Driven to Obscurity

Adding to the hostile climate for hood ornaments were new pedestrian safety laws overseas. In 2005, the European Union forced carmakers to meet minimum standards for pedestrian safety, based on damage caused in frontal collisions. The removal of upright hood ornaments helped meet the requirements and rather than make different hoods for different countries, many international automakers—including Jaguar—removed the hood ornaments altogether.

In doing so, they've bet that hood ornaments have become passé—gaudy and gratuitous relics in a world of smaller, greener automobiles and monstrous SUVs. "We've taken a much more modern, svelte and aerodynamic approach," says Tim Watson, vice president of marketing and communications for Jaguar, North America, referring to his company's decision to remove the "leaper" as a standard accessory. "Are customers crying out for them?" he adds, "I don't think they care."

But not everyone is de-accessorizing. Maybachs have retained their interlocking M's and Rolls-Royce has no plans to kill its gleaming figurine, the "Spirit of Ecstasy"—especially since, according to company research, one of the most important things to prospective owners of the nearly $400,000 sedan is that the ornament be visible from either side of the back seat. Still, to combat theft and meet Europe's tough pedestrian safety laws, the Rolls-Royce winged lady retracts into the car's hood when a collision is detected or the doors are locked. Lincoln spokesman Mark Schirmer says the company "will soldier on" with the crosshair-like ornament of the popular Town Car. On the blue-collar side of town, Mack garbage and construction trucks are standing behind the squat bulldog that's long been the company's mascot.

As the sun sets on hood ornaments in the United States, some are sad to see them go. "They were about personality and identity," says Don Sommer, a 75-year-old collector from Troy, Michigan, who owns more than 3,000 original hood ornaments and makes replicas for a living. He estimates that there are a few hundred enthusiasts like him out there, but they're dwindling in number, too. One bright shining hope: China. Soaring sales of boat-sized Buicks and SUVs, relatively lax safety laws, and rampant status anxiety means the time might be ripe for a new golden era in garish automotive art.

© 2008