Of all the styling devices used in the century-plus-ten of the American automobile, few have had the staying power of the vinyl roof. You might call it the fetish that refused to die.
It began simply enough. In the 1920s, all closed cars had canvas roofs, since the technology didn’t permit metal pressings as large as an auto top. Some upscale cars substituted leather for canvas, and it became fashionable to extend the covering down to the belt molding, including the rear quarter panels. “Angus,” my 1925 Hudson Brougham is an example of this style. By 1936, though, when GM had introduced the one-pieced steel “turret top,” it was more fashionable to display painted steel.
In the 1950s, canvas covering came back into vogue, first as a crutch. In order to distract buyers from the fact that it had no hardtop convertible, Ford offered a fabric-roofed Crestliner two-door in 1950 and ’51, and the companion Mercury Monterey, Lincoln Lido and Lincoln Cosmopolitan Capri. Kaiser and Frazer also used a fabric roof covering on the four-door “hardtop” models (the “post” between the doors was transparent, but not removable). But with the mid-1951 introduction of the Ford Victoria, the Crestliner was laid to rest.
And so was the vinyl top for about a decade. In 1962 it appeared again on the Thunderbird Landau, complete with landau irons, as on this ’63. By 1963, Cadillac offered vinyl on the Coupe de Ville and Fleetwood Sixty Special sedan. Pontiac had a “Cordova vinyl” option on all models, even Tempest (this one’s a ’64). Vinyl was an option on the ’64 big Ford “fastback” hardtops, too.
The vinyl-topped low-cost prestige car first appeared in the form of the 1965 Ford Galaxie 500 LTD, although vinyl could be ordered on any model, like this six-cylinder “plain” Galaxie 500 seen at Hershey. The die was cast, though, as Chevy countered with the Caprice in 1966 and Plymouth with the Fury III VIP. Even AMC was in the game with the Ambassador DPL and a vinyl option for the Rambler Rebel.
Before we knew it, vinyl became an obsession. Chrysler Corporation offered “mod tops,” in fashionable floral patterns, in 1969 and ’70 (the rumored “paisley top” on 1971 Imperials was actually a faded burgundy overprint on excess mod material). There were half-vinyl tops, even vinyl tops on pickups. And somewhere along the line “opera windows” made their entrance, even on hardtop sedans.
Stylish or not, the vinyl top has its disadvantages. Once moisture gets under the vinyl, and eventually it does, sooner in seacoast climates, it eats away under the skin. First you see bubbles and fraying edges, or rusty patches under moldings. Eventually the vinyl becomes too nasty and must be stripped. Then the the once-hidden rust holes become apparent. Vinyl top cars present special challenges to the restorer.
You’d think that in about a decade the fad would have run its course, but the craze proved virulent. Automakers were offering vinyl tops on cars right into the 1990s, some of which should really have been prohibited by law.
This may be more than you want to know about vinyl tops, but really we’ve only scratched the surface. Is there a vinyl top that you particularly like or love to hate? Send your pix to the CarPort. All decisions of the judges will be vinyl.
