New for 1963, the Buick Riviera offered a unique combination of style, speed, luxury, and glamour almost unrivaled among domestic cars of its era. What would it be like to buy a Riviera new in 1963? Which options and trim would you choose? Let’s take a closer look at the available selections.
In their presentation at the SAE International Conference and Exposition in January 1963, Buick engineers Phillip C. Bowser and Shirrell C. Richey came as close as GM yet had to acknowledging the popularity of the four-seat Ford Thunderbird. In the interests of propriety, Bowser and Richey didn’t call out the Thunderbird by name, but they described what they’d dubbed “New Concept” cars: “a relatively new market made up of luxury and sports imports and distinctive luxury sport domestic cars.” They even admitted that this new segment “was taking sales volume away from the upper and upper-medium price group,” and thus posed an actual commercial threat.
With the new Buick Riviera, GM finally had a real competitor for that emerging segment. The Riviera was by no means a Thunderbird copy — GM Styling VP Bill Mitchell would have committed ritual suicide in the middle of Detroit’s Cobo Hall before allowing any such thing — but it was certainly a Thunderbird-fighter, and the way Buick had approached it demonstrated that they had a reasonable grasp of why people liked the T-Bird. Bowser and Richey explained:
There are several types of cars which we currently class in the new concept group. One car sells because it looks sporty; another, because it feels sporty in performance and handling, and still another, because there are very few available. But in each case the buyer is paying for distinction. Distinction is the big common denominator of the new concept group — DISTINCTION of one type or another, but always distinction.
The new Riviera had plenty of distinction, but unlike the Thunderbird, Buick also made it a pretty fair driver’s car, with excellent performance and above-average road manners as well as comfort, luxury, and crisp styling.
Who were the intended buyers of these cars? Bowser and Richey again:
Mr. New Concept Buyer is relatively young, and has a higher than average appreciation for youthful and spirited cars. He has a substantially higher than average income and can afford to enjoy many more luxuries than most young people.
Most new concept buyers are either unmarried or have no children at home. This combined with their high income allows them a high descretionary [sic] spending capacity with which to indulge themselves with luxury items. They generally own more than one automobile. When you consider a high percentage are unmarried, it follows that most of them who are married are multiple car families. The important point here is — the new concept car is not a family car — it is more a personal car.
Although our new concept buyers are well-educated and intelligent, they are motivated to buy more by impulse than by logic in many cases.
So, let’s suppose that it’s the spring of 1963 and you are one of these “New Concept” buyers. You and your spouse have no children, but you do have a healthy household income well into the five-figure realm — not quite 2TFNK (2 trust funds, no kids), but affluent enough that you’re not likely to sweat the payments on most anything that strikes your fancy. You could get a Coupe de Ville, but either you already have one or you think it’s a tad too common. Some of your friends have Thunderbirds, but you’ve been seeing ads for the new Riviera, like the one above from Sports Illustrated, and you’re smitten.
With almost 3,000 Buick franchises in the U.S., finding a dealer is no great problem, which is a plus; you might be able to afford a Jaguar E-type or Mercedes-Benz 220SE, but you’re a little leery of the prospect of a breakdown in the middle of nowhere. The Riviera is new and distinctive, but it’s not too exotic. Most of the running gear is tried-and-true Buick hardware, so service should be no problem.
Buick offers 16 color choices for 1963 (including Regal Black, not included in the above samples). I’m not going to try to find examples of the 1963 Riviera in each of these colors, so you’ll have to use your imagination.
However, this Silver Cloud (code D) isn’t a bad choice. The Riviera has lots of interesting creases and curves, and silver shows them off better than some of the darker colors. It also offers almost as much flexibility in interior color choices as white or black.
Like the Thunderbird, the Riviera has standard bucket seats and center console with a choice of vinyl, cloth, or leather seat inserts. Which you choose comes down in part to what interior color scheme you prefer. The only color available with all three upholstery choices is blue. If you want white, red, or Saddle, you have to order leather, but that’s off the table if you want Sandalwood; silver is available in leather or vinyl, while black is available only in leather or cloth. The following table shows the available combinations with their respective trim codes.
| Interior Color | Standard All-Vinyl | Custom Cloth-and-Vinyl | Custom Leather-and-Vinyl |
|---|---|---|---|
| Blue | 716 | 717 | 718 |
| Red | N/A | N/A | 778 |
| White | N/A | N/A | 748 |
| Black | N/A | 787 | 788 |
| Saddle | N/A | N/A | 798 |
| Sandalwood | 736 | 737 | N/A |
| Silver | 726 | N/A | 728 |
(“N/A” means that combination isn’t available.)
The three all-vinyl interior combinations have slightly less-fancy door trim with smaller armrests. The optional power window switches are also mounted vertically and rather low, which is a bit awkward.
Ordering cloth or leather requires one of the Custom interior trim options, listing for $69.88 with Baronet cloth inserts …
… or $188.13 with leather inserts.
Either Custom trim option includes fancier door and rear quarter panel trim with walnut veneers and longer armrests providing space for the optional power window and power seat controls.
Along with their fancier door trim, the Custom interiors include a second latch towards the trailing edge of the door, allowing rear seat passengers to open the doors without waiting for permission. If you had kids, this might not be a great feature, but if you’re expecting most back seat passengers to be adult friends or clients, it’s a classy touch.
Buick still charges $19.03 for front seatbelts this year, but a growing number of states now require them on new cars, and by 1964, they’ll become delete options on most GM cars.
A 1963 Riviera has a base price of $4,333 (equivalent to about $56,600 to those of us in 2026), but there’s no car so expensive that Detroit can’t find a way to jack up the price a little more. The Riviera is equipped roughly like an Electra 225, so power steering, power brakes, and automatic transmission are standard, and you don’t have to haggle over features like backup lights or windshield washers. You even get a trip odometer and a speed warning buzzer.
Unlike the Thunderbird, the Riviera’s standard equipment does not include a radio, all the better to tempt you into the more expensive sets. There are five choices for 1963: a Sonomatic pushbutton radio, with or without power antenna; the signal-seeking Wonder Bar AM radio, with or without power antenna, or the new AM/FM radio with power antenna. The Silver Cloud car has an aftermarket Custom AutoSound tuner in place of the original radio, so the Wonder Bar radio pictured above is from a different Arctic White car. It listed for $152.92. The three knobs below the central vent are for the lights, the optional rear defroster ($21.50), and the windshield wipers.
Above the radio are sliding levers for the heater, courtesy lights, power antenna, and air conditioning. This arrangement, shared with 1963 full-size Buicks, is perhaps not the most ergonomic, but it is cool, and it taps the same Walter Mitty airline captain vibe as the Thunderbird.
The Silver Cloud car is moderately well-equipped for a Riviera: In addition to Custom trim with leather, it has air conditioning ($430), a tilt wheel ($43.00), a four-way power driver’s seat ($70.95), power windows ($107.50), and a remote outside mirror ($11.88).
However, there are plenty of other toys on the options list, including vacuum-electric Electro-Cruise Control ($64.50). (The white arrow with the yellow pointer on the speedometer is the indicator for the standard speed warning buzzer.)
Power ventiplanes are optional ($53.75) to go with the power window regulators.
You can also automate the headlights with the Guide-Matic headlight dimmer ($43.00) and Twilight Sentinel ($29.03). Cornering lamps that come on with the turn signals are an extra $30.10.
There’s also an optional remote trunk release ($9.68), located in the lockable glove box. Most of these features are also available on other full-size Buick models.
The Arctic White car even has a tachometer in the console ahead of the shifter. (I don’t have an original list price for that option, but I’m guessing between $45 and $50.)
There aren’t a lot of instruments on the instrument panel, which is also borrowed from the regular full-size Buick line — a fuel gauge, a clock, and a bank of warning lights cover the secondary functions — but you do get a 140 mph speedometer. The Riviera isn’t quite that fast, but it IS fast enough to peg the 120 mph speedometer supplied on other full-size Buicks.
With its console and separate rear seats, the Riviera is strictly a 4-seater; anyone you jammed in the middle of the rear compartment would not be happy about it.
A sure sign that Buick expects back-seaters to be adults is the fact that the Riviera includes not only three rear ashtrays, but also a rear cigarette lighter in the center console — all standard equipment.
Powertrain choices on the 1963 Riviera are few. The sole transmission is Buick’s torque converter Turbine Drive, which isn’t as crisp or snappy as a Chrysler TorqueFlite, but is much smoother. A 3.23 axle is the only rear end ratio offered, although a positive traction differential is available for an extra $48.38. (The magazine ad shown earlier describes a 3.42 axle, but both the initial and revised AMA specifications list only the 3.23, so the ad copy reference may have been an editorial glitch.)
Buick had made noises early on about standardizing its new 425 cid engine on the Riviera, but production delays pushed the big engine’s introduction to about two and a half months after launch, and so most 1963 Rivieras have the familiar 401 cid Wildcat 445. Dual exhausts, positive crankcase ventilation, and a Delcotron alternator are standard.
By now, the 425 cid Wildcat 460 has finally become available, at an extra cost of $48.38. It also includes Delcotron, a PCV valve, and dual exhausts. The price premium isn’t bad, but the Riviera is plenty quick with the standard engine — Buick claims 0 to 60 in a brisk 8.5 seconds, which the car magazines say is conservative by about a half-second. Also, with a 20-gallon fuel tank, feeding 24 extra cubic inches is likely to cut further into your driving range. (As things turn out, only 6.5 percent of 1963 Rivieras will be built with the bigger engine.)
Buick doesn’t yet offer any styled wheels in 1963. The Riviera comes standard with Deluxe wheel covers (with a unique silver Tri-Shield motif not shared with other 1963 Buicks).
Fancier aluminum Super Deluxe wheel covers with simulated knockoff hubs are optional for $66.65. (Whitewalls are $39.56 extra.)
Wire wheel covers, at $80.63, are a more popular option. A cautious buyer might also want to spring for the optional oversize wheel-and-tire package: The Riviera uses a new type of tire with a wider-than-usual tread for better cornering grip, but the load rating of the standard 7.10-15 size is pretty marginal for a car that weighs 4,300 lb with air conditioning and typical options. The oversize tires, 7.60-15 on 6.0-inch rims, are $59.99 with whitewalls, but they provide an extra safety margin.
Somewhere on the order form is a heavy-duty suspension option, for a mere $5.38. The standard Riviera suspension is really pretty soft — its above-average handling is due largely to its lower center of gravity, plus the special tires and some mild tweaks to the suspension geometry — and the heavy-duty option is probably intended mainly for the handful of cars being exported overseas. There’s also a separate heavy-duty rear spring option for $3.87, aimed at people intending to tow trailers.
How many of these extras do you really need? If you fancy yourself financially savvy, you might do a little homework and find that the only options that would get you any of the initial cost back whenever you get bored with your new toy and decide to trade it on something else are the Custom interior, air conditioning, power windows, and radio. If you want air conditioning, you probably want tinted windows to go with it, and while there’s no allowance on the power seat and tilt wheel, they might be the best way to get a good driving position.
Ordering the priciest of all the non-conflicting options would take the sticker price to just about an even $6,000 (about $78,300 in 2025 dollars), almost as much as a decently equipped Coupe de Ville. Skipping Electro-Cruise Control, power vent windows, and all the headlight control gadgets (you can tell yourself you’re not yet so rich that you need someone to turn on the headlights for you) would hold the list price down to maybe $5,300 (around $69,000 in 2025), which is probably about the MSRP of the Silver Cloud Riviera pictured above. Either way, you should be able to negotiate a healthy discount off the sticker price, especially if you’re prepared to pay cash. After an initial rush, Riviera sales have slowed a bit, and dealers are no longer paying over normal wholesale to get them.
All these calculations will get you arguably the handsomest car currently made in the U.S. — one you can park next to a Thunderbird, a Cadillac, or a Mercedes-Benz 220SE without it seeming out of place or looking like a knockoff of anything. The snooty classic car people keep insisting that no postwar mass-produced junk will ever be as special or desirable as the prewar capital-C Classics, but who knows? You have a feeling these Rivieras might be worth something someday.
Related Reading
Curbside Classic: 1963 Buick Riviera – Hitting All The Right Notes (by Jon Stephenson)
Vintage Motor Trend Road Test: 1963 Buick Riviera – Hot Rod Nailhead Buick (by Paul N)
Vintage AMS Review: 1963 Buick Riviera – “It Can Be Driven Faster Than Its Wheelcovers Can Handle” (by me)
1963 Buick Riviera: All The Maintenance The Factory Recommended (And My Modern Maintenance Schedule) (by Aaron65)
I didn’t know Rivieras with vinyl seats also got cheaped-out door panels. I’d probably go with the cloth-and-vinyl, but it depends on how soft and comfortable the cloth is; I’d get leather if the cloth was scratchy. I like my cars well equipped so I’d spring for most of the options, though I’m fine with the smaller engine. But knowing what I do now, I’d wait until 1965 to buy my Riv so it has the hidden headlights it was designed for, along with smoother rear fenders without the scoops and chrome trim.
I found those rear passenger door handles curious as a kid and even more so now. Who would open the door before the occupant in the front seat. It would seem a bit rude. And one can’t get out anyway until the front occupant is out anyway. There’s a good reason it didn’t catch on; it feels like a gimmick.
I’m thinking they would be handy if there was nobody in the front seat. As in “I wasn’t planning to use the restroom when Uncle Bob and Aunt Mildred got out of the car, but maybe I will after all.” Probably not a common occurrence, but I remember the awkward motions required to exit a rear seat when the front seat was vacant.
As a kid, the Riviera seemed very exotic, from a different world of National Geographic or Life or New Yorker magazine ads. No one in our circle of family/friends/neighbors had a car anything like this (or a TBird for that matter, but the TBird had been around longer, so one would see older ones on the road and parked in ordinary neighborhoods). By contrast, the Mustang became so ubiquitous so quickly, it never seemed to have any cachet. The 1965 cleaned up Riviera design was really nice.
Bill Mitchell’s finest. IMHO the initial 1963 version was the best of them all. When you start with perfection subsequent changes for changes sake just mars the product. Perfect from every angle. Must have been something in the drinking water over at the GM styling studio around this time as the split window Corvette was also making its appearance. Come to think of it, the entire GM line for 1963 was impressive. Hard to imagine Harley Earl achieving this.
The older I get, the more I like these. I was young enough when they were new that they got lost in a vast sea of attractive big 2-door hardtops from GM. I can now appreciate how these stand distinct from the others. A lovely car!
Perfect pairing for a DINK couple in 1963 would be one of these and the new Corvette.