Good news! I’m starting a new recurring series that I’ll probably update, at best sporadically! Maybe I’ll forget about it entirely? Who can say? We like to keep things exciting here. The series is called Glorious Garbage and it’s going to feature and highlight one of my favorite categories of car: crap, but somehow strangely desirable crap. Well, desirable to me, possibly less desirable to people who didn’t grow up in the era of leaded gas and all its well-established harmful effects on brains. These will be cars that are unquestionably miserable garbage but have that questionable appeal I allude to. A certain je ne sais merde, if you will. I’m not sure there’s a better way to explain it than by just giving an example, and I think the example I have for you today conveys the concept perfectly: the Dodge DeTomaso.
Yes, the Dodge DeTomaso, and if that name confuses you, good, because that just means you have adequate bloodflow to your brain. “That’s just the name of two car companies,” you’re likely screaming, adding “this just sounds like a Volkswagen Maserati or a Chevy Ferrari, it makes no sense!” and you’d be right, were it not for one important thing: money.
You see, the late ’70s and early ’80s were a weird time for DeTomaso, makers of the legendary Mangusta and Pantera exotic sports cars. The 1973 oil crisis severely impaired sales of these powerful, fast, and sadly thirsty cars, and DeTomaso’s deal to sell cars through Ford dealers fell through. Ford bought most of DeTomaso’s shares, but the company still could build Panteras for non-American markets, which it did, in very low volumes. All I’m saying is that things weren’t really booming for DeTomaso in the Year of Our Ford 1980, so what happened next maybe isn’t so surprising.
But before we get there, we need to talk about the Mopar side of things. Even before Holy Trinity of Lee Iacocca, The United States Government, and the K-Car conspired to save Chrysler’s ass, the ass-saving process had already been started in 1974 by Chrysler Europe, which was developing a small FWD, transverse-engined hatchback, much like the Volkswagen Golf/Rabbit or Ford Fiesta, called the Horizon, which would be sold under Chrysler and Simca brands in Europe, and also the Talbot badge when Chrysler Europe was sold to PSA Peugeot-Citroën.
The European-designed-and-engineered Horizon was modified for American tastes a bit (more fake chrome, front suspension changed to McPhearson struts instead torsion bars, more velour) and became the Plymouth Horizon and Dodge Omni. Those cars likely deserve their own stories told, but not here under the Glorious Garbage banner, because I’m not really sure they were either of those words. We want to talk about the Omni/Horizon’s sporty variant, the Omni 024 and Plymouth Horizon TC3. These used the same platform as the Omni/Horizon, but with a new longer, lower, sportier body. This was the Scirocco to the Omni’s Rabbit, a proporionally-changed hatchback design that felt sportier, but wasn’t really all that different from the base econobox under the skin.
I always thought these had a cool look to them, and I remember from growing up around these that the whole plastic front end would easily deform if pushed on with your hand. It’d bounce back, of course, but a car whose shape you could change by just pushing on it was a pretty novel thing for a little kid at the time. Here’s a commercial of the era for an Omni 024, which is compared very favorably with a car that people actually still desire today, something I’m not sure you can really say about the 024 even if you could find one, which you probably can’t:
The Omni 024 came with a Volkswagen-sourced 1.7-liter engine making a ravenous 70 horsepower, or Chrysler’s 2.2-liter inline four that powered so many K-cars, making a slightly better 84 hp. Even at the time, it was pretty well established that the sporty look of these cars was writing checks its drivetrain couldn’t cash, and, incredibly, it seems that it was this very quality that Chrysler doubled down on with the introduction of the Glorious Garbage car I want to tell you about, the Dodge DeTomaso, an Omni 024 with a special DeTomaso package.
How, exactly did this happen? It seems that the friendship between Lee Iacocca and Alejandro de Tomaso is to blame. DeTomaso and Iacocca had been friends since Iacocca was at Ford, and had worked on some interesting projects. This was not one of them.
The most significant engineering challenge undertaken and accomplished by the Dodge DeTomaso was developing the technology to stick the name “DeTomaso” on the car in as many places as possible, and they achieved this goal remarkably well, with the name on both rear fenders, the rear, the windshield, the dashboard, even the floormats.
Those DeTomaso names, plus a stripe kit, louvers over the rear quarter windows, and a fake brushed-metal “targa-ish” bar stuck over the C-pillar area like a hairband made up most of the modifications for the DeTomaso edition. And, really, that was about it. Car and Driver reviewed the DeTomaso in their January 1980 issue, saying that Alejandro de Tomaso pretty much just phoned it in, and that he “just dressed up his namesake in designer sportswear and signed his name.”
It’s hard to argue with that. In that earlier ad I showed you up there the copy reads “Fire up the eager 1.7-liter overhead cam engine and feel the power surge around you.” Just so we’re all clear here, the “power” they’re talking about is only 10 more horses than a VW Beetle made almost a decade earlier and one less than a base-model VW Rabbit made.
The big difference here is that the Rabbit doesn’t have DETOMASO plastered all over it, of course. It’s such an incredible, gleefully cynical example of all show, no go.
Okay, sure, in 1981 these came standard with the slightly more potent 2.2-liter engine, and then at least the 84 horses there were enough to beat the specs of an entry level economy car from VW or Honda, but we’re still not talking about DeTomaso-level performance at any level. The only DeTomaso actually named DeTomaso may be the least DeTomaso car ever to de a tomaso.
All of this non-performance wasn’t cheap, either. The base price of a Dodge 024 was $5,271 – about $20,449 today – and the DeTomaso edition added $1,575 to that price, which comes to about $6,100 worth of decals, louvers, and overpromises and disappointments in today’s money. Maybe that’s why less than 2000 of these were sold.
So, yes, I think we can charitably say that the Dodge DeTomaso was garbage. But, I maintain that it’s Glorious Garbage, because today, this would be a really fun car to own. It has a look that’s aged well in all of its deeply, clinically ’80s glory, and the over-done decals and DeTomaso name everywhere and the whole silly story behind it just makes it even more fun. It’s an anti-snobbery machine, as it can devalue the worth of any real DeTomaso from across any Cars and Coffee parking lot. Bring this to any Radwood-type event and you’ll be a hero. It’s so terrible it wraps around to being fun again, and that’s what makes it great.
Plus, this lazy cash-grab set the stage for Chrysler’s more famous Italian partnership, the Chrysler TC by Maserati. Interestingly, DeTomaso owned Maserati during the Dodge DeTomaso era, and while a Maserati engine was planned for the car, in the end nobody cared enough to make that happen. The Dodge DeTomaso is a perfect foreshadowing of the half-assery of the TC by Maserati partnership, and despite both cars being flops, it’s important to remember that both exist mostly because of the friendship between Iacocca and DeTomaso, and there’s something beautiful about that.
Two garbage cars, borne out of one strong friendship. It’s downright heartwarming.
Perhaps even more surprising Daihatsu had a Charade De Tomaso version. With a twincam 3 cylinder turbo!
My brother had the regular version, the Daihatsu Charade GTti. With a barely one litre engine, but 101 horses. It went as a rocketship, was fun seeing much bigger cars being let behind by it at the lights.
> The European-designed-and-engineered Horizon was
… a flaming, spiteful pile of vulture poo after a large feast on maggoty carrion.
I called mine an Event Horizon. “You can’t leave. She won’t let you.”
My wife had an Omni when we were first dating. I was pretty new to cars and the VW markings on the engine block confused the hell out of me.
That thing was a mess. The rear shocks were just freely floating on top because rust had eaten that part of the car. If I remember right, there wasn’t even any trim in the cargo area so you could clearly see the problem.
I’d still take a GLH(S).
Mine was 6 years old and sub-100k miles when I got it.
* the whole exhaust / muffler assembly and straps were rusted out (in coastal, temperate California, no less) and dragged on the ground.
* the hatch strut was broken so the hatch didn’t stay up. I had a piece of 2×4 to prop it open.
* one of the front doors only opened from the inside.
* the engine would overheat if you looked at it funny.
Eventually the head gasket gave up the ghost and the repair was more than I had paid for the car.
Absolute trash.
> the era of leaded gas and all its well-established harmful effects on brains.
Jason liked that so much he recently aerosolized lead for fun.
I came to the comments to say something similar.
Even if Jason forgets the incident due to the aerosolised lead poisoning, the rest of us won’t!
Was waiting for this comment.
I very much like this new segment! I look forward to eventual, and occasional, new episodes! I don’t think the DeTomaso’s styling has aged well. In the illustration with it sitting next to the Rabbit, the Rabbit looks much better.
My buddy’s mom had a yellow and black on those things. At the time, I didn’t know the tie in to another car company, I just thought it was a ‘Pittsburgh Edition’ since yellow [gold] and black are the city colors.
The friend’s mom eventually traded it on a Shelby Charger with 2.2 and a stick, alloy low profile wheels and the stripes going down the body. We thought that car was awesome, It seemed that the shifter was a bit clunky, but it seemed to fast and firmly sprung.
My car at the time was a hand-me-down 1976 VW Dasher. What a rust bucket, but it was nicely balanced driving car.
This here is the Essence of Autopianism.
It’s waiting to find that 30-year-old brown diesel wagon when everyone else picks a white SUV “because it was available”.
It’s “slow-car fast”.
It’s choosing the base-model because it’s the only one available with a manual transmission.
So, so awesome. Love this place.
As long as we’re talking early-80s Mopars, how about the forgotten second-gen Challenger? (Mitsubishi for those too young to know)
They had a certain style, a kinda scaled down personal luxury coupe vibe that was cool. And crazy seat fabrics from what I recall.
And the Plymouth Sapporo twin, they were interesting looking cars, probably the best screwed-together products you could buy from a Chrysler Corp dealer at the time. Unfortunately, they all disappeared about as fast as the Omnirizons, road salt and poor parts support, I’d guess.
I had a Sapporo for less than a year. A great deal: $150 down, and $200 more if it lasted 6 months.* “ Looks like a foreign Mustang” someone said. I told him it was named after a beer just for fun. Not powerful, but lightweight and handled worlds better than my shitty 80s Subarus. Great (and great fun) in the snow. Kinda wish I had kept it, but it needed a bunch of suspension stuff-and that was getting pricey and hard to even find. Buddy who wanted the motor for a minivan(??) kept bugging me & finally got up to 5 or 600, so I let it go
*amicable split-up w/ my gf
I saw a Sapporo at the MoparNats last year and while I knew what it was from lore, I don’t think I had ever actually seen one in person. It was for sale, and I couldn’t even think of a reason I needed to own it.
I thought the new segment was “Miami news reporter reviews various Malaise era cars” but this is good too!
I had no idea this car existed and this is precisely the type of ridiculous content I come to this site for. Can we make this an entire series about all show no go vehicles? The possibilities are endless. Hell you could write several articles about anything Chevy slaps an RS badge on…
I’m in. I grew up in the “sport coupe” era, and they were ALL pretty much like that. I really miss their Walter Mitty flair.
My uncle had the Charger version. After that brief ownership, he started buying Celicas. The 1.7 was slower than my ’83 Subaru GL. Jesus.
I got around in my 1980 Mustang Turbo notchback in those days. For alot of young folks like myself, fuel economy was the name of the game. Always had a liking for the Charger 2.2, the Ford EXP, even Renault with their Fuego. Add the Fiero, too, into the mix. I do appreciate Iaccoca getting Carrol Shelby into the mix, and that gave us some hot little turbo motored cars such as the Shelby-ized Charger and Omni GLHS. It was trying to make good with the little that Chrysler had. And those Shelby cars do have a certain amount of respect that still holds to today.
Thank you for this! For years, there was a ton of chatter about how no, it actually had whatever from Maserati in it. I was always doubtful given Maserati’s financial situation and an imagined Italian obstinacy to taking something with Americans seriously.
The wheels (which I still love) were available on the regular LeBaron, right?
Back in those days the 024 was a nicely styled little scoot. It still looks good. Somehow the DeTomaso is wiped from my memory. I was a huge fan of the Rampage pickup.
If you’re going to do lame Italian-American partnerships, let’s not forget the Ford-Ghia hookup that managed to increase the ugliness of the Mustang II and Granada.
Is it delivery or DeTamaso?
I saw a cream TC the other day driving like any other car. The smaller grille gave it away from a LeBaron. Rad!
You say Tomaso, I say tomato…
Kidding. I never owned one of these, but I did own a 1982 Dodge Rampage based on the same platform, which, wait for it -I loved. Once crossed the country (Sacramento, CA to Ft. Walton Beach, FL) in 47 hours including gas stops and one motel sleep about halfway. That 2.2 mill purred the whole way. Only wish I’d had the 5-speed that wasn’t available until ‘83. It was no De Tomaso (thankfully), but it shared a heartbeat. One man’s trash…
I’ve mentioned this before, but I had a 1985 Dodge Daytona with the 2.2-liter four and a 5MT – mechanically identical (I think) to the DerpTomaso.
It was garbage. Not the glorious kind, either. The gutless-oil-leaker kind of garbage. Feh, and good riddance. All the cool stickers in the world would not have helped.
Is this more or less De Tomaso than the Innocenti Mini De Tomaso, which ALSO had 71 HP but was a Mini with a Bertone redesign.
I’d rather have a Innocenti DeTomaso. Those could go from 0-60 kg of rust in under 5 seconds!
Somehow I feel the urge to nominate the Pacer as desirable crap.
This is like a holy grail of potential Lemons cars. Especially with the VW engine, which you could probably do something with, or at least replace with a better VW engine.
Go cheap & old school: 8vABA. they easily give 130hp-and only add about 15lbs. Though, as I type that, I realize that’s with Bosch CIS-K injection.
Still, it might well put you in the IOE field…
Between this, the Imperial FS Edition, and the counterfeit Bruce Springsteen jingle he had Kenny Rogers record, it really seems like Lee Iacocca was the kind of friend who’d trick you into helping him move a sleeper sofa into a 3rd floor walkup
If you like that, have I got a nice Charger to sell you!
This is so cool, never knew about it at all.
Is this model how we then got the mid-’80s Dodge Charger/Plymouth Turismo?
I’ll admit it, I liked the looks of these back in the day.
However, my mom ended up buying a Pontiac Sunbird