I’ve never been hyper-competitive, at least not outwardly. I usually tackle tasks and goals with the thought that as long as I have a somewhat clear picture of what needs to be accomplished and a basic idea of how I’d get there, I’ll set about doing the best I can without comparing myself to others. There’s a lot of truth behind the adage that comparison is the killer of joy. I can’t imagine winning a race by constantly turning my head left and right. I have also found that there’s wisdom in achieving something without first announcing those plans to the world. That kind of premature oversharing can be detrimental to the finished product. On the week of this writing, I had been awarded a prize at work for being the first in our center to successfully land a large account by execution of a new initiative. I won in part because I had just quietly done the thing.
Sometimes a process is slow and takes a lot of patience. I was driving from Chicago back to Flint for Memorial Day weekend a few weeks ago when I had spotted our featured car. I had heard it before I saw it. There was something so distinct and somehow comforting about the way this Troféo’s exhaust note sounded like it was gargling with rocks and antiseptic mouthwash while under acceleration. It normally takes me no more than half an hour to approach the Chicago Skyway Toll Bridge from my neighborhood of Edgewater on the north side. On this particular Friday, and even after having departed the local car rental agency at 4:00 PM after an early dismissal from work, it had taken me close to an hour and fifteen minutes just to leave the city.
Traffic on DuSable Lake Shore Drive moved glacially as I fiddled with the radio controls… and then there was that sound. There were lots of modern Buick V6-powered cars running around Flint when I was growing up in the ’80s. The temperature outside was a bit cool for this time of year, so my windows were down when I heard the sound of this Toronado Troféo’s transversely-mounted, 3.8 liter, 165-horsepower, Buick-sourced V6 engine through that distinct exhaust note. I had the feeling that I was about to be treated to something GM-tastic, but I had no idea what lay in store before this white coupe appeared in the lane next to mine. I suddenly felt like the proverbial tortoise in that particular fable by Aesop. My patience and neighborly road manners had yielded me a trophy in the form of this rare Oldsmobile. My jaw dropped.
A subsequent license plate search confirmed this example’s model year and the presence of its four-speed automatic transmission, as well as that it had originally been built in Hamtramck. These Toronados were never plentiful when new, and according to my Encyclopedia Of American Cars from the editors of Consumer Guide, a combined total of only about 16,500 units between both the base Toronado and upmarket Troféo were produced for ’88. Looking at this car within the context of that day’s traffic, I found it truly and unironically attractive. It sat lower than everything else, and its scoopy, glassy greenhouse and low beltline made it look much sportier than I had remembered these from new. The original, pre-facelifted styling with its shorter butt and original, linear wall-to-wall taillamps somehow just worked. I’ve read about how some take issue with the placement of the rear wheel relative to where the C-pillar meets the decklid, but to me, the shorter rear overhang looked to me like “the future” did at the time.
The Cadillac wheels work for me.
As traffic went from start to stop, over and over, I was afforded repeated glances at this car’s little styling flourishes. The upright rear backlight that had been applied to what seems like most GM passenger cars of that decade with very few exceptions didn’t look terrible on this car. A C-pillar that might have been even slightly “faster” might have taken the look downmarket on a personal luxury coupe that measured only 187 inches from bumper to bumper. I squinted when my rental Corolla would get close enough to this Troféo and felt like I could almost see the look that Irv Rybicki’s styling team was going for. A little taffy-pull in each direction would have done wonders for this car’s aesthetics. I will also say this about this generation of Toronado: it looks a lot less to my eyes like an N-Body Calais than the concurrent Riviera looks like the Somerset / Somerset Regal / Skylark compact.
I’ll go on record as saying that the previous, 1979 – ’85 generation of Toronado didn’t do a lot for me aesthetically. I don’t find it ugly, necessarily, but its sheetmetal had neither the curvy, Rolls Royce-esque class of the Buick Riviera or the decisively razor-edged simplicity of the Cadillac Eldorado. This next thing might have been because one of my father’s former university students had owned one of those Toronados of the mid-’80s, but that one was diesel-powered and I had formed a mental association of them being dirty, slow, and stinky. The downsized ’86 models, though sales had plummeted to just 15,900 units from 42,200 the year before, seemed like a solid win to me in the looks department. The hidden headlamps, full-width taillamps, and elegant simplicity in its aerodynamic surfaces seemed like a return to the sporty form of the first Toronados… albeit shrunken to three-quarters the size.
The Troféo package, introduced for ’87, was concocted with the intent of appealing to enthusiasts. Included were mildly tweaked exterior details (with front air-dam and smoke-effect rear taillamp lenses among them), standard Lear Siegler leather bucket seats, and a stiffer FE3 suspension aimed at sportier handling. The fourth-generation Olds E-body was the first not to feature V8 power, but with 550 fewer pounds than the design it had replaced and the same horsepower rating (140) between the 1985’s Olds 307 and the ’86 3800 V6, performance and fuel economy simply had to be better in the newer car.
Eighteen inches was a lot of prestigious length to lose for ’86 on a car that cost over 15% more than its significantly more substantial predecessor. Ask yourself this, though: How many owners of personal luxury cars do you think regularly carried passengers in the back seat? I don’t see this generation of Toronado / Troféo as being a traditional personal luxury car so much as an upmarket, efficient, attractive showcase for GM’s latest technology and skill at efficient packaging. The outgoing ’85 Toronado clearly looks like a luxury car, and not a bad-looking one at that. Maybe it’s the adolescent age I was when the ’86 came out, but it works for me in a way the ’85 doesn’t, tiny though it is by comparison.
The base price of redesigned ’86 Toronado was $19,400 versus $16,800 the year before, which was a significant increase in price for such a physically smaller car. Our ’88 Troféo started at just shy of $22,700 (almost $61,400 in 2025). Just for a pricing comparison with other luxury coupes from ’88, the most expensive Mercury Cougar (the XR-7) started at $16,266, the Lincoln Mark VII cost $25,000, and just to throw Chrysler into the mix, a new LeBaron Premium convertible started at just over $18,000. The era of the personal luxury coupe had already started to wind down by the late 1980s, but between the different makes represented by the Detroit Three, there were still many options to be had.
My biggest concerns on the Friday of this road trip to Michigan were probably: a.) not hitting a deer on the way to my friends’ house; and b.) staying fully awake and alert after an early morning rise and almost a full day of work. As I had carefully piloted my rental car through stop-and-go traffic at a snail’s pace, trying to be mindful of other drivers and where they signaled they were trying to go, I had no idea I would “win” the sight of this rare Toronado Troféo (a word that means “trophy” in Spanish and Italian). This might have been just the extra excitement I needed as I kicked off that holiday weekend behind the wheel.
Chicago, Illinois.
Friday, May 23, 2025.
I had found this facelifted 1991 Toronado four years ago in the neighborhood just north of mine. The 1988 Toronado / Troféo brochure pages were sourced from www.oldcarbrochures.org.
I knew a guy who bought one of these new, a white one just like this. He traded in one of the big, square RWD Olds 98s, and he said he wanted something “a little sportier”. I remember laughing to myself at the time – the guy was an accountant in his 50s, and I thought “Only Bob would think to go to an Oldsmobile dealer for something sporty”.
How great for you to see this, AND see it in traffic conditions that allowed you to get a few shots off from your phone camera! I love that we are in the time of year when sightings of fun cars are on the upswing.
JP, it has been so great to see so many unusual classic, and noteworthy vehicles on the streets again since last month. I remember equating hidden headlamps with sporty on many vehicles – not the ’70s LTD-style hidden lights, but ones like in this Troféo. I could see someone in my current (gasp!) age group in the ’80s seeing one of these as semi-sporty and age-appropriate.
I spent a couple years living/working in Chicagoland – Morton Grove, actually. On weekends, I commuted “home” to Grand Rapids, MI. Nominally a 3 hour drive, on a holiday weekend, the Friday afternoon trip would come close to doubling that time. Icky memory.
Evan, kudos to you for having had that endurance. I just remember what a relief it was once I could get my rental Corolla up past 55 mph as I had finally broken free from the Chicagoland holiday traffic.
I recall these as being part of a generation of American cars in the 1980s that would periodically grace the pages and covers of the car magazines I read. The photos were usually accompanied by some degree of snark or aghast-ness in the copy about the American industry having kinda sorta gotten it right with regard to aping euro-sportiness to greater or lesser effect. That kind of competitive silliness probably accounted for my growing lack of interest in reading those magazines as I grew older. I much prefer reading about how any car can be appreciated for what it is.
I do think that the subject car is rather attractive for the time, although I’m not sure I would have ever considered it “luxury”. It is definitely a nice clean example of 40 year old (!!) car now.
Your description of sitting in stop and go traffic on an urban freeway for hours is very evocative of what it’s like to be sitting in that kind of traffic. I wish that I could come up with entertainment like Trofeo spotting when I’m in similar situations. In my fair city, that’s just about any time of day or night when one attempts to pierce the 20 mile perimeter around Boston. Usually, I’m just staring at the back end of some contractor’s truck/van.
Jeff, thanks for this. I remember looking through magazines around the late eighties, and maybe it was the tools I had at the time, but I had a hard time not taking some of the negative American car-talk personally. I had wanted to believe things were on the upswing, and when I’d read some damning article on a new car from GM, I’d almost invariably think about all of the effort that had gone into such a car. And being from Flint, I’m sure that’s part of what made such articles hit me harder.
This one seemed in exceptionally nice shape, even if it wasn’t pristine.
Point one: I really, really liked this car when it was new. Point two, I still like it and think the interior is excellent. Point three: I also recognise that it is unfixably badly proportioned. I roughtly adjusted the main elements to see what´s wrong. It´s the proportions. They make sense for a Citroen-esque advanced design car, not the kind of thing US customers were prepared for. If you put the styling onto RWD car and lower the roof it works.
You’re right. Fire up the Time Machine, go back to Lansing in about the autumn of 1985 and show them the picture. Just these tweaks would rescue a car that borders on deformed,
I appreciate your handiwork here, Richard! Just a stretch here and a tweak there moght have made the proportions appreciably better. When I was putting this article together, one fun fact I learned is that the concurrent J-body Chrysler LeBaron (which I still think is gorgeous) was only 3.2″ shorter than this Toronado Troféo from bumper-to-bumper. That car had no issues with proportions on a relatively shorter platform. The Toro should have looked just a bit better for the money.
This very, very rough doodle shows the Toronado wheelbase on a more swept back, aero type car (Citroenesque). Here the FWD and wheelbase conditions are unremarkable.
Perhaps this is what the GM J-body variant (the Firenza) might have looked like with a better divisional budget and more development?
One of my friends had – for years – sought out a ’91-92 Trofeo as a bucket list item. He was finally successful in buying one about 10 years ago. It was a beautiful, red, low-mileage example that was fully equipped with every possible option.
Sadly, the Trofeo’s complicated digital instrument cluster and “visual information center” proved to be the bane of the car’s existence. They both utilize now-obsolete 1980’s – 90’s technology that’s no longer supported by GM. My friend endured multiple failures of these electronic components. He reached out to independent specialists and spent thousands of dollars for what turned out to be temporary repairs.
In frustration, once he got everything on the dashboard (at least apparently) working, my friend sold the Trofeo to another collector – taking a significant loss in the process when the repair costs were accounted for.
This sounds like it had to be such a frustrating experience. To finally own and possess one’s dream car and then have the electronics go spectacularly haywire. How heartbreaking, because I still think the final, facelifted Toronado and Troféo are beautiful, interesting cars. The salt in the wound is that there if there’s no GM aftermarket support anymore for these thirty-plus year old cars.
Complicated electronics in ’80’s -’90’s cars are the bane of collectors. This early high tech stuff was problematic when new, and as your friend found out, they are unsupported and very difficult to keep working. I had a similar problem with my ’89 Jaguar XJS. The ABS system and body computer were going wonky. Individual repair parts for each were not available,and rebuilt units were also not available. This can leave the car undrivable. I think that this will result in fewer cars from this period being saved and preserved. Cars ftom before this period are much easier to repair and keep running. My old Plymouth is almost 80 years old, and doesn’t need anything complicated to keep it running, and of course I don’t have to worry about smog checks. Another hassle for old car hobbyists.
Jose, your comment and the one above makes me think that there’s going to be a big hole in the collector car market and hobby from a specific stretch of time, related to unfixable technology. And I think that’s a shame. And with all the tech from cars from a certain point on, I could see how collector cars might one day simply have a general cut-off year of …(?).
I’m not so pessimistic, in fact I think there’s a balanced level of electronic technology and relative simplicity that makes 90s cars extremely durable, but it’s very car dependent. This Olds would be pretty hopeless if it’s electronics bricked, but my cougar? Not so much, the computer just controls what it’s supposed to control(the engine) stereo is stereo, climate control is vacuum operated with some simple electric circuits, power windows are power windows, power locks are power locks, none of them are interconnected into a central body control module to communicate with each other and very basic electrical know how can troubleshoot and repair them. Worst case scenario is a PCM failure but for my car(and Fords and GMs and all the Japanese makes) that is exceptionally rare.
Modern cars(let’s say 2010-current) spook me more because of the aeformentioned networked systems, those I fear will be electronic nightmares 20-30 years from now unless someone comes up with a solution to essentially “jailbreak” the software that prevents mix and matching(as you tend to need to do to feel old cars working) without manufacturer level hardware.
There’s also the whole problem of modern cars needing privacy policies.
Thank you Joseph, for another fine article, for us to appreciate and enjoy! And congrats, on the office reward. And thanks for this, very rare find. The stylish wheels help, but it remains an eternally awkwardly-styled car. The wheels remind me of a jet engine fan. Kudos to this owner, for appreciating this gem of a find.
1988 was a huge year for Taylor Dayne. I probably would have been cruising around with a Duran Duran mixed tape back then. They were still hitting. lol
Thank you, Daniel. These were Cadillac wheels on this Troféo (which I would not have known unless traffic was so slow that I could see the logo), but I thought they looked nice on this car. Duran Duran’s “Big Thing” album and its singles will always remind me of high school!
Oh, Mr Rybicki needed, without cessation, not only to turn turn his head left and right but to move it up, and down, and backwards, too. Or he needed, alternatively, to move his head from his fundament, to straighten up, and to look around. Some competitive spirit is crucial to mere survival, if nothing else. This thing is competitive with nothing. Where it is not soporific, it is ill-thought: where not ill-thought, it is out of shape. Curved, dipping window line? Why, just the companion for the knifey front lines, and that neck-brace wearer’s rigid rear window. No face? Why, fear not, it has no arse either. That’s balance.
How there were 16,500 made, I know not, but it is that number too many. Why, if this was the trophy, I would not compete! Hell, it may even be a competent car – the specs of a big cast-iron lump crammed across the nose don’t bode so, but I don’t know – yet the external reality is a wodge of mobile amateur hour, rightly, barely able to sell even to its intended market. Not all of them were too vain of age not to wear glasses.
I salute its survival: 40 years is a lot. I salute your savoir faire in the stress of inching traffic, and I salute your philosophic musings about its role for you on that day. But I have to remain a conscientious objector about saluting a car so symbolic of the long, long winter of awfulness that so beset the American car.
Your prose is invariably entertaining.
I really like those wheels on it!
I suspect someone at GM Design had a Citroen fetish. The DS proportions were totally unsuitable given the GM customer base. But it coud have been worse, had they gone full Citroen with a narrowed rear track. And at that point, why not three wheels?
I’ve seen a 1992 Toronado around my neighborhood lately (driven by younger driver, so I assume its a new-to-him car), and seeing that car a few times has made me realize that I actually like the design. It’s low, sleek, and – from a modern standpoint – completely unique looking. When new, I intensely disliked them.
That said, I’m not completely there with these late-’80s Toronados. I’m one of those who dislike the C-pillar and trunklid area on these cars – however, from the front they’ve grown on me. Maybe in another 10 years I’ll be a fan of these. Still, I’d be very excited to see one of these in traffic! And the Cadillac wheels look like they were made for this car.