Here’s one solid candidate for the title of most garish Cadillac dream car ever conceived: the gold-trimmed, animal-skinned 1950 Cadillac Debutante. ​

​When chrome and leather aren’t enough, how do you kick things up a notch? With 24-karat gold plating and exotic animal skins, evidently. That was the apparent strategy behind the Cadillac Debutante dream car, built for display at the 1950 Chicago Auto Show and at the General Motors Mid-Century Motorama, which was staged at the Waldorf Astoria in Manhattan that same year. In the company’s press materials, the Debutante was described as “the most luxurious Cadillac ever constructed,” and its value was  estimated at $35,000.
A Detroit furrier was commissioned to obtain the 14 choice animal skins, described as “Somaliland Leopard from the East Coast of Africa,” that were used to cover the upper portions of the the front and rear seats and portions of the door panels, while the seat lowers were upholstered in opalescent gray nylon silk. (Today we’ve found a more practical use for leopard skins: on leopards.) Adding to the spectacle, all the interior trim including the instrument bezels, horn rings, and door handles—and even the ignition key—were plated 24-karat gold.
Based on an otherwise production-spec Series 61 convertible, the Debutante was painted a bright shade of canary yellow, which Cadillac called Tawny Yellow Buff, then prepped for show duty, as shown below. What became of the car after that is unknown, but as with so many one-off GM show cars, it is presumed to be lost and destroyed.

In the 1950s, dream cars from the Motor City usually looked into the future, but the Packard Request looked into the company’s glorious past.
According to Packard designer Richard A. Teague, the 1955 Request show car came to be when company president James Nance asked him to create a modern vehicle that incorporated the vertical Packard radiator shell. “Just hundreds of people asked for a return to the classic Packard grille,” Teague told author George Hamlin for Special Interest Autos magazine decades later. “Dealers, people on the outside. They would write in. These people just felt that the wide horizontal grille (which was by then industry vogue) didn’t carry the same impression, the Packard feeling, that the old grille did.”
Hence the show car’s name, which Teague selected himself: Packard Request. So while most factory dream cars of the ’50s were attempts to reach into the future, the Request was an effort to revisit the grand old company’s past glories.

​Initial drawings and clay studies were based on the production 1954 Packard, then transferred to the updated ’55 sheet metal package (the illustrations above are from Popular Mechanics, February 1955). As Teague noted, the job was far more complex than simply pasting a traditional stand-up grille shell onto a modern front end. Considerable finesse was required to make it look right. Teague credited fellow Packard stylist Dick Collier for establishing the essential look.
Construction of the Request was assigned to Creative Industries of Detroit, the Motor City’s leading specialist in prototypes and special projects for the automakers. A not-quite complete 400 two-door hardtop was plucked off the assembly line at Conner Avenue and sent to Creative, where the unique front end and other features were fabricated and installed. While the hood was fiberglass, the massive split front bumpers and grille assembly were formed from heavy-gauge steel and reportedly weighed more than 400 lbs. Other touches included custom-built tail lamps and Caribbean-style interior and exterior trim pieces.

​Once completed, the Request was sent out to tour the 1955 car show circuit, where by all accounts it was a popular attraction. But by then, of course, Packard styling was already headed off in an entirely different direction, the one represented by the Ghia-built 1956 Predictor dream car. And as we know now, unfortunately, the company didn’t have long to live anyway. Somehow, in the disorder and confusion as the company shut down its Detroit operations in 1956 and production was moved to Indiana, the car simply disappeared, as the story goes.
The one-off show car wasn’t seen again until decades later in Oregon, where it was recovered and restored. Today the Request resides in the collection of Packard mega-enthusiast Ralph Marano. Below is one more look at the Request with designer Richard Teague, left, and William T. Graves, Packard’s vice president of engineering.

This good-looking but seldom seen 1969 show car, the Super Cobra, was the work of the ultra-talented GM and Ford designer Larry Shinoda. ​

​Larry Shinoda wasn’t at the Ford Motor Company very long, barely more than a year, but he made quite a splash while he was there. In May of 1968 the gifted General Motors stylist followed his friend and boss Bunkie Knudsen to Ford, where Knudsen was appointed president, only to be fired in September of 1969 shortly after Knudsen was forced out. But while he was there, Shinoda designed the Boss 302 and Boss 429 Mustangs and the Torino Talladega, to name a few, and a whole fleet of concepts and show cars including this one: the Ford Super Cobra.

​Construction of the Super Cobra has been credited here and there to the Italian coachbuilder Vignale of Turin, but we’re not certain about that. Based on a production Fairlane fastback, the coupe bore a strong familial resemblance to another Shinoda showpiece from ’69, the Ranchero Scrambler. (See our feature on the Scrambler here.)  According to the press materials, the production Fairlane SportsRoof top was chopped two inches and the nose was stretched eight inches, giving the Super Cobra a dramatic, almost missile-like profile. A familiar Ford marketing tagline in those days was “The Going Thing,” and Shinoda clearly had a talent for producing vehicles that looked the part.
The Super Cobra was powered by Ford’s hot 428 cubic-inch Cobra Jet V8, sporting a taller version of the production Shaker through-the-hood air-scoop assembly. The two-tone cabin upholstery was described as “Candy Murano and Hot Red,” the better to complement the eyeball-searing Candy Apple Red exterior paint. The equally exuberant rear end treatment (below) featured a louvered backlite, a Shinoda trademark, and a wraparound spoiler with full-width tail lamp assembly. The machine made its debut at the Chicago Auto Show in February of 1969 and was also displayed at the Detroit Auto Show, but disappeared from public view not long after that. What became of the car? We don’t know this, but it’s reasonable to suspect that when Shinoda was terminated at the Ford Motor Company, the Super Cobra was dismissed as well.

​The fertile imaginations of automotive designers have produced awe-inspiring renderings of idea cars with thought-provoking innovations. The freedom to explore new horizons, without having to be overly concerned about current production viability which could stymie creativity, has fostered positive results like those shown here.
Ford designer Charlie McHose, who's also known for conceiving the body enhancements for the legendary 1967 Shelby G.T. 500, made these Mustang concept drawings of what would become the Mach 1 experimental car, as FoMoCo referred to it at the time. Because the renderings likely pushed the limits of what was feasible, even for a concept car, the actual Mach 1 built for show duty in late 1966 didn’t incorporate a number of the ideas depicted.
Nevertheless, it was still quite the attention grabber with some GT40 traits incorporated, a dramatically lowered roofline, two-seat layout, and flip-out toll windows. Mirrors were added to the fixed side windows and large quick-release gas caps were installed. The front and rear treatments were revised, but they differed somewhat from the renderings. Additionally, the Shelby-like lamps in the grille, the power dome hood, and the lower scoop shown in the lead drawing in this article weren’t used on the Mach 1. More intriguing elements presented in the renderings are discussed in the captions below.
The professional legacy of Charlie McHose endures in the remarkable designs he created at Ford. Fortunately, we can still appreciate these works of art and what their creator had envisioned in them. Just imagine blasting out of your local Ford dealer’s lot in a Mustang with the styling and equipment depicted here.

​The first El Camino from General Motors wasn’t a Chevy pickup but a one-off Cadillac show car created for the 1954 Motorama.

​General Motors has gotten plenty of mileage out of the El Camino name over the years, primarily on a familiar series of passenger car-based pickups produced by Chevrolet in 1959-60 and from 1964 to 1987. (The nameplate was inspired by El Camino Real, the King’s Highway, a 600-mile road in Spanish California.) But a few years earlier, the name was first used on a 1954 Cadillac Motorama dream car.

​The design of El Camino the first is attributed to Cadillac styling manager Ken Glowacke, leading a team of young stylists that included future GM design star David Holls, and it’s said that Holls was a major contributor to the final design. A rakish, close-coupled two-place coupe, the car foreshadowed a number of styling futures that would soon appear on Cadillac production vehicles.
+   The brushed stainless steel roof panel that later featured on the 1957 El Dorado Brougham.
+   The sharply tailored tailfins, which next turned up on the 1955-56 El Dorado Biarritz Convertible, followed by the rest of the Cadillac line for 1957-58.
+   Quad headlamps, which also were featured on the El Dorado Brougham in 1957, then adopted for all Cadillacs across the board from 1958 on.

​The 1954 Motorama tour, which opened at the Waldorf Astoria on January 26, also included a sibling to the El Camino: La Espada, similar in most respects but with some trim variations and constructed in a convertible body style. La Espada is shown above at the luxurious Key Biscayne Hotel in Miami, a popular destination for GM photo shoots in the Harley Earl years.
Like most of the Motorama show cars, El Camino and La Espada were constructed on modified production car chassis with fiberglass bodies. But unlike many of the idea cars from the Motor City in the ’50s, the El Camino was reportedly fully functional and road worthy, sporting a 331 cubic-inch V8 and Hydra-Matic transmission. The eventual fate of the original El Camino has never been officially verified, but after all these years the car is lost and presumed to be destroyed.

​Also known as the X-P Rocket in some of the Motorama handouts, the Starfire carried the GM internal designation SO 1621. Like its two-seater sibling, the Olds F-88 show car, the Starfire wore bullet-shaped plastic covers over its headlamps and a wraparound windshield, a pet Harley Earl development that first saw limited production on the Cadillac Eldorado and Oldsmobile Fiesta. Mounted on a shortened Olds production car chassis, the Starfire’s glass-fiber reinforced plastic body displayed a number of current and future Oldsmobile styling cues, including a pair of familiar rocket-inspired tail lamps. According to GM, the Starfire’s 303 CID Olds Rocket V8, usually rated at 165 hp, was souped up to 300 hp.

​The Starfire made its debut in the first Motorama show of 1953 at the Waldorf Astoria in New York along with a number of now-famous GM show cars, including the Pontiac La Parisienne and the original Corvette prototype. Speaking of Corvettes, we note that the Starfire’s instrument panel (above) bears a passing resemblance to the ’53 Corvette dash. For its part, the Starfire also featured a padded insert between the front bucket seats—folding, we presume—and the aforementioned rear seat with room for two more passengers, all upholstered in two-tone leather.
We don’t know if there was ever any specific production intent for the one-of-one Starfire show car, but we do note that the Starfire name was quickly adopted for a whole series of Oldsmobile production models that spanned several decades. For 1954 through 1956, all 98 convertibles wore the Starfire name, and in 1957 all the 98 body styles shared the designation. The Starfire name was dropped for 1958, only to return in 1961-67 as an upmarket sports-luxury model on the GM B-Body platform. The name then returned one final time on the 1975-80 Olds Starfire, a rebadged and mildly facelifted version of the Chevy Monza three-door hatchback.

​We have a special thing for the obscure factory show cars of the Motor City, and few are more obscure than the 1966 Rambler St. Moritz station wagon.

Unveiled at the Chicago Auto Show in February of 1966, the Rambler St. Moritz is sort of an odd fit in the design timeline at American Motors. Nothing like the advanced and exciting Project IV vehicles rolled out a bit later in June of that year by AMC design chief Richard Teague, the St. Moritz was based on a production Rambler Classic Cross Country station wagon, but with a twist. The gimmick, if you will, was a custom greenhouse with a pair of curved observation windows for the rear seat passengers.

​Named after the famed ski resort town in the Swiss Alps, of course, the St. Moritz was constructed around a winter sports theme with a ski rack on top and and a snowflake motif for the interior. There were three rows of seats, with the rearmost seats facing the rear (known in the car biz as “Dramamine seating”) and upholstery in dark blue Dupont Corfam, a simulated leather product of days gone by. Snowflakes embroidered in metallic thread completed the winter sports theme inside, while the exterior paint was a snowy ice-blue/white in candy pearl. The roof area between the two large glass panels was trimmed out in stainless steel.
We don’t know this, but we’re guessing that the massive side glass was constructed in acrylic plastic—Plexiglass or suchlike. On a one-off show car with little production intent and a shelf life of one season at best, real glass would have been a fiendishly expensive undertaking. (As a side note, the production Classic wagon for ’66 used contrasting two-tone paint that approximated the look of the St. Moritz greenhouse.) Except for a press release and a handful of photos, little seems to remain of the Rambler St. Moritz, and we assume the wagon was scrapped long ago.

​Corvette prototypes have taken countless forms over the years. Here’s a furtive attempt at a 1963 Sting Ray four-seater from GM Styling.

The Chevrolet Corvette story, which now spans eight decades, features a number of fascinating twists and turns along the way. Here’s one that, fortunately for the Corvette legacy—in our opinion, anyway—never got the green light for production: a four-seat version of the 1963 Corvette Sting Ray.

​In Corvette lore, the executive responsible for the 2+2 Sting Ray (internal code name XP-796) was GM’s powerful car and truck boss, Ed Cole, who looked on in envy as the four-place Ford Thunderbird continued to rack up impressive sales figures year after year. Of course, the notion of a Corvette with a rear seat was not entirely original (read our feature on the 1956 Corvette Impala here) and in the Motor City, the traditional rule of thumb is that a two-seater is a niche product by definition, while a four-seat package has real volume potential. The ’63 Sting Ray redesign was an expensive and ambitious undertaking for Chevrolet, so we can understand Cole’s instinct for covering his bets.

​While the GM styling crew led by Bill Mitchell reportedly hated the four-seat Sting Ray variant, they did an admirable job trying to make the proportions work out. In the photo at the top of this page, a careful camera angle nearly conceals the awkward stretch job, but a normal side view gives away the game: The chassis and the graceful Sting Ray profile have been stretched a good six inches to create a rear passenger area. And even so, the folding 2+2 seating (above) is probably even less comfortable than it looks.
The one-off prototype was shown to the company brass in around January of 1962 in the GM styling studios, parked next to a new Thunderbird to provide the obvious competitive benchmark. It was there, as the story goes, that GM president John F. Gordon was trying out the rear seat when a front seat latch jammed, trapping him inside. And although he was quickly rescued, that, they say, was pretty much the end of the four-seat Sting Ray project.

​Conceived by GM styling boss Bill Mitchell, the Silver Arrow III was a dramatic reinterpretation of the production boattail Riviera introduced in 1971.

Introduced at the 1972 Detroit Auto Show at Cobo Hall, the Silver Arrow III boasted a number of advanced features, including four-wheel disc brakes and Max Trac, an early form of electronic traction control that was offered on the production Riviera as well. Above the backlight at the trailing edge of the roof was a set of high-level warning lamps that also served as secondary directional indicators. Additional show-car touches included a fully chromed and detailed 455 CID Buick V8 under the hood.
When the Silver Arrow III appeared on show floor at Detroit, Chicago, and elsewhere in 1972, we’re not quite sure what the ultimate effect was, except perhaps to throw some shade on the more conservatively styled production Riviera. It is known that Mitchell was quite proud of the two Silver Arrows—here, below, he’s shown posing with the pair. Both Silver Arrow I and Silver Arrow III are still in existence today.   -Photos courtesy of General Motors. ​

Another intriguing automotive mystery: Whatever became of the one-of-one 1965 Mustang concept created by Carrozzeria Bertone of Italy? Could it still exist?
First shown at the New York International Auto Show in the spring of 1965, the stunning Mustang Bertone was commissioned from the renowned Turinese coachbuilding firm by a magazine publisher:  L. Scott Bailey, founder of Automobile Quarterly, the ritzy hardbound car periodical. (It ceased publication in 2012.) The designer was none other than Giorgetto Giugiaro, then just 27, a few years before he ventured out on his own to launch his own famous studio, Ital Design. In New York, the Italian Mustang took best of show honors, and it was a sensation at the London, Paris, and Turin motor shows as well. Then the car disappeared from view and it hasn’t been seen in public since.

​The Bertone Mustang bears far more resemblance to familiar Giugiaro designs like the Iso Grifo and the Fiat Dino than to any Ford Motor Company product. Even the Ford wheels were exchanged for Bertone-designed Campagnolo magnesium castings. The quad headlights were hidden behind electrically operated grille doors, and as the story goes, the radiator and front bulkhead were sectioned to accommodate the Bertone’s slimmer profile, a good two inches lower than a production Mustang. According to Bailey, Italian stylists didn’t think much of the production Mustang’s styling, finding it too ordinary and sedan-like.
Wearing distinctive silver-turquoise metallic paint, the Bertone Mustang made its next appearance on the cover of Road & Track magazine in January of 1966, below. There would be one more appearance in print, also in Road & Track: a Bertone ad in the September 1967 issue listed the Mustang for sale with an asking price of $10,000, “one-third its actual cost.” From there, the Mustang has never been seen or heard from again, apparently. Before he passed away in 2012, Bailey attempted to track down the unique Mustang, but nothing ever turned up.