivan sales, associated with the weary soccer mom, are in a sales slump these days, and that may be because 90% of their buyers are women, who are now rejecting that staid image in favor of something more racy. If you're after 'sporty' in the 1990's you have lots more options than in the 50's: sport-utilities, sport trucks, and sporty coupes. While women are part of the truck craze like everybody else, they still are loyal to their sporty convertibles. BMW officials claim that their vehicle that attracts the biggest percentage of women is their 3-series convertible. Ford market research from 10 years ago shows that about 45% of all Mustang convertible buyers were women. All manufacturers of convertibles know that women butter a good portion of their bread.
Carmakers have, however, been rather slow to realize that increasingly women ARE the mainstream car buyers. 30 or 40 years ago they marketed to them as a cute minority--at times in quite outrageous and literal ways. For instance, in 1956 Jayne Mansfield put mink seat covers and trim into her topless Lincoln Continental and the male think-tank at Dodge introduced a car called "La Femme." La Femme was a pink convertible with rose upholstery tapestry that came with a matching lipstick, compact, purse and rain bonnet! Mirrors and beauty gadgets abounded, and the car failed miserably. The New York Times reported in 1997 that one of the Big Three makers actually promoted the fact that their engineers put paper clips on their nails to design controls that would be easy to operate with long fingernails.
These anecdotes from Detroit's Dark Ages are thankfully becoming scarcer. Ford, in fact, is pushing hard to get women designers and engineers to re-think their cars. It's a very good idea if you like to sell cars: women are now buying half the new cars and trucks in the U.S. (up from 20% in 1984, and 28% in 1990). By 2000, 60% of all car buyers are expected to be women. The New York Times has also published stats that show that their reach is even greater than that: each woman customer influences between 10 and 12 other women, and women influence 80% of all auto buying decisions. Maybe that's why there's currently a rebirth of retro, sporty convertibles on the market now. In the 70's, the grim oil crisis and safety concerns almost killed the American convertible off. Those days are over. Sales jumped 20% in 1996, and haven't looked back. In part, you can credit the auto industry with improving convertibles, so that they are actually reasonable cars to drive with the top up in the snow. Models are increasingly designed as convertibles, with a solid body structure and a tight-sealing top, with reasonable trunk and cargo space, and more horsepower. Rather than merely chopping the top off an existing, uninspired sedan, and waiting for the rattles to begin, convertibles are less impractical and better made than ever.
And never have there been so many desirable versions of 'that car' I had in my head growing up--that candy-colored, slightly retro, glamorous convertible roadster--with many more coming in future model years. When I called Mercedes about the marketing demographics for their SLK, they said they attracted a number of first-time buyers in their 30's, and a lot of women--Me! (income aside...) Just because women have such historic affection for convertibles, doesn't mean they necessarily like cute, "feminine" versions, or that these open-air cars on the market are "feminine" in any way. Women may love these roadsters the best, but their appeal cuts across all lines. More choices, more new models, a wider price spectrum... That powder-yellow classic roadster with the top down that resides in my mind is now very much a reality. I hope I can afford one before the fashions change. For now, they ARE the 'thing'. |
|
