It’s time for another installment of Glorious Garbage, where we highlight a car that is indisputably piping-hot garbage and yet, somehow, strangely appealing, largely thanks to healthy doses of nostalgia, irony, and, let’s be honest, more than a little self-debasement. We started the series off last time with what is arguably the slowest car ever to wear the DeTomaso name, and this week our Glorious bit of wheeled Garbage is actually somewhat similar, in that it’s a not-particularly sporty car dressed up as something very much more than it actually is. The difference here is that where the Dodge DeTomaso was a car that looked the part but was writing visual checks its butt couldn’t cash, this one is such a hilarious and unbelievable caricature that I don’t think there was ever any danger of it being taken seriously. My fellow Autopians, please introduce yourselves to the Plymouth Volaré Street Kit Car.
Huh, I just realized that so far, the Glorious Garbage series is 100% Mopar. This isn’t intentional. It’s only the second installment, so, please, Mopar fans, don’t take this as a slight.
The Plymouth Volaré Street Kit Car was, essentially, a regular-ass 1978 Plymouth Volaré dressed up in the automotive equivalent of a Halloween costume of Richard Petty’s famous #43 NASCAR racing car. This was a factory-selectable option, and for those of you who are skeptical, here, look at this dealer flyer for the package:
Look at all that crap they stuck onto that Volaré! Fake wheel flares, a tacked-on spoiler, front air dam that looks like it may be able to do a bit of snowplow duty if only the front engine/RWD Volaré wasn’t so useless in the snow, the silly louvered side-window stick-on cover, and, perhaps most hilariously, the fake windshield and rear window clips and retaining straps and those fake hood pins.
Oh man, are these things ridiculous. Look:
Those rear window “retaining straps” would do, of course, absolutely nothing other than to perhaps trap moisture and grit between the strap and the window, all part of Chrysler’s decades-long experiment to see if they can get glass to rust, and I bet the little tabs on the windshield were installed by a dealer tech eyeballing the location and using a hardware-store wood screw right into the sheet metal. The fake hood retaining pins are just, you know, chef’s kissable.
There was also a Dodge Aspen version you could get too, which seemed to replace the Petty-traditional blue livery with a bold, scarlet look:
So, let’s see exactly what you did get with the Street Kit Car Package:
Special wheels and tires, a bunch of decals, those silly fake retention straps and hood pins, “Tuff” steering wheel, all that stuff, and the only thing that could even remotely improve the driving would be that rear sway bar, maybe, and uh, maybe the heavy-duty suspension couldn’t hurt. The 360 V8 was just a standard option, and the three-speed TorqueFlite transmission was hardly sporty in any context outside of “sportcoat.” That detail is especially maddening, because there was a four-speed manual available that would have suited the car much better, but that transmission could only be had with the inline-six or smaller 318 V8 engine.
This thing was a getup, an absurd, funhouse-mirror version of Richard Petty’s purposeful racing cars, and it’s hard to see how anyone could have seen it any other way. It was the automotive equivalent of a poser, a tourist who buys all the new equipment to fit in at some specific context or subgroup, and as a result stands out like a sore and yet too-clean thumb.
Remember that old King of the Hill episode where a businessman from Boston comes to Texas, all enamored with the hype and stereotypes of a dipshit’s idea of Texas, and shows up in a brand-new fancy modern oil-baron-cowboy outfit/costume that embarrasses everyone around him? Here’s a clip to refresh your memory:
That’s what this car is, but for NASCAR.
What makes it so especially garbage-glorious is that the car this is all based on, the F-Body Volaré, is kinda crap just on its own. This was prime Malaise Era stuff, an all-new design to replace the Plymouth Valiant and Dart, but saddled with having to use as many parts as possible from the Mopar bins. The suspensions were soft, with transverse torsion bars up front and archaic leaf springs at the rear, and handling was, um, not great. I’m not saying this because I read it somewhere, I’m old enough that I’ve actually driven these wallowy barges, and I can say from direct experience that they, charitably, sucked.
Like “felt like you were sitting on the shoulders of your drunk, swaying uncle while doing 54 on the highway”-sucked. Steering feel was like shoving a 2×4 into a bucket full of well-soggified Cap’n Crunch in cottage cheese, and I feel like I’m still being charitable here.
The V8 made a respectable 175 hp, but these never felt fast; I think that TorqueFlight greedily consumed the majority of those horses before they could make it to the wheels.
One thing I do like about the Volaré, though: they were one of the few American cars to be early adopters of amber rear turn indicators:
Another interesting thing about the Volaré is the name; it’s one of the few American car models to have a name with an accent over a vowel (and that’s official – look at the badge here):
The names of the F-body cars were originally to be the Dodge Aspen and the Plymouth Vail, after the two famous resort towns. There was a push to name the Plymouth one Cygnate or Signet, but, as the story is told over on AllPar by one of the original members of the team, things didn’t go that way:
“After hearing our proposal, R.K. said he would rather not have a new car at all then have it be named Cygnet (little swan) or Signet (precious stone). George, Len, and I returned to George’s office. George, a new VP, was crushed because he thought the proposal would be “rubber stamped.”
The name Volaré was quickly suggested after the disastrous meeting, but then sat on for a bit so it would feel like more work was put into it. The word means “to fly” in Italian, but it’s also the infinitive form of the Latin verb “to fly,” though I always confused it with the Latin verb volvunt, from which the name for the Swedish carmaker Volvo derives. Anyway, it’s Italian, so that gave Chrysler’s marketing people all they needed to go nuts and find an Italian singer, Sergia Franchi, and get him to make a whole Volaré song:
Of course, he appeared in commercials, too:
All of this is about as un-NASCAR-ish as you can get, all the more reason why the Street Kit Car was so ridiculous. Most people seemed to think so, too, as only 245 Plymouths and 145 Aspens were sold with the package. And, to make everything even worse, Petty, racing for Chrysler, finished second in the 1976 and 1977 NASCAR Championships, disappointing for him, and then had a further disappointing season in 1978, prompting Petty to switch to Chevy for the last dozen races of the 1978 season.
As you can guess, after the switch, Chrysler was no longer interested in a Petty-hyping option package, so it was dropped. Also, calling it a “Kit Car” was confusing to most people, who thought of kit cars as fiberglass bodies on VW Beetle pans. It just didn’t make a lot of sense, and that didn’t help sales.
Now, this series is called Glorious Garbage, and so far I’ve mostly focused on the garbage part. But, I’ll explain why there’s some glory here, too.
As you can see by that video of a surviving Street Kit Car there, these things have a certain undeniable silly charm. Cars don’t always have to be so damn serious, right? What’s the matter with just having fun? If this car is built for anything, it’s built for having a good time, without any expectations or burdens of quality or some bullshit like “excellence.” It’s just goofy fun.
It’s a hot dog, laden with chili, washed down with too many beers and maybe a fucking popsicle afterwards, because it’s summer and you’re young and lovely and nothing important is going on and if you don’t look at anything for too long, this is a beautiful world to be in.
If you’re going on a roadtrip with a stranger and they pull up in one of these absurd machines, the one thing you damn well know is that you’re going to have a good time and have some stories to tell. You’ll get where you’re going, but you’ll show up happily disheveled and missing most of your luggage and maybe sporting a new scar or tattoo or both. Oh and you should probably get checked for STDs.
That, I think, qualifies for glory, in this context.
In order to really commit to the race car illusion, you have to add the matching transporter.
I guess you have a different definition of fake than most people. Those flares are real, as are the window clips and straps. Yes the hood pins are only decorative so they qualify as fake.
I am all for amber indicators, but why would you not put the indicators at the outermost position in the light cluster? Why further inboard? That makes no sense.
Second gen Ford Tempo did that too
This is a truly amazing follow-up to that De Tomaso for me personally. Being that my first “real” car was an automatic ’85 Duster Turismo, and the car that replaced it was a slant-six ’79 Duster Volaré, I was driving the pure-garbage versions of both of these, in the same order that you’ve presented them.
The crazy thing is just how bad that ’79 Duster really was. I’ve got a book called “Lemons, the World’s Worst Cars”, and the ’79 Duster is prominently featured in it. Going down the list of problems with the car, mine checked all of the boxes – peak malaise. And yet, it was still better than that miserable ’85. It never left me stranded (the ’85 did regularly), at least had the illusion of some power (no illusions in the ’85), and it could take a genuine beating – it remains the only car I’ve had the joy of being in while all four tires were off the ground.
Learning about the De Tomaso version of my first car was complete news to me – I had no idea that existed. Knowing it does, I still don’t care to ever have another one, glory version or not. This thing, however, I would love to have – it’s as goofy as the day is long. I’d get a big Petty-style cowboy hat and glasses to wear while driving it.
Amazingly, I’ve gotten to experience this version of glorious garbage in person several times. There’s a nearby small-town car show I used attend every fall where one of these always showed up looking factory fresh. I’m pretty sure it was a one-owner and the display was complete with sales literature and the window sticker. I salute the hero that not only purchased it, but kept in perfect condition and brought it out each year much to delight of so many kids and adults – real life Hot Wheels cars have that effect.
By the way, if you want to go three for three, the car I purchased after the Volaré was a ’78 Malibu station wagon. I’d love to find out there was a “Glorious” version of a 4th gen Malibu because mine was indeed Garbage.
Meet my grandson…
https://i.ytimg.com/vi/KA13ZzuGfFg/maxresdefault.jpg
Every time I see one of these, I kinda cringe a little. I think it was Mark who used the phrase “looks like it drove though an AutoZone.”
But in light of this Volare, I now wonder if in 35 years, they’ll be a so-bad-it’s-good thing. “NASCAR was gasoline-powered back then!”
Here’s my controversial take of the day: I really like the TRD Camry and if I needed a new daily right now this second, it would be by far my #1 choice.
Lower it, throw on some big tires and your set
I feel I have been reading you crazy people too long. For some deranged reason, I want one now. If I start looking longingly at rusty jeeps, I’m blaming David.
“…looks like it may be able to do a bit of snowplow duty if only the front engine/RWD Volaré wasn’t so useless in the snow, ” and bald, second-hand tires didn’t improve the driving experience on iced-over washboard roads.
Belated apologies to anyone in Milford, Commerce Twp, or New Hudson still waiting on the pizza you ordered in the winter of ’89-’90.
it was 78, chrysler and Ford got caught flat footed while Pontiac and even GM’s Camaro managed to get huge sales from tacked on faux go fast things. and stickers of course. The roadrunner of 78 was equally hideous. https://bringatrailer.com/2016/06/24/spectrum-stripes-360-swapped-1978-plymouth-volare-road-runner/
as was the King Cobra Mousetang https://www.onallcylinders.com/2021/08/29/the-1978-ford-mustang-king-cobra-a-nice-goodbye-hiss-from-the-pinto-based-mustang-ii/
I’ve actually seen one of these locally a year or two ago. It’s just so silly in person that you can’t not like it. This is probably my favorite of the “try and make our Malaise era junk seem sporty with stickers and screw on bits” cars but the Monza Mirage is a close second
Mine would be the Pontiac Astre “Lil Wide Track”. Taking Pontiac’s version of the Chevy Vega, slapping on front and rear spoilers, window louvers, alloy wheels, and a nice stripe package really gave it a 3/4 scale Trans Am vibe. Sure, it was still powered by a Vega Four, but it at least looked the part. One could even order it as a two door wagon!
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a1/Pontiac_Astre_Lil_Wide_Track.jpg
This looks like every other Charger I see on the road now. Soooo many people have been adding louvers and spoilers recently that I’m honestly surprised Dodge didn’t throw this options package on one of the final edition Chargers they rolled out.
It’s funny how rear window louvers went from being a more or less practical if badass thing back in the day (some shade for the massive, raked rear window on a hatchback) to being almost entirely cosmetic now.
And of course the spoiler thing comes and goes. Seems to be on the upswing again now.
I would rock this over anything modern any day. This thing is amazing. I have to find an old 70’s beater now.
Great find Torch, even if you hate it.
Sure it is garbage, but in a strange way I like it. It is a parody of itself.
Probably good idea to check for STPs, too.
Take your danged star.
Dude, all of the cars were posers then. Most cars went Brougham to compensate for the weak performance, but some went in another direction. This would be pretty cool with a Hurricane crate motor and a 6 speed manual.
This thing is fucking rad. Much better looking than the 2000s Monte Carlo Nascar sticker package.
That Monte ought to be a shoe-in for this Glorious Garbage column.
Every now and then, somewhere in the Mike Judge-iverse is deeply, sharply ahead of its time, and my gosh, they managed to lampoon Extremely Divorced Elon before he became Extremely Divorced.
(Granted, “the worst person you can imagine just moved here and sticks out like a sore thumb” has been a trope for a while, but I’m just saying: there is a famous example in the news lately and my gosh, some men will literally buy a stupid ill-fitting cowboy hat and tank an entire social media company instead of going to therapy.)
A friend had a “normal” Volare as a company car. I told him that while free has a lot to recommend it, if that car were mine, I’d never put oil in it.
On the other hand, “Chrysler’s decades-long experiment to see if they can get glass to rust,” made me laugh out loud.
You know…
Sometimes I feel like my comments here are just uneducated jokes that sometimes go a bit to far (They mostly are) amidst a crowd of enthusiasts that know what they’re talking about.
But just when I think all I have to contribute to the great Autopian readership is pure drivel, Torch will inevitably write an article filled with such wonderful, bonkers nonsense that it reminds me that I do belong here.
That these are my people. Whether I drive a Dodge Viper to work or a Chevy Prizm.
All our views of car culture are as different as snowflakes, models and makes.
There is a lifted Dodge Ram pickup I encounter almost every day on my commute home from work.
A big, ugly, lifted blue thing with silver flames painted on the side.
I used to hate it. But now I think it’s kinda a fun look. Like a Matchbox truck.
Your writers and your readers manage to change my opinions in a good way, every day.
Y’all are following your mission statement to a T and I for one appreciate the direction you continue to point the wheel and stomp on the go pedal toward.
The Autopian is the right name for all this beautiful madness.
This is just lovely to hear! Thank you so much.
Well said, ghostpedal
Yes, and Amen!
Actually one of these in my hometown, I remember seeing it. But we also has a NASCAR track, so maybe that makes sense.
Volare by Dean Martin is a good one too.
On the amber turn signals, I love how they split the color right in the middle between the logo. Did Mopar accidentally end up buying orange coloring and wondering how to get rid of it said, “I know, let’s use half of it on the rear signals!”
Looks great in red. From afar, of course.
Yeah… afar… like if the car is in California and you’re looking in its direction while in Cleveland.
I can’t get over that they spelled tough TUFF for the TUFF Steering Wheel.
I lost it at “decorative hood pins.” Incredible.
Car and Driver scooped you by 40 plus years – as a ten year old, I remember the article. They had similar thoughts on the performance, but said the guy will be back next year sporting headers and W-2 cylinder heads.
Yeah, it’s easy to make fun of things, but also a little myopic to criticize the cars that people were building at the time. Maybe respect the people who kept pushing so a Dodge Demon could come from the factory too hot to meet NHRA standards.
I want one.