Monday, Mar. 21, 1983
Deciding to Go Topless
By John S. DeMott.
In one of his many spirited gambles, Lee Iacocca three years ago had the body of a K-car sent from Chrysler's proving grounds near Detroit to a custom auto body shop in California. There the car was rebuilt into a convertible and secretly shipped back East. When Iacocca drove it around Boca Raton, Fla., in the winter of 1981, it won instant admirers. That limited market survey helped convince him that the potential demand for a revived convertible was bigger than anyone imagined.
Though no major American automaker had built a convertible' since 1976, 'proved dead-on in his sense of what car buyers want. From the moment they went on sale, the Chrysler LeBaron convertible and its sister car, the Dodge 400, were smashing successes: 24,000 were sold in 1982, vs. 3,000 projected by Chrysler researchers. The four-seat LeBarons were snapped up, at $1 1,000 to $15,000 apiece, by celebrity trend setters, as well as by ordinary folks looking for a little dazzle.
Other convertibles were available in the U.S., of course, when Iacocca began cruising around Boca Raton in his custom-made number, but nearly all were prohibitively expensive imports that served mainly as playthings for the rich and as auto-show mouth waterers. The principal exception was Volkswagen's Rabbit, introduced to replace the Beetle in 1980. Crafted by Karmann, 12,114 of the ragtop Rabbits were sold in 1981 (price: $10,000) at a handsome profit. In addition, small customizing companies in states like Florida, California and Michigan have been cutting the steel tops off cars since the late '70s and turning them into convertibles for 20,000 to 25,000 fanatical owners a year.
Iacocca's LeBaron crystallized this ephemeral market, got Detroit thinking topless once again and started the convertible renaissance. Other U.S. makers are now weighing in with competitively priced models of their own. Chevrolet, aiming at what General Manager Robert Stempel calls the "wind-in-the-face crowd," is planning to introduce a version of its Cavalier in May, probably priced between $10,000 and $12,000. Ford's Mustang was reissued in November as a smartly styled convertible for about $12,500 and was a big star in commercials during the Super Bowl. Early production problems have been ironed out, and Ford executives now foresee sales of 30,000 to 35,000 for their convertible.
Aside from the Mustang, LeBaron's only other Big Four counterpart already on the market is Buick's Riviera convertible, which came out in April. At about $25,000, the soft-top Buick is less a competitor than an elegant showpiece car, one of the most expensive built in America. Only about 2,000 have been sold.
More models are coming from still other makers. This month West Germany's Porsche will sell its first convertible in the U.S. in 18 years. Price: $34,000. Mercedes has always offered elegant toplessness for the elite. Its 380 SL goes for $43,000.
In the beginning, almost all U.S. cars were "convertibles," so-called touring cars open to the air. Sedans were the exception. In his 1925 novel Arrowsmith, Sinclair Lewis wrote of "enclosed motors" as luxuries. Closed cars became standard, though, in the 1920s. By 1927 about 83% of all U.S. autos were enclosed, creating a booming market for gasoline and other auto products because cars were being driven year round. After World War II the convertible again began to rise in favor. By the mid-1960s, half a million convertibles were selling yearly, accounting for 7% of car sales. All the major automakers had versions, including Chevy's Corvette and Ford's Thunderbird. Automen, ever macho, called convertibles the "mistress every man wants."
They turned out to be just as vulnerable. By 1974 convertible production had dropped to 50,000 a year. The ragtops were done in by efficient auto air conditioning, hardtop styling and vinyl roofs that gave cars a convertible look at much less cost, other snazzy top variations like the sunroof, and rising crime. Vandals could easily slash a soft top, break in and make off with the vehicle or any prized part thereof.
Worries about safety in rollover crashes proved to be the final blow. By the mid-1970s, convertibles had become rarities. American Motors stopped making them in 1967, Chrysler in 1971, Ford in 1973, Chevy in 1975. Finally, on April 21, 1976, what was then called the last American convertible rolled off the Cadillac assembly line, with Detroit Mayor Coleman Young as a passenger. The car was a white Eldorado with red-and-blue pinstriping, commemorating --and attempting to make a profit from -- the Bicentennial. Two hundred of those cars were made, each selling for about $11,000 ($25,000 in today's dollars). Edward C. Kennard, Cadillac's general manager, said at the time: "Like the running board and the rumble seat, the convertible is an item that history has passed by." Not quite.
Iacocca intends to follow the LeBaron this year with an other convertible, a Chrysler Town and Country, nicknamed the Woody, because it is patterned after postwar station wagons that were wood-paneled on the outside. The new car's wood is plastic -- some critics say cheesy -- and a comedown from the snappy-looking LeBaron. For next year Iacocca is planning still for new convertible, a two-seater that will sell for $20,000 and look shamelessly like a Mercedes; he even refers to it as "the Mercedes."
Not all of Detroit's makers are joining the move to convertibles. Says American Motors Chairman Paul Tippett: "We think they are a fad." Indeed, there are a few signs that the new market is in a lull. Chrysler has cut production of its convertibles to 100 a day from 250 and slashed the price of its Dodge 400 by 25% from $13,500 to below $10,000.
Convertible sales may peak in a couple of years at about 50,000 to 75,000 a year, although other estimates run as high as 150,000. That would be a good market and a profitable one, but not as strong as 20 years ago. Prospective convertible buyers, however, do not care about those boring statis tics. What they want is the wind in their hair once more. As for dealers, the most important thing about convertibles is their uplifting effect on sales. Says Ed Rikess, a Chevy dealer in St. Paul: "If we get people in to see it, we can move 50% of them into something else." --By John S. DeMott. Reported by Dorothy Ferenbaugh/New York and Paul A. Witteman/Detroit
With reporting by Dorothy Ferenbaugh/New York and Paul A. Witteman/Detroit
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