I was maybe four years old when I had cut my face while pretend-shaving in the bathroom along with my dad. This had been our thing. He would leave the plastic cap on a disposable razor he would give me and help me lather up my face. I’d then scrape off the shaving cream in motions that mimicked his, and voila! I loved “shaving” with Dad. Always one to try to do things correctly, one day I noticed him remove the plastic cover from his own razor. I did the same and promptly gashed a line near the corner of my mouth. The scar is still very visible, but I smile when I think of its origin and as a souvenir of one of my earliest bonding activities with my father.
It was a monumental event for me to start noticing little wisps of facial hair sprouting on my upper lip when I was in the eighth grade. “I’m becoming a man!”, I thought to myself as I examined my face in the mirror in the mornings before heading to middle school. I had waited years to “need” to shave, and that moment was nigh. Yet, I protected those sparse hairs like my allowance money and didn’t think of shaving for months afterward. Here was finally some publicly displayable evidence of manliness from me, on my person, and no one was going to take that away. I finally caved and shaved toward the end of the school year, when I was confirmed in the Lutheran church and needed to look nice for my parents’ open house and pictures.
Both confirmation and my newfound need to shave were significant rites of passage for me during a very awkward stage of adolescence, one from which I felt I would transform effectively later in my teenage years from an ugly duckling into something of a swan with healthily budding self-esteem. By the time I was a high school senior, I had turned into someone I had grown to like many things about. I had a measure of confidence and was developing a social skill set that had been mostly foreign to me up to that point, which would serve me well in years to come. This introvert was on his way to navigating existence in environments over which I would have only so much control in the future.
The first thing I noticed when I came across this ’84 (or ’85, as I could find no unquestionable identifiers) Celica GT-S convertible was how much its front grille resembles a disposable razor cartridge. Literally. If some boutique shaving company had third-generation “Celica” razors for sale, I’d be seriously tempted to buy some for the novelty factor if the price wasn’t ridiculous. The original grille of the new-for-’82 models was also a little razor-like, but on the ’84 refresh, the Gillette look was in full effect.
The third-generation of Toyota’s four-seat sportster could be described as its post-adolescent phase. Gone was the charming, rounded, and wholly likeable look of the California-designed second-generation cars. While the previous Celica looked like it had enjoyed its milk and cookies every day after school, the ’82 arrived looking chiseled after a regimen of regular fitness training. In place of the previous model’s pleasant, car-next-door aura was an athletic profile that reminded me more than a little bit of a scaled-down J-body Chrysler Cordoba or Dodge Mirada. (Please squint along with me just a little bit.) The pillarless greenhouse of this Celica convertible looks similar enough to that of the landau roof-equipped 1980 – ’83 Cordoba hardtop without a C-pillar window, at least as I had pictured both cars in my head.
The 1979 – ’81 Griffith Sunchaser convertible had been based on the Celica notchback and had a lift-off, targa-style roof and a soft, folding rear section. The Sunchaser had been on my want-list when I was a teenager after my family had moved moved to southwest Florida after my high school graduation. My chances of finding one of those were pretty slim, as only about 2,000 or so were built, and only so many of them would have survived in the decade or so up to when I was looking for one. Unlike the Sunchaser, the 1984 and ’85 Celica GT-S convertible had a conventional top that folded out of sight. Toyota had contracted with American Sunroof Company (ASC) to engineer the new Celica convertible’s modifications, and had also purpose-built an expensive ($5 million), expansive (46,000 square feet) facility in Rancho Dominguez, California to assemble them.
There were no upgrades to the powertrain of the new convertible, which used the same 116-horsepower, 2.4 liter 22R-E four-cylinder engine as the Celica GT-S notchback and liftback. Weighing about 3,000 with all of the required modifications and reinforcements, the GT-S convertible could do 0-60 miles per hour in the mid-eleven second range with its five-speed manual transmission. The $17,700 ($52,000 in 2023) price of the convertible was over half again as much as the GT-S coupe, which was a high price to pay for top-down motoring versus having a Celica with a sunroof and the windows down.
As much as I like this Celica, there’s zero question that if I absolutely needed a fast, sporty, four-place convertible back in ’84, I would have gone straight to Ford and picked up a 5.0-liter V8-equipped, 175-horsepower Mustang GT for just thirteen large ($38,300 today). I know nothing of economies of scale, but it seems to me that Toyota needed to recoup part of their investment in that California factory, and part of that strategy was tacked onto the bottom line of the GT-S convertible. Only 200 (or 250, depending on the source) convertibles were built for ’84, with another 4,500 produced for ’85 before the front-drive, fourth-generation cars arrived for ’86, which again included a very attractive convertible.
These wedge-look Celicas were the last before the aesthetic pendulum started swinging in a more rounded direction with the next generation. I’m more drawn to styling that’s a combination of lines and curves, so from a visual standpoint, the second- and fourth-generation Celicas look best to me. Much as humans mature and generally get a bit rounder and softer as we age, there was never another Celica after our featured car that looked quite this chiseled, as if one could cut one’s finger while tracing one of its lines or running it along the edges of that razor cartridge-like grille. Here’s hoping this one gets the proper rear window, and love, it deserves.
Roscoe Village, Chicago, Illinois.
Saturday, June 17, 2023.
I don’t recall my dad ever letting me watch him shave, but I do recall the vintage Norelco triple head rotary electric razor on the bathroom countertop – one of those grown-up things I saw and just ignored as a kid since I didn’t need it. (note: these were called Philishave everywhere but in the US, where Philco successfully prevented Philips from using their own name because it was too similar). I finally was given a cheaper version of the Norelco shaver to use myself; it had only two round heads instead of three. I never enjoyed shaving; it was just one more chore I had to do. Also, I never really learned to use a disposable or manual razor, and am not good even with non-rotary electric razors. I’ve had a succession of Norelcos throughout my life; each one claiming it has some magical new blade that shaves closer, each one disappointing me by not being better than the last one, only more expensive. The exception was when they went to a wet/dry design that could be used in the shower, with or without shaving cream. My current shaver is my first non-Norelco – a $20 knockoff they were selling at Lidl one week. It’s 90% as good as the my previous $150 Norelco; given the price difference I’ll settle for the somewhat lower quality.
Having almost never used a Gillette or Schick style razor, I never made the connection with Celica grilles, although certain mid-to-late-’69s Dodges have grilles that distinctly look like electric shavers (the Braun reciprocating variety, not Norelcos). I also never made the connection between the Celica convertible and the second-generation Cordoba. But I like seeing those Cordobas in any context – it’s a beautifully proportioned, luxurious, comfortable car that didn’t get its due in the marketplace due to arriving during a recession, Chrysler’s well-publicized financial and quality-control problems, the inferior ride from moving to the F (Volare) platform rather than the B body, and just not being as distinctive as the first generation. I do see some resemblance to the Lincoln Mark V and VI, but it looks smoother than the Mark VI ever did. Also, much of the K-car’s design language derives from this car. Very similar chiseled rear sections for example, but without a Cordoba or Mirada to compare it to, the K car just looks like a box. The 3rd gen Celica is too boxy for my tastes as well – give me a 2nd gen Celica anyday, with the Mustang-esque first gen my second favorite, followed by the first of the FWD Celicas.
The second-generation Cordoba was truly a stunner, as was the Dodge Mirada. The Mirada, being the sporty one, would probably have been a better comparison with the Celica, but the night I put this together, and for whatever reason, the Cordoba was my default.
These Celicas were also a little on the boxy side for me, too, but I forgive the hatchbacks, which somehow manage to still look really beautiful. I test-drove an ’84 notchback before buying my ’88 Mustang, and dynamically, there was no comparison. That Celica felt zippy, and the air blew ice cold in that Florida heat. The styling left me cold. If it had been a hatchback, I might have bought it.
Funny you mention those electric shavers, because that was what my dad went to, next. (Maybe after my shaving accident?). I have seen many ads for those new wet-dry head shavers, and while I’ve been tempted to buy / try one, I like my life simple and will continue to do it the old-fashioned way.
I like things simple too, which for me means a razor that won’t cut my skin if I’m not careful, and not having to mess with shaving cream if I don’t want to. I guess we can all have our own ideas about what constitutes simplicity…
I like the Cordoba better than the Mirada; it’s more plush and elegant without going over-the-top in Brougham-ness. I find it interesting that many consider the Mirada more attractive than the Cordoba, whereas with the first generation all anyone could see in the Charger SE was “rebadged Cordoba”. The Magnum helped give Dodge their own identity, but I recall it was still outsold by the Cordoba. Things may have been different if Ricardo Montalbán endorsed Dodges rather than Chryslers.
My memory of shaving with my father comes from the opposite end of the spectrum from yours. During Dad’s final illness, he was mostly confined to bed in a nursing home. On one of my weekend visits, he asked me to shave him, explaining that he didn’t like the way my stepmom did it. The thing that kept me from tearing up at the reversal of roles was the fact that the man’s beard was as tough as a wire brush and took every bit of skill and concentration I could muster. I had (and have) a real wuss beard in comparison.
I still like these Celicas, but forgot that the convertible was such a low production model. I think the numbers are in favor of this being an 85.
What a great experience it must have been to be able to do that for your dad. My peers and I are now part of that “sandwich generation”.
You’re right about the probability of this one being an ’85.
These and the MKII Supras were beautiful in their angular looks. I too hope this example sees a good home.
The Mk II Supra is still gorgeous. I’ve seen one or two of those in my neighborhood and have yet to figure out the angle from which to write about it. I also hope this Red Celica convertible gets saved and fixed up. It was clearly garaged and maintained up to a certain point.
The Celica GT-S, like the Supra, looked especially attractive in hatchback form. What made it so unique. The steep C-pillar, being one of its styling highlights. Along with its chiselled looks, and dramatic fender flares. In convertible form, the shape while attractive, looks more generic. As the angularity, almost becomes a liability to its looks. Especially, in the trunk area. I would agree, the Mustang convertible was a better-looking car. The Mustang’s softer edges have aged much better. The busy black cladding added on top of the Celica’s fender flares, makes the design unnecessarily busy. Besides, the dated angularity of the design.
However, I’d suggest the biggest flaw in the styling of the Celica GT-S, was its cheap looking nose. Understandable, Toyota wanted to differential the GT-S, from the Supra. But they shouldn’t have done so, by applying an inferior nose/grille design to the GT-S. The smoked acrylic looked cheap and plasticky then, as it does now. Reminds me of the 1988 Ford Tempo nose, which I found busy, and unattractive.
I prepared a quick Photoshop of a suggested better-looking nose. A cleaner design, retaining the smoked headlight covers. Maintaining a family resemblance to the Supra, while looking less exclusive. Upper half of the pop-up headlight covers, being body-coloured. Closer, to what Toyota was doing later with the Celica.
1988 Ford Tempo nose. Grille was busier, than needed. Original Tempo grille was cleaner.
It’s another Ford product that comes to mind when I think of grilles resembling razors.
The Celica’s slotted grille never bothered me – maybe because it was black, and I suppose it blended in with the black headlamp covers and the smoked turn signals… but these chromed razor slots seemed overwhelming on a car like the Fusion.
To me, the GT-S grille and headlight doors looked too plasticky. Especially, with that semi-transparent smoke finish. Like they were made from recycled refrigerator crisper drawer covers, or fridge butter tray lids. Reminiscent of how model makers like Revell or Monogram, represented glass, in their kits. I thought adding a body-coloured element would help.
Eric, I had also thought that the original Fusion’s grille looked straight-up like a razor. Good call.
The funny thing about the ’84 / ’85 Mustang’s looks are just how much better they have aged, though by the mid-’80s, those Fox Mustangs had already been in the market for a long time. When new, I could see how this Celica looked considerably fresher.
I rather like the original Celica front end, though I like your reimagination of it.
I was never bothered by the ’84-85 Celica grille, it was the grille from the previous two years that looked weird to me, with the headlights aimed upward towards outer space (they were hinged at the bottom front and pivoted upright when in use). I usually don’t like fender flares, but find them essential on this generation of Celica or Supra. Somehow they mesh nicely with the crisply folded body; the round wheel openings on lower-end models clash with the boxy surroundings.
I agree that the ’84 / ’85 Celica grilled and front fascia looked much more finished. I did like the intriguing ’82 & ’83 front end with those forward-pivoting headlights. Those cars always seemed to be staring up into the sky, though, like they were being bourgie. It was a bold attempt at something different, a la the Porsche 928’s headlights.
I’d never really associated the front of that mid-80s Celica with a disposable razor, but now that you’ve said it, the image is fixed in my mind.
I have nothing against disposable razor cartridges, but I am totally not a fan of wedge-shaped, hard-edge, car design from the 80s. I remember thinking at the time that the sooner that trend was over, the better. Like big poofy women’s hair styles and big shoulder pads (on men and women’s clothing…but worse IMO on women’s), these were 80s fashions that seemed thankfully short-lived. But like any fashion, one never knows at the time when or if they’ll disappear, so I remember being quite dismayed for a while thinking that car design had fallen down some stylistic well where the future was all going to be robo-tastic future machine hard angles. (I guess in the end we did get the robots, but for better or worse they’re invisible)
My dad shaved with a double-edge “safety” razor when I was a little kid. So, my emulation was with a toy safety razor…which I’d forgotten mostly about until reading this article. I don’t recall being all that fascinated with shaving, but I did love to take that thing (the toy one) apart over and over again. I think I eventually wore out the threads where the handle screwed into the razor part. As with most of my toys, I wore them out through constant disassembly and reassembly.
Jeff, I really like that you were more interested in how that toy razor was put together rather than actually “using it”. I imagine that might be true of many of my friends who went on to become engineers. “How does this work?”
I was happy when the hard-edged look gave way to more organic-looking designs again, but then things had gone too far in the opposite direction in the mid-’90s with totally rounded cars like the first Hyundai Tiburon.
You’re not alone as far as cutting yourself pretend-shaving. My daughter had a similar mishap (with her arm) back when she was about 6. At the time, she (and I) were horrified, but now we laugh about it. Lesson learned.
I’m a fan of this generation of Celicas – might be my favorite two years, in fact. I think the razor grille was better looking than the ’82-’83 models – yes, the design can be viewed as a bit clicheic, but overall I think it was a sharp (get it?) design.
Oh, and I never noticed a resemblance between the Celica’s profile and the Cordoba’s – until now. But now that you’ve pointed it out, it’ll be hard to see one of these Celica coupes (or convertibles w/ the top up) from now on without that comparison coming to mind.
Right! I don’t think the Celica notchback so much resembles the Cordoba / Mirada so much, but the convertible does, with the absence of its b-pillar. The Cordoba and Mirada might have been the last true hardtop coupes made by a domestic manufacturer. Can someone verify?
Only if the rear side window rolls down, and I can’t find a photo online that would verify it does. If that’s not a criteria for being a “true hardtop”, than the 1985 GM E bodies (Toronado, Riviera, Eldorado) postdate the Mopar duo. Although the rear side windows in the 79-85 E body coupes didn’t open, they did roll down in the Riv and Eldo convertibles, and I’ve read online the convertible window-opening mechanism and switchgear can be retrofitted on the coupes to make them “true hardtops”.
I find this car so good looking, it has wonderful masculine proportions and a killer profile. I can see a direct link to modern Toyotas like the CH-R and Corolla Cross, both cars I admire, the way bold black trim is used to direct the eye, and the expressive sculpting of the wheel arches contrasting with more linear elements elsewhere.
I like how you’ve drawn a direct line between the styling of this Celica GT-S convertible and Toyota’s current design language. When I think of most Japanese makes and “heritage” styling cues or aesthetic continuity, very few examples come to mind, with the Nissan Z and Mazda MX-5 coming first to mind.
Toyota FJ Cruiser.
The Mk1 Celica Supra had a grille designed to recall the 2000GT; the rest of the car didn’t look much alike though except for the sensuously stretched windshield to front wheel section in both cars.
Nissan had a long run of retro cars like the Pao and Figaro that weren’t sold outside the Japanese domestic market.
Not related to the convertible version, or to shaving, but I just recalled a music video I watched recently that starred a Celica from this generation – the song is Millionaire by Australian country singer Fanny Lumsden. Figured it was worth a mention here:
I like the song, the message, and the gold Celica. Thanks for posting this!
I too never thought to compare the profile of this Celica with that of a 1981 Cordoba, but now I can’t unsee it. This must be one of the very few times since 1957 that a Chrysler product became a template for another automobile manufacturer. I second the idea that the fastback profile of the Hatchback version wore these sharp angular lines better than this convertible.
I think the third-generation Celica hatchback is still a genuinely good-looking car. There were angles and perspectives of the 2nd Celica liftback that took some getting used to for me (the overly long rear quarter windows, wagon-esque profile), but with the third-generation hatchback, it was love at first sight. It’s like the cheerleader in one’s high school graduating class who still looks basically the same at the twenty-year reunion.
And the Chrysler designers responsible for the second Cordoba and Mirada did their homework. These cars have their aesthetic detractors, but I’m in the other camp.
I like the first three generations all for different reasons. However, if forced to pick my favorite it would be the first generation. Too bad the first Gen had so much trouble with rust all throughout the body. About the only safe place for that car would have been the Mojave Desert in a garage. Below I like and I see it often but am waiting for pictures of the interior and engine when less harsh lighting.
Read this at 5 am but just now able to comment…
I shaved prior to reading this and cut myself. That hasn’t happened in eons…and then I read about cutting oneself while shaving. I never did pretend shave with my father – he complained about how doing so was nothing but a big waste of time. He is right; it’s like laundry or the dishes as more keeps happening regardless of what you try to do. Long ago I knew a guy who had been in the military and got scolded about the tough stubble on his upper lip. He bought a bottle of Nair and nothing ever grew back. Maybe he was onto something…
The Cordoba / Celica profile comparison is amazing. While these Celicas were never on my radar long ago (too few cylinders) I really appreciate their looks now.
Jason, Nair on the upper lip sounds like a nightmare come true. Wow. Things I had never even thought were possible or actually done.
When I re-read this post really early this morning (as I always do, to try to catch any fixes that need to be made – just one today), part of me was mentally preparing for readers to tell me I needed glasses for making the Celica-Cordoba comparison. I’ve been pleased to read that others, including you, have agreed with me or seen it on some level. That made me happy.
Nair.
The sulfur smell of that stuff sticks in my mind. I cannot imagine anyone wanting to spread it beneath their nose.
Not a generation of Celica I’ve liked, Joseph. That unrelenting squareness, the sharpness of the corners and angles, the flatness of the panels – it just doesn’t speak to me. I’ve never stopped to analyze why. Maybe at some subconscious level I figure I’m not square so why should my car be? 🙂
But then neither does shaving. I was cursed with extremely tender facial skin which never seemed to toughen up. Early attempts at shaving, as insisted upon by high school, resulted in sore, raw cheeks, no matter how fresh the blade or I angled the head. Didn’t have a power razor, as there was no electricity in the bathroom. I’d shave the night before so it wouldn’t look so bad at school. I wound up growing a moustache to avoid the awkwardness of shaving up under my nose without cutting myself. That much facial hair was permitted. University years saw the beginnings of the beard which has been with me ever since.
I don’t have this generation of Celica, only Supras.
Peter, beautiful Supra model, another great one in your vast collection. One thing I’ve learned as I’ve read comments over the years is how there’s wisdom in my learning not to take even little things for granted – in this case, the ease with which I shave.
Always thought shaving looked like an annoying time waster when I was a kid; hence I grew a beard at 18 and it’s still there over 30 years later. This shape Celica/Supra hatchback is my favourite; I love the look, especially the squared-off wheelarches. The notchback is okay, but a little boring – even in convertible form.
The overall shape is similar to the Citroen Bx of the same era, except the Citroen does not have a grill, so no razor-look. Maybe it has the protective cover on it.
I don’t remember watching my dad shave, but I am enough older that he use a safety razor with the double edged blades. He had tried an electric in the past and it was still in the cupboard. It was a foil type (not rotary) and it had a little wheel that you had to spin to start it up after you plugged it in. I am sure some electrical engineer can e plain why it required this.
I have another story about shaving. At university I became friends with a guy who was a Sikh from north India. In his religion you never cut your hair, which includes not shaving. This means he had very full beard and waist length hair, thus he also wore a turban. He found shaving very interesting because no one in his family shaved, and I found turbans equally interesting. A turban is about 5 or 6 meters long, the same as a sari, but it has to be rolled before you tie it. it take 2 people ro roll a turban, so I learned how to do it, but not to tie a turban, which is quite a skill.
This is fascinating. I love reading about cultures and traditions different than my own, and I hadn’t even thought about what it would take to properly wrap a turban. Very cool, and thanks for sharing this, Mike.
I had the hatchback version of this car in blue.
It was the perfect car for the sophisticated young single I was (or thought I was anyway…)
I still have fond memories of my time with it.
Traded it for a Lexus SC 300…even more adventures.
Awesome. There seems to be a general consensus in the readership that the hatchback was a genuinely good-looking car, and I concur.