1958 Chevrolet Impala Sport Coupé

"Newest heartthrob in sight — the Impala Sport Coupe. Longer by over nine inches, lower by more than two, the Impala, like every '58 Chevy, wears the look of a car just naturally born for the road. Begin at its massive new grille and multiple roadlights . . . sweep your glance along its taut, sleek length. This is the newest — that's for sure!"

In light of the well-proportioned 1955 - 1957 Chevrolets, the design of their successor seems like an odd deviation from a winning formula. Yet, when the development of the 1958 models began in mid 1955, nobody knew that the just introduced Tri-Five Chevys would once become a Fifties classic. The forward-looking zeitgeist of the 1950s aroused rapid change rather than refinement, and thus, the divergent look of the 1958 lineup is the somewhat logical consequence of Harley Earls push for ever more glamour on all GM cars.

Especially Virgil Exner's stunning "Forward Look" Mopars of 1955 had surprised the GM designers which were used to be the undisputed trend setters in American automotive styling since the 1930s. Now, the competition began to catch up and overtake. Harley Earl's answer to the threat was simply more flash and more flamboyance. Thus came the 1958 model year, in which the previously decently styled GM models changed into heavy looking chrome monsters.

Although showing the most sedate design of all GM models for 1958, Chevrolet clearly aimed at the lower end of the luxury field with the new Impala. This was a daring move from GM's budget division, even if moving up was a general industry trend these days: Ford had just introduced the upscale Edsel brand with much fanfare and with the same goal. Edsel failed miserably, but the pudgy and pretentious 1958 Chevrolets reclaimed the perennial number one sales rank that Chevy had lost to Ford in 1957 with the very models that are today acclaimed icons of American car styling.

To make the Impala Coupe stand out in Chevrolet’s lineup, the designers under studio chief Clare MacKichan employed some interesting trickery. A shorter and tighter cabin effectively altered the car's proportions: the extended trunk and the lower roof, down by 1.4 inches (35mm), made the coupe appear much longer than the other 1958 Chevrolets, even if they shared the same wheelbase and overall length. Additional chrome trim, faux air scoops and six tail lights instead of four clearly showed you who was the boss in the economy class.

Fortunately, the hefty 1958 Chevrolets should last only one summer as GM's bean counters had anyway planned to set all GM models on a redesigned common platform with many more shared parts for 1959. This gave the GM stylists the opportunity to correct their styling mishap and, through subtle but definite insurrection against Harley Earl's design decree, develop much leaner looking shapes for the 1959 lineup. Read more about that here.

1974 Datsun B-210

"Datsun. A lot of miles per gallon. A lot of miles per car."

Quite a few owners of vintage cars in Cuba swear to god that theirs is the only one existing on the island. If the driver of our pictured Datsun would tell such thing, we'd believe him right away. This quirky Japanese car is a truly singular sight on the island.

The B-210 was already the third generation of Datsun's compact "Sunny", and it's a nice example for the sometimes pretty quirky Japanese designs of the era. According to Nissan's Service Bulletin, Vol. 188 of 1973, the B-210 was developed "to be more likable and satisfactory to a greater number of people", by sporting a "Streamline and a Cut" exterior design theme and an "Oval Scoop Cockpit". Sounds funny today, but the relentless analysis of customer needs made the previously irrelevant Japanese imports so successful in the American market.

It was fortunate timing, too, when the Datsun Sunny B-210 was presented in 1973: the first oil crisis was ramping up, and the frugal Japanese econobox soon became extremely popular. Datsun even introduced an extra-frugal 2-door sedan edition, called "Honey Bee": a bright yellow hue with contrasting black deco strips and labels made the "Honey Bee" truly look like a caricature version of Dodge's "Super Bee" muscle cars. Well, at least it grabbed attention.

More attention grabbing, however, was the Datsun's fuel economy, on which the advertisement happily focused: "Datsun's gas economy is nothing new. We've been building economy cars for 43 years, and we seem to get better with age. Take our 1976 Datsun B-210. The latest EPA fuel economy tests record the B-210 at 41 MPG at the highway, 29 MPG in the city. (*EPA dynamometer estimate with manual transmission. Actual MPG may be more or less, depending on the condition of your car and how you drive.) Better than last year!"

1950 Cadillac Series 62 Sedan

"A Cadillac owner is, understandably, a most severe critic of motor cars. For, through the years, he has grown accustomed to nothing than the finest in personal transportation. . . . It is of particular significance, therefore, that these experienced Cadillac owners should be — as they are — so unqualified in their praise of the new 1950 Cadillacs. For nowhere could be found more convincing evidence that these new creations are simply 'out of this world'. . . . If you are not yet acquainted with the magnificent new Cadillacs, make arrangements to visit your dealer soon. Now, in his showroom, is visual proof that Cadillac remains — the Standard of the World."

Even battered, this Cadillac whisking through the streets of Havana conveys a lot of the poise and elegance that made the brand so outstanding and irresistible to its customers.

A small gimmick did catapult Cadillac to the pinnacle of automotive fashion: when introducing the first tailfins in 1948, nobody imagined that this single feature would become the item which should define a whole decade of American car styling. The rest is history: everybody fell in line and till the end of the 1950s, these tailfins would rise to excessive format.

The tailfins of our pictured 1950 model are nearly identical to those from 1948. The rest of the car got subtly but noticeably restyled for 1950: the prouder and more upright bonnet and front fenders, which extend through the doors to form a pronounced shoulder line, show a clearly more angular styling, and those long, straight volumes express a certain serenity.

The beholder's eye was probably more drawn to the shiny embellishments than to the conservative basic architecture. The vertical dummy "air intake" at the rear fender, the tombstone front grille and the aforementioned tailfins changed ever so slightly each year, while the typical Cadillac look was always preserved. That's what Cadillac did best — keeping a reassuring continuity of style while introducing enough visual change to lure more customers into buying an "all-new" Cadillac each year. And how they did: Cadillac passed the 100,000 sales mark in 1950, leaving America's other luxury brands — Lincoln and Packard — far, far behind.

1958 Fiat 1200 Granluce

"The Fiat 1200 full-light saloon is an elegant car of brilliant performance. Mechanical units derived from the 1100, but with a 1221 c.c. engine developing more power at all speeds. Greater acceleration. Speed about 140 km (87 miles) p.h."

One wonders how the oh-so-emotional Italians could ever bring themselves to advertise one of their cars in such a dry and factual way, especially when the principal reason for the development of the Fiat 1200 was to stir up emotions. Soon after the launch of the "Nuova Millecento", quite a few customers began asking for a beefier engine. The Fiat engineers under Dante Giacosa determined that the light monocoque chassis of the Fiat 1100 could easily handle more power, and decided to mount a 1,221 ccm engine, which should also power the sporty 1200 TV Spider. Yet, they didn't stop there.

Like Sir Alec Issigonis at Morris, Fiat's Dante Giacosa was one of those engineering principals that highly valued aesthetics, and thus, he endorsed a visual "upgrade" of the new 1200. Now, it's common sense that structural body parts of a car, especially roof and glass area, are the most expensive parts to modify, and they usually don't get touched unless it's absolutely necessary. Instead, carmakers change only the outer sheet metal when doing a facelift, while the structural body remains unchanged throughout the life cycle. The Italians, however, went the opposite way: roof and glass area of the new Fiat 1200 became entirely renewed while the outer sheet metal remained unchanged.

This was a costly decision, but the result did prove the Italian engineers right. Compared to its predecessor, the "new" Fiat looked clean and ultra-modern upon its presentation in late 1957, and was clearly a car of the 1960s, anticipating the trend to more angular shapes that should emerge in the U.S. with the Chevrolet Corvair two years later.

Because of its airy cabin, the Fiat 1200 was christened "Granluce" which the respective export markets literally translated into "Full-Light" or "Grande Vue". The U.S.-bound Fiats were imported by Max Hoffmann of New York, and certainly looked strange beside all the BMWs, Alfa Romeos, Healeys or Porsches that usually populated Hofmann's showrooms. Our pictured Fiat, however, as its owner proudly emphasizes, came to Cuba directly from Italy in 1958, and remained within the family ever since.

1951 Chevrolet Styleline DeLuxe Station Wagon

"It combines the smartness and distinction of a wood-grained finish with the strength and safety of an all-steel body. And that means it's more quiet, more durable, easier to keep new and shining. Four doors provide easy access for eight passengers and the rear seats may readily be removed when extra hauling space is required."

Back in 1951, station wagons were still made for folks that needed room to carry stuff, and this Chevy nicely shows it in its exuberant proportions. Quite soon, these load haulers would fall prey to Harley Earl's relentless quest for "longer, lower, wider" cars, too, and while certainly gaining showroom appeal, they would loose a lot of their practicality. Nobody mourned, though: style over substance became the trend of the times, and buyers happily adapted their aspirations to the grand scheme of automotive fashion.

Station wagon conversions in that era were traditionally built from wood. Chevrolet offered wooden station wagons since 1939, and had outsourced their production to J.T. Cantrell & Co. and Ionia coachbuilders, while postwar Chevys were solely built by Ionia and Fisher. The first few station wagons of our pictured generation were still true "Woodies" when introduced in 1949, comprising a wooden tailgate and side window frames. But not for long: already halfway through the model year, Chevrolet changed to a modern all-steel design. They only came in second, though: Plymouth had presented the first American all-steel Suburban already in June 1949.

Perhaps not to alienate the customers, these all-steel station wagons retained their "Woody" look through 1952. Chevrolet simply placed a fake wood-grain decal in place of the original wooden parts, and accordingly, the public soon dubbed these wagons "Tin Woody". That decal is long gone on our pictured car. With a sticker price of $2,191, the station wagons were by the way the most expensive Chevrolets by far: a convertible did cost $1,647, and a fancy Bel Air hardtop coupe 1,914 bucks. It comes to no surprise that the station wagons are a rare sight in Cuba today, as production numbers were low: out of more than 1.2 million Chevrolet buyers in 1951, only 23,586 customers would opt for the Chevy station wagon.