Many of my Curbside finds have been during some of the most random of times. Last month, I was on my annual business trip to my insurance underwriting territories in the beautiful, Midwestern states of Iowa and Nebraska when this Toronado Troféo came into view. “Brad”, the marketing guy, and I have worked together for almost fifteen years, so he and I have this whole system down. I’ll fly into Eppley International in Omaha, and he’ll get me from there before we head out to see our clients. We’ll have this classic rock soundtrack playing in the background, make our game plan for what each meeting will entail, and just shoot the stuff and catch up. He’s cool, and we work well together.
I’ve gotten a sense that he’s finally used to me having my camera in the footwell in front of me as we drive from place to place, often with miles-long stretches of expressway lined with cornfields and lots of time to kill. I learned long ago that face-to-face interactions with business clients can be really enjoyable and also essential in both parties gaining an understanding of each other on both sides of the transactional equation. In my business writing, I tend to just get right down to it (as a no-nonsense, born-and-bred Flint native), but in person, I also like to have fun and get to know my trusted agency partners. I have long held awareness that the difference in “tone” between my written business and personal communication can seem quite significant.
With that said and putting myself in Brad’s shoes, I can imagine that more than a few occasions have come up during these trips when he might have wished I wasn’t quite so enthusiastic with my picture-taking while riding shotgun. I imagine that this Oldsmobile’s sighting might have been one of those times. I mean, I understand that it’s one thing to take a picture of a parked car or even a moving car across the road that’s traveling in the opposite direction. It’s something else entirely to be moving in lockstep with other travelers where the odds are very good that your two vehicles will line up again right next to each other. Unless Brad’s company car had a dark limo tint (which it doesn’t, and the thought of that makes me chuckle), the riders in the vehicle of interest would likely see me geeking out and raising my camera to the passenger’s side door window glass. My modus operandi at the time was to get my pictures, regardless of quality, because these downsized Olds E-bodies have been thin on the ground for years.
It could also go either way in terms of how such a driver’s or passenger’s observation of my interest in their vehicle could be interpreted. It’s possible that the occupants of the Toronado would be flattered by my apparent enthusiasm and attention, or conversely, disdainful of what could be misunderstood as a diss on their example of what had been, when new, a very unpopular car. After managing to take these few pictures from the passenger’s seat (and I offer my apologies that they’re not up to my usual standards) and being satisfied with them, I wasn’t exactly craning my neck afterwards to make eye contact with the driver. I’m all for great insurance adventures with Brad, but fending off a potential road rage attack ranks very low on the list of experiences I wish to have.
Timing is often crucial, and it wasn’t until I had gotten home to examine these frames that I paid more attention to the tanker trailer in front of the Oldsmobile. “Inedible.” I had to laugh to myself. This very word might have been in the minds of many buyers and fans of Oldsmobile’s traditional style of middle-class luxury when the downsized, fourth-generation E-Body Toronado appeared in the fall of 1985 as an ’86 model. This car wasn’t the cornfed, steak-and-potatoes personal luxury car that many had come to expect and appreciate from Lansing. No, this new Toronado was like what happens when a well-loved eating establishment tries to modernize itself with a new, hip image, overhauls the menu wholesale, and then also completely loses its clientele.
I feel like I should reiterate from my essay from earlier this year on a different, same-generation Toronado that I like these cars and had mostly appreciated their aesthetics from day one. I have also eaten monkey meat before, during my fourth grade year spent mostly in my paternal grandfather’s ancestral village in upcountry Liberia. Would you say that monkey sounds inedible? It tasted fine to me before I learned that I was eating the beautiful, fascinating creature with which I had been so joyfully playing in the living room only days before when it was brought by the house. I love Liberian and west African cuisine and this monkey experience was an outlier, but while living there, I had no choice but to eat whatever was in front of me, or nothing. If you wanted a new Toronado in ’86, there was this relatively small, rounded, front-drive E-body, or nothing. The Troféo package was added in mid-’87 as a sportier, more road-focused alternative to the more luxury-oriented base model. You can read about the Troféo package here and also here.
I know the featured car is either an ’87 or an ’88 because of the Toronado badge on the trunk lid and also since the Troféo became its own separate model for ’89, but that’s as far as I can take it. If someone can correctly identify the model year, please comment below. Many consumers must have thought these cars were inedible, automotively speaking, because only about 15,000 ’87 models were sold, and another 16,500 for ’88. This was after Olds had pulled in over 48,000 Toronado orders for ’84 and another 42,000 for ’85, the year before the big shrink. Ouch. My Encyclopedia of American Cars from the editors of Consumer Guide did not break out numbers between the base Toronado and the Troféo for these two model years, but given the E-Body’s scarcity in both years, I’m not sure that it even matters. I wonder if parts availability had contributed to the creative exhaust outlet solution found on this example, which I almost didn’t notice until I was editing out the license plate number.
The chefs at General Motors had fiddled with the Oldsmobile menu and ended up with a dish with much, much smaller portions and a completely different flavor profile than what most people either were used to or wanted from their personal luxury Toronado. Was this new package truly inedible, or just too different for the time compared to the dish it had replaced? Like I had mentioned before, I’ve eaten some very exotic foods, and independent of that, I’ve also eaten some small, unsatisfying meals. I might, however, have sampled this new Troféo, even if I wouldn’t have ordered the entire entrée.
Somewhere on I-80 in Nebraska.
Monday, September 29, 2025.
Brochure photos were sourced from www.oldcarbrochures.org.
Great find, I don’t think I’ve seen one for decades.
I ignored these when they were new, they didn’t seem special and I thought they were just a fancier Cutless Calias. Back then I didn’t even understand the E Bodies were based on a different premium platform.
However to modern me I find this car to look both futuristic and I dare say beautiful. I especially like the thin taillights, and that color really works well in a timeless way. It would stand out with presence and dignity despite it’s dainty size in today’s sea of blob shaped grey, silver or white blob shaped CUV’s, cars and oversized butt-ugly pickup trucks/SUV’s.i swear it’s not me being nostalgic hehe.
Kevin, it sounds like you and I agree – and the word “futuristic” also came to my mind both times I’ve seen one of these in 2025.
And you make an excellent point about how this car stands out even more amid all of the neutral-colored SUVs that heavily populate today’s roads. On the day of this business trip, this Toronado looked downright sporty.
I looked at these when they first became available and wasn’t shocked at all by the mass buyer desertion from these mini-me Toronados. When the original Toronado debuted, it was the only front-drive car made in America; FWD was also found on somewhat-exotic European cars like the Citroen DS and NSU Ro80. But by 1986, FWD was associated with cheap econoboxes like the Cavalier, Escort, or K-cars. Not only did the ’86 Toro look like a Cutlass Calais that sold for half the price, it was built like a cheaper car. The ’79-’85 Toronado was body-on-frame and powered by a longitudinal V8. Inside, it had a split bench seat and a flat floor. The ’86 was unibody with a transverse V6 just like a Chevy Citation or Ford Tempo, and had a less roomy interior with thin bucket seats and a central floor hump. It just looked and felt like a much cheaper car than it did a year earlier.
Great ideas expressed here. I do think that the Toronado and Troféo of this generation looked less like the Calais than the N-body Buick Somerset / Somerset Regal / Skylark looked like the Riviera.
To be honest, and though the 1979 – ’85 Toronado was a luxurious, substantial looking and seeming machine, part of what made the original Toronado stand out for me was that it was a large car (yes), but it was also exotic and sporty looking.
By ’79, the Toronado seemed like a “me too” premium personal luxury car next to the Riv and Eldo. The ’86 Toronado brought some of that tautness back to the aesthetic, and I liked it for that reason.
I would go so far to say that the sheer look had gone on far too long by 1985, and it was a look I never liked except on the ’76-79 Seville. I think out of context these look far better than the previous generation, but I also know that not many share my opinion.
It’s not a ‘bad looking’ car, using my retro eyes from today’s view. At the time I hated them, but I pretty much hated most new cars because they weren’t ‘cool cars’ from the 50’s & 60’s, (I was a teenager then).
I think the name is horrible. “Trofeo”. So, It’s a Trophy? (that you paid for?) Usually, you win Trophies.
Although, there was a time when I was 17-ish, we were partying on an old dirt road, and just off the side was a pile of junk someone had dumped. IN that pile, I found a Trophy for a “Beauty Contest”. Of course I kept it, but not sure whatever came of it. Point is, I didn’t win that trophy, I found it. But SOMEBODY had once won it.
While the Oldsmobile Toronado Trofeo isn’t a bad car, it’s hardly a Trophy.
“Troféo” is, in fact, “trophy” in both Spanish and Italian. I suppose that Olds could have continued the Caliente designation from the previous generation, but maybe in keeping with this car being a clean-sheet design, they went for something new.
I like your story about having found that beauty contest trophy. What you did sounds like something I also would have done. I would have cleaned it up, kept it, and might have even displayed it in some sort of ironic way as part of my living room decor.
By the time Olds started loosening its grip on Cutlass-everything and the other heritage names it was pretty much too late to save the patient; but it’s a valid “what if” if they’d gone all-in and simply named this clean-sheet car the Trofeo instead of reusing a “big car” name on this clearly smaller ride?
But more likely they’d have re-renamed it the “Cutlass Trofeo” within 18 months.
Thank goodness there was never a “Cutlass Firenza”, even if the final-year ’88 looked just like a mini-Cutlass Ciera up front.
I have a longstanding theory GM/Olds were flirting with the idea of renaming the entire division to Cutlass, as a gambit to make a clean break from “Your Father’s Oldsmobile” — a challenge with “Old” right there in the name, and that slogan just reinforcing the existing perception of Oldsmobile as a marque for established, staid, mature adults — hence their prepending Cutlass to nearly every model across the range for several years there.
Really, the problem was they got Olds and Buick market positioning exactly backwards in that era. Olds already had the aforementioned existing perception, and thus should have targeted the market for traditional American aspirational near-upscale luxury, comfort and amenities, while Buick had some residual perception as a “doctor’s car” at a time when actual doctors and other such well-educated professionals were increasingly preferring sporty imports (German marques in particular), and thus should have targeted that market — which they ultimately wound up doing by now anyway once Olds went, fittingly enough in this context, into retirement.
Interesting and rarely seen old car .
-Nate
I love the “Inedible” framing – perfect analogy here. The lead picture and your description of not realizing what you had captured until examining the photos later at home reminds me of the picture I took several years ago while fruitlessly pursuing a 1986 Buick Estate Wagon. “Bank of Hope” framed perfectly above the car, but unfortunately the picture was taken from so far away that the picture ended up too grainy to use. Would’ve made for a good article.
Thanks, Eric. And I know that frustration! Believe me. That was still a great find. These will always remind me of Elisabeth Shue’s turn in “Adventures In Babysitting”. She should have won some sort of award for the dance scene in the beginning of that great ’80s flick.
Also, in looking at your pictures, I spotted one other rarity. Looks like the driver has clothes hanging from a laundry bar that’s spread between the rear seat grab handles. Just a week or two ago, I came across an ad for one of these bars while perusing an old magazine, and thought that it’s something that’s not seen much any more. Probably a combination of people dressing much more casually, and also even if they are used, it’s tough to see them inside something like an SUV.
Wow! I hadn’t even noticed that. I was probably trying not to call too much attention to myself after snapping my pictures.
This laundry bar thing would make sense since we were in Nebraska and this car had Wyoming plates.
I was going to point that out as I noticed it when I read this piece earlier this morning. You truly don’t see those clothes bars in many cars nowadays and I’ve always associated them with business travelers…particularly traveling sales folks who need to carry multiple changes of clothing on a trip and they don’t want to fold the clothes.
But in this case, I felt that anyone who traveled with a back-seat clothes hanger bar is probably not the kind of person who’d get all freaked out at Joe pointing a camera at their car.
I do sometimes worry about that. There seem to be so many nuts behind the wheel nowadays that I suppose that prudence is warranted. Then again, most of the road ragers that I see nearly daily are too busy driving 40 miles over the limit and weaving back and forth between lanes. That, and the fact that they’re generally driving vehicles that offer a seating position close to the height of the roof of my car, means that the chance that they even see me (and perhaps my camera) is slim.
Jeff, I feel what you said about a little extra vigilance when it comes to taking pictures of people’s vehicles when they’re occupied. It’s sometimes a fine line between taking a chance to get a great shot (none of the pictures used for this post would qualify for that honor) and maybe sensing it’s better to let the chance pass.
I feel like I have developed instincts that have served me well in that regard. In any case, it’s not going to stop me from doing what I love to do.
I had one of those for a few years. Can’t remember why now..
You and Eric framing a car with a seemingly appropriate sign reminds me of a picture I took long ago…a ’78 Eldorado facing west sitting beneath a Weight Watchers sign with an arrow point the same direction as the Cadillac. It’s posted somewhere here. Some things are so fitting.
Years ago I had stomach surgery, prompting me to go on a baby food diet for weeks, although I did lose 50 lbs in about a month. Anyway, toward the end of my recovery was St. Patrick’s Day. Mrs. Jason had made some awesome smelling corned beef and cabbage. I could not eat it, and she knew that. Sweet woman she is, she did not want me to miss partaking of it, so a heaping helping (for my then abilities) went into the blender and came out very pureed.
It tasted just like corned beef and cabbage, perhaps even more vibrant due the better allowance of flavor mixing. But it was just not right. It was still the same thing but the presentation was not as appetizing, which helped it lose the plot.
That’s the plight of this Toronado. Dictated my circumstances, perhaps more enjoyable, but the plot somehow left the building. Sad, really.
I love that Mrs. Jason put St. Patrick’s Day dinner *in a blender* for you. That was my absolute favorite. The last sentence of your penultimate paragraph probably sums up what many Oldsmobile faithful were thinking when this Toronado came out.
Am I the only one who thinks that Oldsmobile did this E-Body generation better than Buick or Cadillac? The styling and stance are simply more suitable for the size and demeanor of the car, IMO.
I agree. This generation Toronado looks better than its siblings, the concurrent Eldorado and Riviera. I understand why these cars were a failure. I will always think the 1979-1985 generation of them were almost perfect. Oldsmobile was smart in giving this generation an air of sportiness. The Riviera and Eldorado just didn’t look like true luxury cars, and the Cadillac especially failed miserably. I did get to ride in one of these Rivieras back in the mid 1990s, and putting aside its looks, it did ride well. On a side note, I miss Olds.
I agree, I think this was the best looking of the new downsized E bodies. In the late 80s and early 90s Olds had this “hi tech” image going on, and this had the look. The mid luxury of Buick but with an edge. It’s been awhile but in the 2000s and early 2010s I used to see these fairly often in the wild. Almost always the Trofeo vs the base Toro, and almost always maroon. I also like how the slatted grille/headlight doors echo the nose of the 66 Toro.
Troy, I think you’re right that at some point the Troféo had overtaken the regular Toronado in sales. It would make sense then that most of these in the wild would statistically be the Troféo.
I also agree, Aaron. The Riviera looked too much like a Somerset, and the Eldorado looked too stubby before the next year’s taillamps and fin augmentation.
I think part of what made the Toronado’s look more successful than its E-body stablemates was that it was more far removed aesthetically from what it had replaced.
Your restaurant analogy makes me think of the recent Cracker Barrel mess. Oldsmobile (even the Toro) of the 80s was the Cracker Barrel of the car industry. Solid cars for Solid citizens, but nothing too fancy. They had a good thing going but wrecked it.
JP, you have me wishing I could find a picture of a third-generation Toronado in front of a Cracker Barrel, because now that you mention it, I’m sure that combination was not uncommon here in the Midwest!
The Cracker Barrel analogy goes further in that “solid cars for solid citizens, nothing too fancy” worked until it didn’t and by then they were too associated with that to adapt to their environment. Just like Cracker Barrel, at a certain point there’s just not enough people clinging to the past to allow you to cater to them and everybody wanting something different will get it elsewhere. I think there’s more dignity in going down with the ship than trying to reinvent yourself in your twilight, but maybe I’m wrong and there are examples of brands (of anything, really) escaping their past to become relevant but I’ll admit I can’t think of any at the moment.
To borrow a movie line but “That’s not a Toronado, this is a Toronado.” Below is distinctive while the above is pure mundane.
I will say that while the newer car lacks some of the sculpted artistry of the ’66 (and let’s be clear – cars of the ’60s were just beautiful and more “grand” in general), I’d say the ’87 Toronado has a visual feel more in kinship with the ’66 than, say, the broughamy ’85 or the showboat ’77.
I think the final 1990 – ’92 Toronado and Troféo had finally nailed a look that was closer to the original… by the time no one was buying cars like these anymore.
Does anyone know why we needed to be warned not to eat the contents of the truck, or maybe the truck itself?
This is Nebraska…it’s where commodities come from 🙂 This truck is likely carrying some type of oil or syrup derived from plant (or maybe animal) products that haven’t gone through the type of inspection that would be required of similar products that HAVE been inspected for human consumption. I recall seeing similar markings on railroad tank cars carrying various types of corn syrups and plant oils. They mark the containers that way to show compliance with regulations and also (although I’m sure to a much lesser extent) to insure that someone doesn’t mix them up with the stuff that is for human consumption.
Then again, maybe it’s a situation like we have with silica gel, which I am constantly being warned not to eat. But really…just a little taste wouldn’t hurt. Right? 😉
Jeff, I’m glad you explained this, because I was going to have to look it up. I did blow up the one decent photo that showed the side of the tanker and couldn’t find any clues as to what was inside.
Could be what was inside didn’t matter so much as that the tanker was used to haul a variety of liquids, some not fit for human (or any) consumption as food, so anything consumable it did happen to carry would be classed as “inedible” to humans due to cross-contamination (animal feed, however, they’re not so picky about).
This makes sense to me.
I design equipment for the bulk material handling industry, and I agree with this. Also the leniency with animal feed. Typically human food grade equipment is built to a much higher standard, including 100% of seams welded crack and crevice free. The note would help prevent cross contamination, and use of a vessel that was not (or no longer is) food grade standard. Also help prevent trouble with a random inspector thinking it is food grade.
I remember one job I did where it was supposed to be food grade until the customer saw the cost. Hopefully they decided to load something less critical, but who knows.
I would say it is hauling a liquid, as it says to open the hatch to vent while unloading. Fine powders can be carried this way too, but you would keep the hatch closed to pressurize the vessel to unload it.
I think this may be one of those cars that looks better decades later than it did at the time. And one that looks better when it’s not surrounded by a sea of lookalike two-doors in other sizes and from other GM divisions.
I’ll admit I’m not American, but to my eyes there was nothing particularly prestigious about these at the time. It was all too obviously a GM design, as we had seen similar styling before on other GM cars. I’d argue that a famed heritage name and market slot alone does not make a prestige car; there must be an inherent quailty of excellence in the current product. From what la673 says above, Olds seemed to have missed that with this generation.
While there’s some very nice detailing, overall it looks too much like other GM cars without such pretensions of grandeur. ¡Sin trofeo!
Peter, I think you hit it – the perspective of time has been kind to these, though I’ll reiterate that I liked them when they came out.
Now that every other GM vehicle doesn’t have almost the exact same curves and shapes recycled and in different scales and permutations, it seems easier to revisit the overall aesthetic on its own merits. I think this Toronado (and the ’90 refresh) were some of the better efforts.
On the final 1990 – ’92 cars, and if I recall correctly from my 2021 essay on one https://www.curbsideclassic.com/curbside-classics-american/curbside-classic-1991-oldsmobile-toronado-lost-in-a-changing-landscape/ , I think it’s the electronics of the day that keep one of those from being a cost-effective candidate for a regular driver or restoration. I think that’s a shame, because, I think the final Toronado was beautiful without qualifiers.
I remember one of the magazines–Car and Driver, I think–posing the ’86 along with a ’66.
I coveted both. True enough, I was distressed by the Buick V6 instead of a proper engine, and the digital dash is an abomination. Otherwise, the car was gorgeous.
Thousands of years later, I managed to own two ’66 Toronado “parts cars”. I never did get an ’86 or other model-year of the ’86 style, and when the ass-end became bloated, it ruined the design and I lost all interest.
I may now have to look for that article online. It’s also nice to read of some others’ appreciation for these today.
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/vintage-reviews/1980s-vintage-reviews/gm-brands-1980s-vintage-reviews/vintage-c-d-review-1986-oldsmobile-toronado-a-downsized-e-body-and-the-beginning-of-oldsmobiles-downward-spiral/
It’s right here: https://www.curbsideclassic.com/vintage-reviews/1980s-vintage-reviews/gm-brands-1980s-vintage-reviews/vintage-c-d-review-1986-oldsmobile-toronado-a-downsized-e-body-and-the-beginning-of-oldsmobiles-downward-spiral/
Thanks, both.
I’ll admit to finding the Troféo attractive in a vacuum. I’m personally not adverse to the idea of formal and sporty styling elements coexisting, and despite the aversion many had about the proportions of these being ruined compared to the previous generation, I never liked any of those E-bodies in that they reminded me of something Cruella de Vil would drive (derogatory); these were a breath of fresh air in my estimation. Fresh until confronted with the reality that only a couple hundred bucks separated the Troféo from an Acura Legend coupe…
That price comparison with the Acura Legend coupe puts a lot into perspective. “Attractive in a vacuum” is a great description. On its own merits and without regard to what it had replaced or its alleged market position, it’s easier to appreciate this Toronado’s clean lines.
And now I’ll have to fight against the impulse to hear the “Cruella de Vil” song in my head throughout my work day.
Wow – that price comparison just blew my mind. To compare this to an Acura legend coupe of the same era, particularly in gold with gold tint would not make this thing look like a trophy. The homecoming king in my highschool graduating class drove a legend coupe in that color scheme, 1988. I had an ’88 Prelude Si coupe in yellow, 5 speed. Very different than what GM was peddling at the time.
I find it interesting that for many years the sportier Trofeo version of the Toronado, which had been introduced in the 1987 model year, continued to notably outsell the “normal” version—a strange state of affairs. Should Oldsmobile simply have swallowed its divisional pride and history, recognized it was a different era, and rebranded the entire model as the Trofeo?
In retrospect, absolutely. Doing this from the start might also have elininated a lot of baggage attached to the Broughamanado (which, admittedly, many still liked). At the same time, I could see how some might have rebelled at this approach. As relatively modern and sporty as this new Toronado was, it was something of an outlier from the rest of the Olds line.
Still, I think yours is a very interesting idea – one I like and agree with.
Poor little monkey…
Shockingly, this probably came up in therapy only a couple of times. I love (other) primates and every once in a while when I’m at the Lincoln Park Zoo, I will remember this meal. I just love animals in general.
It sounds like you might have been joking, but I’m totally serious! LOL. For those who are doubtful that this happened in that part of the world, it’s a Google search away.
Not joking. That would have been hard on me, too. I’m sorry, Joe.
I love the car and the color. My brother’s highschool friend whose dad was always wheeling and dealing cars had given said friend one of these circa 1995, Trofeo, same color but I believe his was an ’88. I got a ride to school in it once and I was thrilled. I distinctly remember wearing a Columbia jacket in matching colors. The replacemant for this was an early 90s GMC Jimmy whose original powerplant had been tossed for an 80s Corvette engine. What a letdown.
Great recollection shared, Ryan. That whole scenario described – ’88 Troféo, matching Columbia jacket – sounds so much of that time period. I could see the arrival to the mall in my head. Just awesome.
Not joking. That would have been hard on me, too. I’m sorry, Joe.