Penthouse

Penthouse (pronounced pent-hous)

(1) An apartment or dwelling on the roof of a building, usually set back from the outer walls.

(2) Any specially designed apartment on an upper floor, especially the top floor, of a building.

(3) A structure on a roof for housing elevator machinery, a water tank etc.

(4) Any roof-like shelter or overhanging part.

(5) In real tennis, a corridor having a slanted roof and projecting from three walls of the court.

(6) As mechanical penthouse, a floor, usually directly under a flat-roof, used to house mechanical plant & equipment.

(7) A special-interest magazine, aimed at a mostly male audience and published in several editions by a variety of owners between 1965-2023.

1520–1530: Despite the appearance penthouse is not a portmanteau (pent + house) word.  Penthouse is an alteration (by folk etymology) of the Middle English pentis, pentiz & pendize (and other spellings), from the Old French apentiz & apentis (appendage, attached building), the construct being apent (past participle of apendre (to hang against)) + -iz (the French -is ) from the unattested Vulgar Latin –ātīcium (noun use of neuter of the unattested –ātīcius, the construct being the Latin -āt(us) (past participle suffix) + -īcius (the adjectival suffix)).  Old French picked up apentis from the Medieval Latin appendicium (from the Classical Latin appendo (to hang) & appendere (to hang from).  A less common alternative variant to describe a shed with a sloping roof projecting from a wall or the side of a building was pentice.  Penthouse is a noun & verb, penthousing is a verb and penthoused & penthouslike are adjective; the noun plural is penthouses.  The adjectives penthouseish & penthousesque are non-standard.

Penthouse magazine, December 1993.

First published in 1965, Penthouse magazine was one of many ventures (in many fields) which proved unwilling or unable to adapt to the changes wrought by the internet and the atomization of the delivery of content; its last print edition (after a few stuttering years) appeared in 2023 although there must remain some perception of value in the name because of the decades-long prominence of the title and it's not impossible there will be a revival, even if it's unlikely to re-appear in the glossy magazine format of old.  In Australia, for students of the print industry the comparison between the “men’s magazines” Penthouse and Playboy (first published in 1953, on-line since 2020 and a print “annual edition” appeared in 2025) was something like that between the “women’s magazines” Cosmopolitan (since 1965 in its current niche) and Cleo (1972-2016) in that the two pairings were superficially similar but different in emphasis.  Not too much should be made of that because although identifiably there were “Cosmo women” & “Cleo women” (presumably with some overlap at the margins), between Penthouse and Playboy there were probably more similarities than variations.  Structuralists explained the difference between the two genres: “men’s magazines” were bought by men so they could look at pictures of women not wearing clothes while “women’s magazines” were bought by women so they could look at pictures of women wearing clothes.

View from the penthouse in which Lindsay Lohan lived in 2014, W Residences, Manhattan, New York City.

When the lovely Ms Schiffer appeared on the cover of the December 1993 edition of Penthouse, the editors may not have been aware of the beast which was coming to consume them but it was in April 1993 CERN (in 1953 the Conseil Européen pour la Recherche Nucléaire (European Council for Nuclear Research) but the following year re-named Organisation européenne pour la recherche nucléaire (European Organization for Nuclear Research) with the acronym retained because it was both more mnemonic and pronounceable than OERN) released into the public domain details of technology which would allow the free development of applications using the www (world wide web) which ran atop the internet, making indexed content more easily accessible and distributable.  When in April 1993 the NCSA (National Center for Supercomputing Applications) released version 1.0 of its Mosaic web browser, it triggered a social and industrial revolution which (variously on TikTok, X (formerly known as Twitter), FoxNews and such) continues to unfold.  Mosaic wasn’t the first web browser but it was the first to gain a critical mass and the applications which superseded it claimed many victims including Penthouse magazine.

Iso, the Grifo and the Penthouse

1965 Iso Grifo Bizzarini A3/C, Le Mans, 1965.

One of the most admired of the trans-Atlantic hybrids of the post-war years (1945-1973) which combined elegant coachwork, (hopefully) high standards of craftsmanship and the effortless, low-cost power of large-displacement American V8 engines, the Iso Grifo was produced between 1965-1974 by the Italian manufacturer Iso Autoveicoli.  Styled by Bertone’s Giorgetto Giugiaro (b 1938) with engineering handled by the gifted Giotto Bizzarrini (1926-2023), the Grifo initially used a 327 cubic inch (5.3 litre) version of the small-block Chevrolet V8, coupled with the equally ubiquitous Borg-Warner (four & five speed) manual gearbox or robust General Motors (GM) Turbo-Hydramatic automatics.  Later, after some had been built with the big-block Chevrolet V8, GM began to insist on being paid up-front for hardware so Iso negotiated with the more accommodating Ford Motor Company (FoMoCo) and switched to 351 cubic inch (5.8 litre) versions of their 335 (Cleveland) engine.

1955 Iso Isetta.

Iso was already familiar with the mechanical configuration, production of their Rivolta coupe, equipped also with the Chevrolet 327, having begun in 1962.  The Rivolta, let alone the Grifo was quite a change of direction for Iso which until then had produced a variety of appliances, scooters & moto-cycles, it’s most famous product the Isetta, one of the generation of “bubble cars” which played such a part in putting Europeans back on (three or four) wheels during the re-construction of the early post-war years.  Surprisingly, despite the prominence of the Isetta name and the Italian association, barely a thousand were actually manufactured by Iso, the overwhelming majority produced in many countries by BMW and others to which a license was granted.  The bubble cars were a product of the economic circumstances of post-war Europe and the ones produced in England even used the single rear wheel which had been abandoned by Iso because of the inherent instability; UK taxation laws made three-wheelers significantly cheaper and only a motor-cycle license was required to drive one.  Powered by tiny two and four-stroke engines, their popularity waned as “real” cars such as the Fiat 500 (1955-1975) and later the BMC (British Motor Corporation) Mini (1959-2000) emerged; although costing little more than the bubble cars, they offered more space, performance and practicality.  By the early 1960s, the bubble cars were almost extinct but, as a tiny specialized niche, they never completely vanished and the Isetta is enjoying a twenty-first century revival as model urban transportation, including the option of (Greta Thunberg (b 2003) approved) electric propulsion.  Once dismissed as dated and even absurd, their bug-eyed look is now thought to have "retro-charm".

1968 Iso Rivolta.

The Rivolta was thus quite a jump up-market and, while the engine wasn't the bespoke thoroughbred found in a Ferrari or Aston-Martin, the rest of the specification justified the high price.  Unlike some of the British interpretations using American V8s, Iso insisted on modernity, the platform probably the best of the era with a body welded to a pressed-steel chassis, a combination which proved both light and stiff.  Just as importantly, given the high rate of corporate failure among those attracted to this potentially lucrative market, it was cost-effective to manufacture, reliable and easy to service.  Probably the feature which let it rank with the most accomplished of the era was the sophisticated de Dion rear suspension which, combined with four wheel disc brakes, lent it a rare competence (surprising some Maserati and Ferrari drivers, their cars with rear suspension designs dating from the horse & buggy era).  The de Dion design was not an independent arrangement but certainly behaved as if it was and, despite what Mercedes-Benz claimed of their beloved swing-axles, was superior to many of the independent setups on offer.  A noted benefit of the de Dion system is it ensures the rear wheels remain always parallel, quite an important feature in an axle which has to transmit to the road the high torque output of a big V8, a lesson Swiss constructor Peter Monteverdi (1934–1998) applied later in the decade when he went into production using even bigger engines.  Iso, with a solid base in accounting and production-line economics, ran an efficient and profitable operation not beset by the recurrent financial crises which afflicted so many and the elegant Rivolta was a success, remaining available until 1970.  Some eight hundred were sold.

1967 Iso Grifo Series One.

The Rivolta’s platform proved adaptable.  In 1965, Iso released the Grifo coupé which was more overtly oriented to outright performance and strictly a two-seater.  With lovely lines and a modified version of the Rivolta’s fine chassis, the Grifo was another product of the fertile imaginations of Giugiaro & Bizzarrini but, in something not untypical in Italian industry of the time, the relationship between the latter and Iso’s founder Renzo Rivolta (1908–1966) soon became strained and was sundered.  Bizzarrini would go on to do remarkable things and Iso’s engineers assumed complete control of the Grifo after the first few dozen had been completed.  Bizzarrini had pursued a twin-stream development, a competition version called the A3/C with a lower, lightweight aluminum body as well as the road-going A3/L and when he decamped, he took with him the A3/C, to be released also under his name while Iso devoted its attentions to the A3/L, again using engine-transmission combinations borrowed from the Chevrolet Corvette.

1964 Iso Grifo A3/L Spider prototype by Bertone.

The Grifo weighed a relatively svelte 1430 kg (3153 lbs) in what must have been a reasonably slippery shape because the reports at the time confirmed some 240 km/h (150 mph) was easily attained, an increase on that managed by the C2 Corvette (1962-1967 and which turned out to be not aerodynamically efficient as it looked) and, when configured with the taller gearing the factory offered, the factory claimed 260 km/h (162 mph), was possible.  A test in the UK in 1966 almost matched that with a verified 161 mph (259 km/h) recorded and two years later, the US publication Car & Driver 1968 tested a 327 Grifo but didn't to a top-speed run, instead estimating 157 mph (253 km/h) should be possible given enough road.  There were surprisingly few variations, fewer than two-dozen made with a targa-style removable roof panel and a single, achingly lovely roadster was displayed on Bertone's stand at the 1964 Geneva Motor Show; it remained a one-off although a couple of coupés privately have been converted.  What made the Bertone prototype special however was it was a companion to the original A3/L prototype coupé with which it shared a number of distinctive features including (1) a side exhaust rakishly snaking through the passenger side of the cowl and under the rocker panel trim with its an almost matte finish, (2) frontal styling with the then fashionable “twin-nostril” fascia and (3) angled vents in the rear fenders.  Although visually similar to the series production Grifos, almost every line on the pair of A3/L prototypes was in some subtle way different.

The one-off Iso Grifo Spider on Bertone's stand, 1964 Geneva Salon, 1964 (left) and as discovered in Rudi Klein's famous shed, Los Angeles, 2024 (right). 

Although well-known in the collector community for its large stocks of rusty and wrecked Porsches, Mercedes-Benz and other notable vehicles from the post-war years, the Californian “junkyard” belonging to Rudi Klein (1936-2001) attracted world-wide interest when details were published of the gems which had for decades been secreted in the site's large and secure shed.  Mr Klein was a German butcher who in the late 1950s emigrated to the US to work at his trade but quickly discovered a more enjoyable and lucrative living could be had dealing in damaged or wrecked European cars, sometimes selling the whole vehicles and sometimes the parts (“parting out” in junkyard parlance).  His Porsche Foreign Auto business had operated for some time before he received a C&D (cease & desist) letter from the German manufacturer’s US attorneys, the result being the name change in 1967 to Porche (sic) Foreign Auto.  Unlike many collectors, Mr Klein amassed his collection unobtrusively and, astonishingly to many, apparently with little interest in turning a profit on the rarest, despite some of them coming to be worth millions.  After Mr Klein died in 2001, his two sons preserved the collection untouched until, in October 2024,the auction house Sotheby’s began a series of rolling sales, one to go under the hammer the one-off Grifo spider.  At some point there was an accident which damaged the nose so a standard Grifo facia was installed and in this form Mr Klein ran it for a while as a road car before parking it in the shed among its illustrious companions.  Remarkably original except for the nose, it sold for US$1,875,000 and the expectation is it will be fully restored (including a fabricated replica of the original nose) before appearing on the show circuit.  In the decades to come, it will likely spend its time in collections with the occasional outings to auction houses.

1970 Iso Grifo Targa (left) Series Two and 1971 Iso Grifo Can-Am (454) Targa.  Only four Series II Can-Ams were built with the targa roof.

The bodywork was revised in 1970, subsequent cars listed as Series Two models.  The revisions included detail changes to the interior, improvements to the increasingly popular air-conditioning system and some alterations to the body structure, the hydraulics and electrical system, some necessitated by new regulatory requirements in Europe but required mostly in an attempt to remain compliant with the more onerous US legislation.  The most obvious change was to the nose, the headlamps now partially concealed by flaps which raised automatically when the lights were activated.  Presumably the smoother nose delivered improved aerodynamics but the factory made no specific claims, either about performance or the drag co-efficient (CD) number.

1972 Iso Lele & 1972 Iso Fidia.

In 1972, an unexpected change in the power-train was announced.  After almost a decade exclusively using Chevrolet engines, Iso issued a press release confirming that henceforth, the Series Two Grifo would be powered by Ford’s Boss 351 cubic inch (5.8 litre) 335 series (Cleveland) V8.  In the state of tune (close to that fellow Italian specialist De Tomaso were using in their mid-engined Pantera) chosen, the Ford engine was similar in size, weight to the small-block Chevrolet and delivered similar power and torque characteristics so the driving experience differed little although there were 22 high-performance Leles using a tuned 351, all with a ZF five-speed manual gearbox.  The other improvement in performance was presumably Iso’s balance sheet.  The switch had been made because internal policy changes at GM meant they were now insisting on being paid up-front for their product whereas Ford was still prepared to mail an invoice with a payment term.  The change extended to the other models in the range, the Lele coupé and Fidia saloon and while the Chevrolet/Ford split in the Lele was 125/157, the circumstances of the time meant that of the 192 Fidias made, only 35 were fitted with the 351.

1969 Iso Grifo 7 Litre (427).

One of the trends which made machines of the 1960s so memorable was a tendency never to do in moderation what could be done in excess.  In 1968, Iso announced the Grifo 7 Litre, built following the example of the US manufacturers who had with little more than a pencil and the back of an envelope worked out the economics of simple seven litre engines were more compelling than adding expensive components like overhead camshafts and fuel-injection to five litre engines; in the US, gas (petrol) was then relatively cheap and and assumed by most to be limitless.  Gas wasn’t as cheap in Italy or the rest of Europe but Iso’s target market for the Grifo was those who either could afford the running costs or (increasingly) paid their bills with OPM (other people’s money) so in those circles fuel consumption wasn’t something often considered or much discussed.  The new version used a 427 cubic inch (7.0 litre) version of the big-block Chevrolet V8, bigger and heavier than the 327 so the driving characteristics of the nose-heavy machine were changed but contemporary reports praised the competence of the chassis, the de Dion rear-end notably superior in behavior compared with the Corvette’s independent rear suspension although some did note it took skill (which meant often using some restraint) effectively to use the prodigious power.  Tellingly, the most receptive market for the Grifos, small and big-block, was the  FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990) with its network of highways without the tiresome speed limits elsewhere imposed and (even in Italy), often enforced.  The Autobahn really was the Grifo's native environment.

1971 Iso Grifo Can Am (454).

Faster it certainly was although the factory’s claim of a top speed of 186 mph (a convenient 300 km/h) did seem optimistic to anyone with a slide-rule and there appears not to be any record of anyone verifying the number although one published test did claim to have seen well over 255 km/h (150 mph) with the Grifo still "strongly accelerating" before “running out of road”.  It had by then become a genuine problem.  Gone were the happy times when testers still did their work on public roads; increased traffic volumes by the late 1960s meant the often deserted stretches of highway (in 1956 an English journalist had taken a Mercedes-Benz 300SLR Coupé to 183 mph (294 km/h) on the autobahn) were now rare but whatever the terminal velocity, nobody seemed to suggest the 7 litre Grifo lacked power.  In 1970, after Iso’s stock of the by-then out-of-production triple carburetor 427 were exhausted, the big-block car was re-named Can-Am and equipped instead with a 454 cubic inch (7.5 litre) version, the name an allusion to the unlimited displacement Group 7 sports car racing series run in North America in which the big-block Chevrolets were long the dominant engine.

Despite the increased displacement, power actually dropped a little because the 454 was detuned a little to meet the then still modest anti-emission regulations.  Officially, the 454 was rated at 395 HP (gross horsepower) but the numbers in that era were often at best indicative: The Boss 429 Mustang was said to produce 375 HP whereas the 500 cubic inch (8.2 litre) V8 in the FWD! (front-wheel-drive) Cadillac Eldorado was rated at 400; a comparison of their performance belies the numbers and the difference is not all accounted for by the Eldorado's weight and power-sapping accessories.  As early as the the mid-1960s Detroit had begun understating the output of many of their high-performance engines and as politicians and insurance companies (for their own reasons) became interested, the trend continued.    

1971 Iso Grifo Can Am (454).

Unlike the 427 which breathed through three two barrel carburetors, the 454 was equipped with less intricate induction, a single four barrel and while with output (officially) dropping from 435 to 395 HP, performance was s little blunted although it's probable few owners often went fast enough to tell the difference.  What didn’t change between the 7 Litre and the Can Am was its most distinctive feature, the modification to the hood (bonnet) made to ensure the additional height of the 427's induction system could be accommodated.  The raised central section, the factory dubbed "the penthouse".

Penthouse on 1969 Iso Grifo 7 Litre (427).

Not everyone admired the stark simplicity, supposing, not unreasonably, Giugiaro might have done something more in sympathy with its surroundings.  Critics more stern would have preferred a curvaceous scoop, blister or bulge and thought the penthouse amateurish, an angular discordance bolted unhappily atop Giugiaro’s flowing lines  but for those brought up in the tradition of brutalist functionalism, it seemed an admirable tribute to what lay beneath.  The days of the big-block Grifo were however numbered.  In 1972, with Chevrolet no longer willing to extent credit and Ford’s big-block (429 & 460) engines re-tuned as low-emission (for the time) units suitable for pickup trucks and luxury cars, the Can-Am was retired.  So the small-block 351 Grifo became the sole model in the range but it too fell victim to changing times, production lasting not long beyond the first oil shock (triggered by the OAPEC (Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries) on 17 October 1973 imposing an embargo on crude oil exports to certain countries) which made gas suddenly not only much more expensive but sometimes also scarce and the whole ecosystem of the thirsty trans-Atlantic hybrids became threatened; in little more than a year, Iso was one of the many dinosaurs driven extinct.  Decades later, the survivors of the 414 sold are highly desirable; fine examples of the small-block Grifos attract over US$500,000, the few dozen penthouse have sold for close to a million and the rare early A3/Cs for even more.

From the lost, tactile days of buttons and toggle switches: 1966 Iso Grifo, one of 31 built in RHD (right hand drive).

Not fans of brutalist functionalism were the Lancia-loving types at Road & Track (R&T) magazine in the US.  Late in 1974, R&T published their 1975 buyer’s guide for imported and domestically-built smaller cars (R&T neither approving of nor understanding why anyone would wish to buy a big American car) and surprisingly, there were reviews of the Grifo, Lele and Fidia although the last of these sold in the US some two years earlier had been titled as 1973 models, the company having never sought to certification to continue sales although, given nothing had been done to modify them to meet the new safety regulations, that would likely have been pointless unless the strategy was to seek a "low volume" exemption, something improbable by 1975.

A tale of two penthouses: Paradoxically, as installed in the Grifo the induction system of the big-block Chevrolet V8 sat a little lower than that of the small-block Ford (a not unusual anomaly in the small-block vs big-block world) so the Ford-engined Grifos (right) used a taller penthouse than those fitted with the Chevrolet unit.     

The distributors had however indicated to the press all three would return to the US market in 1975, supplying publicity photographs which included a Series II "penthouse" Grifo.  A further complication was that during 1974, Ford had discontinued in the US production of the high-performance 351 (the "Cleveland" 335 series which was exiled to Australia) V8 so it wasn't clear what power-train would have been used.  Others had the same problem, De Tomaso (which withdrew from the US market in 1974) switching to use tuned versions of the Australian-built 351s but for Iso, the whole issue became irrelevant as the factory was closed late in 1974.  R&T's last thoughts on the penthouse appeared in the buyer's guide: "However, the clean lines of the original Grifo have been spoiled by that terrible looking outgrowth on the hood used for air cleaner clearance.  For US$28,500 (around US$155,000 in 2025 US$ although direct translation of value is difficult to calculate because of the influence of exchange rates and other variables), a better solution to this problem should have been found."

Tiger

Tiger (pronounced tahy-ger)

(1) A large, carnivorous, tawny-colored and black-striped feline, Panthera tigris, of Asia, ranging in several subspecies from India and the Malay Peninsula to Siberia.

(2) In non-technical use, the cougar, jaguar, thylacine, or other animal resembling the tiger (in wide use in southern Africa of leopards).

(3) A person of some fierceness, noted for courage or a ferocious, bloodthirsty and audacious person.

(4) In heraldry, a representation of a large mythological cat, used on a coat of arms, often with the spelling tyger or tygre (to distinguish the mythological beast from the natural tiger (also blazoned Bengal tiger), also used in heraldry).

(5) A pneumatic box or pan used in refining sugar.

(6) Any of several strong, voracious fishes, as a sand shark.

(7) Any of numerous animals with stripes similar to a tiger's.

(8) A servant in livery who rides with his master or mistress, especially a page or groom (archaic).

(9) In entomology & historic aviation, a clipping of tiger moth (in the family Arctiidae), tiger beetle or tiger butterfly (in tribe Danaini, especially subtribe Danaina).

(10) Any of the three Australian species of black-and-yellow striped dragonflies of the genus Ictinogomphus.

(11) In US, slang, someone noted for their athleticism or endurance during sexual intercourse.

(12) In southern African slang, a ten-rand note.

(13) As TIGR (pronounced as for “tiger”), the abbreviation for Treasury Investment Growth Receipts: a bond denominated in dollars and linked to US treasury bonds, the yield on which is taxed in the UK as income when it is cashed or redeemed.

Pre 1000: From the Middle English tygre & tigre, from the Old English tīgras (plural) and the Anglo-Norman tigre (plural), from the Latin tīgris, from the Ancient Greek τίγρις (tígris), from an Iranian source akin to the Old Persian tigra- (sharp, pointed) and related to the Avestan tighri & tigri (arrow) and tiγra (pointed), the reference being to the big cats “springing” on to their prey but the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) notes no application of either word (or any derivative) to the tiger is known in Zend.  It was used of “tiger-like” people since the early sixteenth century and that could be complementary or pejorative although the female form (tigress) seems only to have been used in zoology since the 1610s and was never applied to women.  The tiger's-eye (yellowish-brown quartz) was first documented in 1886.  The word “liger”, like the creature it described, was a forced mating of lion and tiger.  As a modifier, tiger is widely used including the forms: American tiger, Amur tiger, Asian Tiger, Mexican tiger, Siberian tiger, tiger barb, tiger beetle, tiger bench, tiger-lily, tiger lily, tiger's eye, tiger shark & tiger's milk.  A female tiger is a tigeress.  The alternative spellings tigre & tyger are both obsolete.  Tiger & tigerishness are nouns, tigerly, tigerish & tigerlike are adjectives and tigerishly is an adverb; the noun plural is tigers.

Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) atop tiger in Kult Magazine (Italy), January 2012, photograph by Vijat Mohindra (b 1985), makeup by Joyce Bonelli (b 1981).

In idiomatic use, a country said to have a “tiger economy” (rapid and sustained economic growth), especially if disproportionate to population or other conventional measures.  “Tiger parent” (and especially “tiger mother”) refers to a strict parenting style demanding academic excellence and obedience from children; it’s associated especially with East Asian societies.  The “tiger cheer” dates from 1845 and originated in Princeton University, based on the institution’s mascot and involved the cheerleaders calling out "Tiger" at the end of a cheer accompanied by a jump or outstretched arms.  Beyond Princeton, a “tiger cheer” is any “shriek or howl at the end of a cheer”.  The phrase "paper tiger" was apparently first used by comrade Chairman Mao Zedong (1893–1976; chairman of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) 1949-1976) when discussing his thoughts about the imperialist powers.  A calque of the Chinese 紙老虎／纸老虎 (zhǐlǎohǔ), it referred to an ostensibly fierce or powerful person, country or organisation without the ability to back up their words; imposing but ineffectual.  Phrases in the same vein include "sheep in wolf's clothing" and "a bark worse than their bite".  To be said to “have a tiger by the tail” suggests one has found one’s self in a situation (1) that has turned out to be much more difficult to control than one had expected and (2) difficult to extricate one’s self from, the idea being that while holding the tiger’s tail, things are not good but if one lets go, things will likely become much worse.

Lana Del Rey with (edited-in) tigers, Born to Die, 2012.

Released in 2012, Born to Die was the title track of Lana Del Rey’s (stage name of Elizabeth Woolridge Grant, b 1985) second studio album.  The music video, recorded at the Palace of Fontainebleau (a former royal château of the French court), was directed by Yoann Lemoine (b 1983) who placed the singer between two tigers.  That effect was however a trick of the editing, the big cats filmed separately, which seems a sensible precaution.  Lying some 55 km (34 miles) south-east of central Paris, the Château de Fontainebleau is among the largest of the French royal châteaux and was for centuries both an occasional residence and hunting lodge for monarchs, the name from Fontaine Belle-Eau (spring of beautiful water), a natural fresh water spring located in the English garden not far from the château.  The interior of the palace is in some places referred to as “Rococo” but while some rooms were in the eighteenth century re-decorated with distinct Rococo touches, the distinctive style dates from the late French Renaissance and such was the thematic consistency it created what come to be known throughout Europe as “the School of Fontainebleau” which historians of architecture list as running from the mid sixteenth century to the early seventeenth, the motifs influencing more than one strain of Mannerism.  For students, the place is rich source of examples of movements from the Renaissance, through early and high French Baroque to the First Empire.  It was designated a national museum in 1927 and in 1981 was listed by UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Men in frock coats:  The “Big Four” at the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920), outside the Foreign Ministry headquarters, Quai d'Orsay, Paris.

Left to right: David Lloyd George (1863–1945; UK prime-minister 1916-1922), Vittorio Orlando (1860–1952; Italian prime minister 1917-1919), Georges Clemenceau (1841–1929; French prime minister 1906-1909 & 1917-1920) and Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924; US president 1913-1921).

Georges Clemenceau (1841–1929; Prime Minister of France 1906-1909 & 1917-1920) was a physician who turned to politics via journalism, a not unfamiliar trajectory for many; at a time of national crisis, he undertook his second term as premier, providing the country’s politics with the stiffness needed to endure what was by then World War I (1914-1918); he was nick-named le tigre (the tiger) in honor of his ferociously combative political demeanour.  In February 1919, while travelling from his apartment a meeting associated with the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920), he was shot several times, his assailant an anarchist carpenter & joiner, Émile Cottin (1896-1937) and two decades on, another leader would learn carpenters can aspire to be assassins.  Le tigre was lucky, the bullets missing his vital organs although one which passed through the ribcage ending up lodged close to his heart; too close to that vital organ to risk surgery, there it remained until his death (from unrelated causes) ten years later.  Cottin’s death sentence was later commuted to a ten year sentence and he would die in battle, serving with the anarchist Durruti Column during the early days of the Spanish Civil War.  The Tiger’s response to his survival was to observe: “We have just won the most terrible war in history, yet here is a Frenchman who misses his target six out of seven times at point-blank range.  Of course this fellow must be punished for the careless use of a dangerous weapon and for poor marksmanship. I suggest that he be locked up for eight years, with intensive training in a shooting gallery.”  In the circumstances, deploring the state of French marksmanship displayed a certain sangfroid.

The Sunbeam Tigers

Sunbeam Tiger, LSR run, Southport Beach, March 1926.

There have been three Sunbeam Tigers, the first illustrious, the second fondly remembered and the last so anti-climatic it’s all but forgotten.  The first was a dedicated racing car, built between 1923-1925 and, those being times when there was less specialization, it was used both in circuit racing and, most famously, in setting the world Land Speed Record (LSR).  Although aerodynamic by the standards of the time (the techniques of streamlining learned in World War I (1914-1918) military aviation applied), there was little innovation in the platform except for the engine, the nature of which ensured the Tiger’s place in history.  For grand prix events conducted for cars with a maximum displacement of 2.0 litres (122 cubic inches), Sunbeam had earlier built a two litre straight-six, the limitations imposed by the relatively small size being offset by the use of the then still novel double overhead camshafts (DOHC) which allowed both more efficient combustion chambers and much higher engine speeds, thereby increasing power.  It was a robust, reliable power-plant and when contemplating an attempt on the LSR, instead of developing anything new or using the then popular expedient of installing a big & powerful but heavy and low-revving aero engine, the engineers paired two of the blocks and heads on a single crankcase, creating a 75° 3,976 cm³ (243 cubic inch) V12.  When supercharged, power outputs as high as 312 hp (233 kW) were registered.

Sunbeam Tiger in 1990.

Deteriorating weather conditions meant there wasn’t time even to paint the bodywork before the Tiger was rushed to the banked circuit at Brooklands for testing in September 1925 where performance exceeded expectations.  Over the winter, further refinements were made including a coat of most un-British bright red paint and it was in this color (and thus nick-named “Ladybird”) it was in March 1926 taken to the flat, hard sands of Southport Beach where duly it raised the LSR mark to 152.33 mph (245.15 km/h).  That was broken within a year but the Tiger still holds the record as the smallest displacement ICE (internal combustion engine) ever to hold the LSR and a century on, it’s a distinction likely to be retained forever.  After the run on the beach, it returned to the circuits.  A sister car was built and named Tigress; fitted with one of the big Napier Lion W12 aero engines, it still competes in historic competition but the Tiger is now a museum piece although, after 65 years, it did have a final fling when in 1990 it made one last run and this time set a mark of 159 mph (256 km/h).

Sunbeam Alpine (1959-1968) with the original tail fins: 1961 (left) and 1963 (right).  When in late 1958 the design was approved by the Rootes board, tail fins were thought still fashionable but the moment soon passed and with the release of the Series IV in 1964, they were pruned.

Although successful in competition and the manufacturer of some much admired road cars, financial stability for Sunbeam was marginal for most of the 1920s and the Great Depression of the early 1930s proved its nemesis, the bankrupt company in 1934 purchased by the Rootes Group which was attracted by Sunbeam’s production facilities and their well-regarded line of HD (heavy duty) chassis for bus & truck operators.  Rootes over the years used the Sunbeam name in a desultory way, the vehicles little more than “badge engineered” versions of their Hillman, Singer, Humber & Talbot lines but one aberration was the Sunbeam Alpine, a small sports car (1959-1968).  Rootes had used the Alpine name before, adopted to take advantage of the success enjoyed in the 1953 Alpine Rally but the new roadster was very different.  Although the platform was taken (unpromisingly) from a small van (noted for its robustness and reliability but little else) with the rest of the structure a mash up of components from the Rootes parts bin, as a package it worked very well and the body was modern and attractive, owing more to small Italian sports cars than the often rather agricultural British competition from MG and Triumph.  The rakish fins drew the eye (not always uncritically) but they were very much of their time, taller even than those on the Daimler SP250 released the same year.  The Alpine was also pleasingly civilized with a heater which actually worked, a soft-top which didn’t leak (at least not as often or to the same extent as some others), external door handles and wind-up windows, none of those attributes guaranteed to exist on most of the local competition.  It was also commendably quiet, conversations possible and the radio able to be listened to even at cruising speed, then something then novel in little British roadsters.

1966 Sunbeam Tiger Mark IA.

With an engine capacity initially of 1.5 litres (91 cubic inch), the Alpine was never fast although that was hardly the point and the advertising included some campaigns aimed at what was then known as the “ladies market”; that market still exists but the industry now dare not speak its name.  Product development included larger engines would improve things but the performance deficit was better addressed when, in 1964, a version of the Alpine called the Tiger appeared, fitted with Ford’s recently released 260 cubic inch (4.2 litre) “thinwall” V8 (the so-called “Windsor” in honor the foundry in Ontario where the things were cast and assembled), about to become well known from its use in both the Ford Mustang and Carroll Shelby's (1923–2012) Cobra, the latter based on a much-modified AC Ace.  The Windsor was called a “thinwall” because genuinely it was small and light (by the standards of contemporary iron-block V8s) but even so it only just fitted (once come frankly brutish modifications to the engine bay were effected with hammers) and so tight was the fit a small hatch was installed in the firewall (under the dashboard) so a hand could reach in to change one otherwise inaccessible spark plug.  That notwithstanding, the package worked and all those who wrote test reports seemed to enjoy the Tiger, noting the effortless performance, fine brakes (lifted unchanged from the Alpine!) and (within limits) predictable handling, all in something conveniently sized.  However, even in those more tolerant times, more than one journalist observed that although the Ford V8 used was in the mildest state of tune Ford offered (the ones Shelby put in the Cobra producing over 100-odd HP (75 kW) more), it was clear the classis was close to the limit of what could be (even in the more forgiving 1960s) deemed sensible for road use.

Pleasingly, in the mid 1960s, there was in the US quite an appetite for cars not wholly sensible for street use and late in 1966, a revised version was released, this time with a 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) Windsor V8 and although there had been some attention to the underpinnings, it was now obvious that while still in the placid state Ford used in station wagons and such, the 289's increased output exceeded the capability of the chassis.  For the journalists of course, that was highly entertaining and some were prepared to forgive, one cautioning only that the Tiger:

“…doesn’t take kindly to being flung around.  It’s a car with dignity as asks to be driven that way.  That doesn’t mean slowly, necessarily, but that there’s sufficient power on tap to embarrass the incautious.  But if you treat it right, respecting it for what it is, the Tiger can offer driving pleasure of a very high order.”

In the era, there were other over-powered machines which could behave worse and those able to read between the lines would know what they were getting but there may have been some who were surprised and tellingly, the Tigers were never advertised to the “ladies market” although one was in 1965 presented as the traditional "pink prize" to Playboy’s PotY (Playmate of the Year).  Presumably she enjoyed it and, now painted "resale" red, the car still exists.

Jo Collins (b 1945), 1965 PotY with her 1965 Sunbeam Tiger Mark I.  All Tigers received the pruned fins (introduced on the Series IV Alpines), the once raked elliptical taillights assuming a vertical aspect.

The US was a receptive market for the little hot rod and one featured in the Get Smart TV series, although it’s said for technical reasons (the V8 version not having space in the engine compartment for some of the props), a re-badged Alpine was used for some scenes (the same swap effected for the 2008 feature film adaptation), a V8 exhaust burble dubbed where appropriate, a trick not uncommon in film-making.  At the corporate level of M&A (mergers & acquisitions), changes were however were coming which would doom the Tiger although it was an unintended victim.  Seeking a greater presence in Europe as well as a ranger of smaller vehicles to offer in the US, Chrysler had first taken a stake in the Rootes Group in 1964 and in 1967 it assumed full control.  Chrysler was most interested in the mainstream sedans but although the Tiger was a low-volume line, it was profitable and the corporation’s original intention had been to continue production but with Chrysler’s 273 cubic inch (4.4 litre) LA V8 substituted.  Unfortunately, while 4.7 Ford litres filled it to the brim, 4.4 Chrysler litres overflowed; the Windsor truly was compact.  Allowing it to remain in production until the stock of already purchased Ford engines had been exhausted, Chrysler instead changed the advertising from emphasizing the “…mighty Ford V8 power plant” to the vaguely ambiguous “…an American V-8 power train”.  Still a popular car in the collector community, so easily modified are the V8s that few survive in their original form and many have been fitted with larger Windsors, the 289 and 302 (4.9 litre) the most popular and some have persuaded even the tall-deck 351 (5.8) to fit though not without modifications.

Sunbeam Tigers: 1965 model with “Powered by Ford 260” badge (left), 1967 model with “Sunbeam V8” badge (centre) and 1965 French market model with “Alpine 260” badge (right).

It wasn’t unknown for the major US manufacturers to use components from competitors, something which happened usually either because of a technology deficit or to do with licencing.  However, they much preferred it if what was used was hidden from view (like a transmission) so Chrysler’s reticence about advertising what had become one of their cars being fitted with Ford V8 was understandable.  Not only was the advertising material swiftly changed but so were the badges: “Powered by Ford 260” giving way to “Sunbeam V8” for the rest of the Tiger’s life.  Unrelated to that however was the curious case of Tigers sold in South Africa and some European markets where they were designated variously as “Alpine 260” or “Alpine V8”.

On the silver screen: Sunbeam Alpine 260 opposite Simca Aronde and behind Renault 16 in the Italian film Come rubare la corona d'Inghilterra (1967) by Sergio Grieco (1917–1982).  The title translates literally as “How to Steal the Crown of England” but in the English-speaking world it’s better known as Argoman the Fantastic Superman.  The film garnered mixed reviews.

The reason the “Tiger” name never made it to the largest European markets was because Panhard in France was then selling a Tigre and Messerschmitt in the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990), held the trademark to Tiger.  The German Tiger can be visualized as something like the cockpit of a World War II (1939-1945) era Messerschmitt Bf-109 fighter aircraft fitted with four wheels and a 500 cm³ engine; it was as entertaining as it sounds.  Apparently on advice from Rootes’ French distributers (Société des Automobiles Simca), it was decided just to use the Alpine name and the car thus was advertised in France, Germany Austria & Switzerland variously as the “Alpine 260” or “Alpine V8”, the latter making marketing sense in countries not used to cubic inches as a measure although the imperial measure may have been used to emphasize the US connection, Detroit's V8s deservedly enjoying a reputation for smoothness, power and reliability.

What lay beneath: Body tags for US market Tiger (left) and French market Alpine 260 (centre & right).  Whether the 4.2 V8-powered cars had “Alpine” or “Tiger” badges, all were designated on the body tags as “Alpine 260 V8”.

However, in places such as Sweden and Monaco where there was no concern with violating trademark law, the “Tiger” name was used, as it was for vehicles ordered by US citizens for delivery in Europe.  Typically these were armed forces personnel able to buy through the military’s PX (Post Exchange) stores and they enjoyed the benefit at the end of their deployment of having their car shipped home to the US at no cost.  Volumes into Europe were always low and the sketchy records (assembled by Tiger owners clubs) suggest as few as seven Mark II models were exported to Europe, three of which went to France and by then the operation known as "Rootes Motors Overseas Ltd" had for all purposes switched their advertising to “Sunbeam Alpine V8”.

On the silver screen, with rear projection.  Cary Grant (1904–1986, left) with (pre-princess) Grace Kelly (1929–1982; Princess Consort of Monaco 1956-1982, right) behind the wheel of 1953 Mark I Sunbeam Alpine (in Sapphire Blue) in To Catch a Thief (1955).

In 1955, Sunbeam did release an Alpine Mark III but there was never a Mark II, “skipping numbers” something not uncommon in aircraft and software but rare in automobiles.  For students of technology, the long scene of Grace Kelly driving in To Catch a Thief (appearing mostly to be filmed through the windscreen) is an example of the RPT (rear projection technique) used before CGI (computer-generated imagery) technology existed.  While much of the film was shot on-location in Europe, the Alpine was shipped to the US for some of her driving scenes because only in Hollywood were the big studios outfitted with the rear-projection equipment able to emulate 360^o settings.  RPT obviously created new possibilities for cinematographers but for directors there was the advantage of the driver not being compelled to “keep their eyes on the road”, however bad an example this may have set for impressionable audiences.  In the age of CGI, the RPT looks obviously fake but it was at the time state-of-the-art and a companion piece to the vivid “Technicolor look” of the era.

Grace Kelly and Cary Grant filmed with RPT in To Catch a Thief.  In 1982, driving her Rover P6 (1963-1977) 3500 (1968-1977), she would die in an accident on a similar road. 

When first pondering the name to be used in Europe, within Rootes there may anyway have been awareness of the French manufacturer Peugeot in 1964 forcing Porsche to rename its new 901 to 911 (something which worked out OK) on the basis of the argument they had an “exclusive right in France” to sell cars with three numeral designation in France when the middle digit was a “0” (zero).  That seems dubious given Mercedes-Benz had for years been selling 200s & 300s and was about to release the 600 but the EEC (the European Economic Community, the Zollverein which would evolve into the EU (European Union)) wasn’t at the time governed by the “give way to the Germans” rule which would come to characterize the EU so defer Porsche did.  Rootes was thus wise to avoid the inevitable C&D (cease and desist letter) which may have been anticipated.

1965 PotY Jo Collins with her pink Tiger.

Stranger however is that Tigers sold in France were called “Alpine 260” despite (1) the French manufacturer Alpine having first sold cars there in 1954 and (2) the “260” being a reference to the V8 displacement in cubic inches (cid), imperial measurements not used in wholly metric France (where a 4.2 (litre) badge might have been expected).  Sunbeam was able to use the Alpine name because their original version (the one driven by Grace Kelly) had first been sold in France in 1953, thus pre-dating the French venture Automobiles Alpine, the corporate identity of which wasn’t formalized until 1955.

1965 French market Sunbeam Alpine 260 with after-market 14" Minilite wheels.

So, on the basis of “prior use”, the Alpine name could in France be used, despite the existence since 1954 of the sports cars produced by Dieppe-based Automobiles Alpine.  Whether the decision to append an imperial “260” rather than a more localized “4.2” was the British adding insult to injury isn’t known but the use of metric measurements in engine displacement had for decades been the British practice, possibly reflecting the early French dominance in the field (rather as terms like “fuselage”, “aileron” and such were picked up in the English-speaking world because it was the French who enjoyed a early lead in aviation and thus got to name the bits & pieces).  Still, while subtle cross-channel slights may sound improbably petty, that’s a quality not absent either in international relations or commerce and not only were London and Paris then squabbling over whether the Anglo-French SST (supersonic transport) airliner should be called “Concorde” or the anglicized “Concord”, in 1963, Charles de Gaulle (1890-1970; President of France 1959-1969) had vetoed the UK’s application for membership of the EEC.  For that last diplomatic setback, the British may have had themselves to blame because when in 1940 they offered de Gaulle sanctuary in London after the fall of France, the Foreign Office allocated him offices on Waterloo Place and overlooking Trafalgar Square.  A sensitive soul, neither Le Général nor Le Président ever forgave or forgot a slight.

Carroll Shelby, Sunbeam publicity shot for the US market, 1964.

Between April 1964 and August 3763 Mark I Tigers were built.  The 2706 “Mark IA” models which followed between August 1965 and February 1966 were based on the Alpine Series V which had a number of detail changes (most obviously the doors, hood (bonnet) and truck (boot) lid having sharper corners and a vinyl rather than metal top boot for the folding soft-top); while these now universally are listed as “Mark IAs”, that was never an official factory designation.  The first Mark IIs weren’t built until December 1966 with production lasting only until June the next year when Sunbeam’s stocks of Ford V8s was exhausted and just 536 (although 633 is oft-quoted) were built.  Although there were detail differences between the Mark IA and Mark II, the fundamental change was the use of the 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) engine and all but a few dozen were exported to the US.

Carroll Shelby invoiced Rootes US$10,000 to develop the original Tiger prototype and had expected to gain the contract for production on the same basis as Shelby American's arrangement with AC to produce the Cobra (ie he'd receive engineless cars into which he'd insert the V8s) but the process instead went the other way with Sunbeam importing the engines, contracting final assembly to Jensen.  Shelby instead received a small commission for each Tiger sold and appeared in some of the early marketing material.  He understood that despite (on paper) being superficially similar, the Tiger was a very different machine to the Cobra and, aimed at different markets, the two were really not competitors.  Amusingly, Shelby's US$10,000 fee was paid in a "back-channel deal", the funds coming from Rootes' US advertising budget rather than the engineering department's allocation.  That accounting sleight of hand was necessary because it was known to all the company's conservative chairman (Lord Rootes (1894–1964)), would never have approved such a project.  He changed his mind after test-driving the prototype and ordered immediate production, living long enough to see it enjoy success.

Tigerish: Lindsay Lohan imagined in cara gata (cat face) by Shijing Peng. 

One Sunbeam Tiger variant which did however not enjoy success was the Tiger GT which was supplied without a soft-top.  It might seem a strange notion that someone (unless they lived somewhere like the Atacama Desert in Chile which enjoys an average annual rainfall around 0.1 mm (0.00393699 of an inch)) would buy a convertible without a folding roof but in the 1960s it really was a thing, Mercedes-Benz releasing such a version of their W113 roadster (1963-1971).  Introduced in 1967 during the brief run of the 250 SL, Mercedes-Benz listed it officially as the “SL Coupe” but journalists and the public (and not a few dealers) quickly dubbed it the “California Coupe”, reviving an appellation which emerged in 1959 to describe the stacked headlight assembly used for a number of models between 1959-1973 because US lighting regulations outlawed the ovoid-shape composite headlights used for the RoW (rest of the world) production.  The rationale behind the label was apparently that “California” was the most American thing imaginable.  The California Coupe was enough of a success to be carried over to 1968 when the 280 SL was released and the model remained in the catalogue until the last W113s left the line in 1971; it’s believed some 1,100 were built.  Chevrolet in the era allowed buyers of the C2 Corvette (1963-1967) convertible to order their cars with the choice of (1) a soft-top, (2) a hard-top or (3) both and while a majority (35,892) chose both, of the 72,418 convertibles built 5,794 (just over 8%) eschewed the folding roof.  It’s true some of those would have been bought for use in competition so the folding roof would have been needless expense but it can be assume most were purchased to be registered for use on the street.

1964 Sunbeam Tiger GT interior.

So the “hardtop only” Tiger GT at the time probably seemed a good idea and it followed the model of the Alpine GT, added to the range when the Series III (1963-1964) was introduced (the versions with hard & soft-tops designated as Alpine STs although use of “ST” has always been about as rare as that enjoyed by “Sports Tourer” & “Gran Tourismo” which appeared in the early advertising copy.  The GT was essentially a “luxury” model and the most luxurious aspect was greater interior space, made possible by the area taken by the top’s stowage compartment being allocated to a larger, padded rear seat, albeit one really suitable only for children.  The GT’s unique appointments included full length pleated door panels (a padded arm rail a top), full carpeting (replacing the ST’s practical but utilitarian rubber mats), wood-rimmed steering wheel and burled walnut wood veneered facia for the dashboard.  Additionally, the GT featured as standard equipment some of the ST’s options including a clock, ammeter, cigar lighter and glove-box courtesy light.  The GT’s hard-top was painted to match the body, additional sound insulation was fitted and the carburetor even received a canister type air filter to minimise the “sucking sounds” from the induction system.  The GT’s modifications were all about refinement rather than performance for as well as being heavier, the GT received a slightly less powerful engine (80 HP against the ST’s 87).  Initially, the Alpine GT sold well though in the US it may have been the lack of a soft-top which curbed demand and when the Series V (1965-1968) Alpine was released, the GT no longer appeared in the US catalogue.

Brochure shot of 1963 Sunbeam Alpine GT interior.

So, with the Alpine GT having been well-received, it was logical for Rootes to include a Tiger GT in the new range; accordingly, during August 1964, Jensen completed was thought to be an initial batch of 15 Tiger GTs but they would prove to be the last.  Unlike the Alpine GT with its detuned engine, the Tiger GTs had the same mechanical specification as other Tigers and all 15 were shipped to US dealers where their “luxury” interiors seemed to have a “shaming” effect on the more basic (vinyl & rubber) appearance of the standard model, the distributers reporting to Rootes there was some market resistance to the 200 Tigers which had arrived, the drab interior not helping persuade buyers to spend some US$3,800 when Ford’s recently released Mustang offered the same engine and transmission combination in a bigger package for rather less.  The factory responded, adding to the Tiger’s specification the burl walnut veneer facia for the dashboard and the wood rimmed steering wheel (although the fancier door trims didn’t appear until the Mark IA revisions).  After that, the Tiger GT project was allowed to lapse with none were built after the first 15, its sole contribution to the line apparently inducing an upgraded interior for the standard model.

1972 Hillman Avenger Tiger advertisement (left) and 1972 Avenger Tiger Mark II advertisement (right).  The early Avengers (1972-1976) are remembered for their distinctive "boomerang (or hockey stick)" tail-lamps, a style later used by Mazda for the Cosmo (1975-1981 and sold in some markets as the RX-5).  It's believed the rear spoiler was not wind tunnel tested, despite the claim the "special aerofoil on the boot" was there to "keep the Tiger hugging the road".

1972 Hillman Avenger Tiger Mark II in Sundance Yellow.

While not quite the sublime to the ridiculous, the third and final Tiger certainly lacked the luster of its predecessors and was sold as a Hillman rather than a Sunbeam, the old Rootes group now owned by Chrysler.  Based on the Hillman Avenger (1970-1981), a competent if unexciting family car, the Avenger Tiger was initially a one-off built for motor shows (they used to be a thing) but such was the reaction a production run was arranged and, based on the Avenger GT, it was a genuine improvement, fitted with dual Weber carburetors on a high-compression cylinder head with larger valves and improved porting.  The power increase was welcome but wasn’t so dramatic as to demand any modification of the GT’s suspension beyond a slight stiffening of the springs.  On the road, the well-sorted RWD (rear wheel drive) dynamics meant it was good to drive and the performance was a notch above the competition at the same price point although Chrysler never devoted the resources to develop it into a machine which could have been competitive with Ford’s Escort in racing and rallying.  Despite that, when sold in the US as the Plymouth Cricket (1971-1972) the car won the demanding “Press on Regardless” rally although that wasn't enough to convince many Americans to buy the thing.  The first run of 200-odd Tigers early in 1972 were all in “Sundance” yellow with a black stripe (and in case that was too subtle, a “Tiger” decal adorned the rear quarter panels) but “Wardance” red was an option when an additional batch of 400 was made to meet demand.

A poster from Esso’s brilliantly successful “Put a Tiger in your Tank” campaign”.

Now, a remoteness between a product and the motifs used in its advertising is unexceptional but in 1959 when Esso in the US launched its “Put a Tiger in Your Tank” campaign, the concept was still quite novel but the abstraction (full up your car with Esso gas (petrol) and you’ll gain the power of a tiger) resonated and the campaign is today recognized as one of the most successful of the era.  Esso had, off and on, for decades used tigers as corporate symbols and the big cat had been the centre of a campaign in the UK in 1953 to promote gas sales after the end of post-war petrol rationing but that tiger had been a ferocious beast, something like the often hungry ones one would not wish meet in the wild.  The documentary evidence from the time suggests the Esso’s lethal looking Panthera tigris made it “just another advertisement” but when the US agencies re-imagined their big cat as something friendly and playful, it really caught the public imagination and created a number of minor industries in children’s toys, key-chains, piggy banks, buttons, pins, pens tiger masks, party glasses, coffee mugs, T-Shirts and even “tiger tails”, sold at Esso-branded gas stations to be attached to gas caps, the implication being to suggest there really was a “tiger in the tank”.

Esso’s original tiger in its “Esso for Extra” campaign which didn’t capture the hearts of UK consumers; perhaps memories of tiger hunting in the Raj were still too close.

The key word clearly was “tiger” because the cat was never named and within the corporation was referred to only as the “Whimsical Tiger”.  Genuinely, the friendly looking tiger seems to have transformed Esso’s image (it latter would suffer) and while the extent to which the campaign can be credited with the boom in Esso’s sales (they booked increases notably higher than their competitors), historians of the industry acknowledge the effect was significant.  The implications weren’t lost on advertising executives who learned the lesson that an emotional connection is often preferable to an intellectual one; while the UK’s earlier (zoologically a close to correct depiction) tiger certain conveyed the power and energy of the charismatic creature, it was the warm and friendly “Whimsical Tiger” which appealed to people and their children, the latter anxious to nudge their parents to buy gas from Esso in the hope of getting another plush toy tiger.

Pontiac GTO advertising, 1965 (G.T.O. also sometimes used in documents).

Pontiac definitely had Esso’s “British Tiger” in mind when they began using the big cat in advertising the GTO (1964-1974), the “male market” definitely the target and the messaging all about power and aggression.  Introduced in late 1963, the GTO was “an option package” designed to circumvent GM’s (General Motors) corporate-wide ban on such a thing existing and although conceived as a niche product, immediately it proved so popular (and profitable) that GM abandoned their principles and authorized on-going production.  The GTO is often referred to as the “first muscle car” (a formula which would come to be explained as “a big powerful engine from a large, heavy full-size put into a smaller, lighter vehicle) and while that’s arguable, it was certainly the 1964 GTO which defined the original 1960s “muscle car”.  Actually, the formula, on both sides of the Atlantic, had been in use since the inter-war years but what was unique about the US of the mid-1960s was a combination of circumstances: A booming economy and a large and growing cohort of males aged 17-25 with the cash or credit rating to afford to buy muscle cars.  Really, there was probably no animal on earth better suited to advertising something like the GTO and soon the imagery was all-pervasive, “Tiger Gold” added to the color chart.  Even before the release of the GTO, Pontiac had used a tiger theme in its advertising but it’s the GTO with which it became most associated.

Pontiac GTO advertising, 1965.  Now, were a company to use a tiger skin to try to sell something, they'd be cancelled.  Times have changed.

The original GTO wasn’t quite as muscular as the original press car provided to Car & Driver magazine for their infamous “comparison test” against a Ferrari 250 GTO, printed in the March 1964 edition.  That Pontiac GTO had not only a much bigger engine but was also modified to the point it was close to race-ready and was certainly nothing like the ones in showrooms but despite that deceptive and misleading trick, the ones customers could buy possessed sufficient charm to convince over 32,000 people to pay the retail price, some six times the marketing department’s projections.  Whether the use of tigers in the advertising and promotional material much contributed to the popularity isn’t known but as a piece of name association it worked not at all; by 1966, by which time Pontiac was shipping close to 100,000 GTOs annually, it was obvious males aged 17-25 had settled on the nickname “the Goat”, not an animal which would have been an obvious choice to apply to a high-performance car with youth appeal.  However, that’s how the English language works, and “the Goat” was a playful, phonetic shortening of GTO although recent revisionists have suggested it was an allusion to the car being “the greatest of all time” (that link with “goat” coming much later) or in “eating up the competition”, the GTO was emulating the goat’s reputation for eating just about anything.  There’s nothing to support these quasi-theories and there’s no doubt the nickname came from nothing but sound-play. Beginning in 1967, Pontiac switched the theme of its advertising from the tigeresque to “The Great One”.

Another big, dangerous cat: Advertisement for the 1976 Mercury Cougar.  Despite the apparent implications, not until early in the twenty-first century would “cougar” pick up the informal meaning: “an older woman who seeks sexual relationships with much younger men”; Mercury truly was ahead of the linguistic curve.

The big cats have provided names for manufacturers to use for cars; there have been Tigers, Lions, Jaguars, Cheetahs and Leopards (there is even a Leopard tank, in production since 1965 and now in its third generation) and there was also a Mercury Cougar.  Introduced in 1967 as a kind of up-market Mustang, it’s significance is not only that immediately it was highly successful but that it was the last truly successful Mercury; with some three million sold over 35-odd seasons, it was the marque’s biggest selling nameplate although from the late 1970s, Cougars bore scant resemblance, physically or conceptually to the classic original.  The press reports in 1967 made much of Ford’s admission the Mercury was an attempt to “build a Jaguar”, noting the statement was intended not to be read literally but rather an indication of a wish to build the sort of car which would appeal to someone who would buy a Jaguar.  The consensus at the time was Mercury had succeeded in building a fine car although whether many Jaguar customers were convinced isn’t known.  Some of the Cougars produced in the first four seasons of its long life were legitimate parts of the muscle car ecosystem but by 1976 when the above advertisement appeared, built on the intermediate Ford Torino’s platform, the Cougar it was little more than a slightly smaller Ford Thunderbird; that was bad enough but things would get worse.