For 1975, Buick added a new model to its popular midsize Century/Regal line: the Century Special, advertised as a “new lightweight, gas-saving edition of the Century Hardtop Coupe” that was “specially engineered for lightness and economy.” But was it really? The factory specs say otherwise.
The 1975 Century Special is a curious entry in the lexicon of the 1973–1977 GM “Colonnade” intermediates. It had its own model code (4AE37), and contemporary price lists treated it as a separate model. However, Buick didn’t regard it as one; it was technically considered an equipment-delete option, so the factory didn’t separately track its production or sales, instead rolling it into the totals for the Century coupe (which were 39,556 for 1975).
Nonetheless, Buick promoted the Century Special fairly heavily in its 1975 advertising and brochures. The above ad ran in Sports Illustrated throughout March and April 1975, promoting a special tennis edition Century Special that included a pair of Head Arthur Ashe Competition I tennis rackets along with exterior stripes, Buick’s chrome-plate road wheels, and Custom seats.
I found a number of contemporary newspaper ads from different Buick dealers offering this same package — a Century Special with automatic, power brakes, AM radio, whitewall tires, bumper strips, door edge guards, protective moldings, and deluxe wheel covers — for the same discounted price, probably part of some regional sales incentive program. (The regular list price for a Century Special was $3,815.) So, Buick definitely wanted people to take notice of this new model.
What was the Century Special? The 1975 Buick brochure proclaimed:
It’s an economy version of the Century Hardtop Coupe. It features Buick’s new 3.8 liter V-6 engine. A High Energy Ignition System. A 3-speed manual transmission. And gas-saving GM-specification steel-belted radial tires. Another thing that makes the Century Special economical is its weight. It weighs less than the standard Century Hardtop Coupe. And as you know, the less a car weighs, the better its economy can be. For those of you who want basic, economical transportation, the Century Special is for you.
Collectors might perk up their ears at the prospect of special lightweight components, like the later 1976 Plymouth Feather Duster, which saved weight with an aluminum intake manifold and some aluminum exterior panels. Unfortunately, the Century Special was far less interesting. The newly revived V-6 engine and HEI system mentioned in the above passage were also standard on the regular Century. So was the 3-speed manual transmission (although only 710 ’75 Buick A-bodies had it, and it wasn’t certified for California sale). All Buick intermediates had radial tires too.
The Century Special lacked the protective rubber bumper inserts of the other Century and Regal models (although they were optional) and did without its line mates’ plusher cut-pile carpeting. The Special also got slightly smaller tires (FR78-15 rather than GR78-15) and a 14-inch space saver rather than a full-size spare. That was it — so much for special engineering.
When I first looked into this, I thought I must be missing something, so I contacted GM and asked for a copy of the Buick Century/Regal specifications that Buick submitted to the Motor Vehicle Manufacturers Association for 1975. (These were the official specifications used by trade publications like Automotive News and Automotive Industries.) The MVMA specs revealed that the Century Special WAS lighter than the regular Century V-6 coupe — but by only 14 lb! The base curb weight of the Century Special was 3,745 lb, compared to 3,759 lb for the Century V-6.
Buick proudly noted that the Century Special V-6 achieved 16 mpg city, 24 mpg highway on the early EPA mileage scale, but that was exactly the same as the regular Century V-6. Back then, the EPA treated cars with the same powertrain and the same “inertia weight” class as interchangeable for mileage purposes; for cars over 3,000 lb, the weight classes were split into 500 lb increments. The Century Special wasn’t enough lighter to push it into a lower class for testing purposes, and its 14 lb weight reduction made no difference in real-world gas mileage.
That wasn’t enough weight savings to help performance either. With automatic transmission, air conditioning, and a typical load of miscellaneous options, the Century Special weighed around 3,900 lb at the curb, and the 3.8-liter V-6 made a whopping 110 net horsepower. You couldn’t order a V-8 in the Century Special (which would have defeated the purpose), and with either transmission, you were limited to a 2.73 axle ratio, so you had to resign yourself to the slow lane in hopes of saving fuel.
Excepting promotional discounts, the Century Special wasn’t even that much cheaper than the regular Century V-6 coupe. As of March 25, 1975, the price difference was only $79, which could be easily erased by ordering a few exterior molding options. The white car pictured here also has a lengthy list of optional equipment, including automatic, power brakes, air conditioning, an AM/FM radio, a rear defroster, a remote outside mirror, a cloth notchback bench seat, body side moldings, wheel covers, and of course the green Landau top.
I don’t have a complete 1975 price list, but the original sticker price for this car would have been around $5,000, a relative worth of almost $36,000 in 2026 dollars. Not an outrageous price for the time, but nobody’s idea of an economy car.
You may be asking yourself, “Okay, so, if it wasn’t really cheaper and it wasn’t more economical, what was the point, exactly?” That’s a very good question. The Century Special was introduced barely six months after the end of the 1973–1974 oil embargo, which had caused a big spike in gasoline prices and made buyers very nervous about fuel economy. The idea of a midsize economy model that would keep you out of gas lines without forcing you to trade down to a compact or import probably sounded pretty good — not least to Buick dealers, who’d taken a beating during the embargo. Offering the Century Special also helped Buick call attention to the availability of the V-6 engine, which GM had just recently bought back from AMC, and Buick may have needed to use the Special nameplate on something to avoid losing their trademark.
Still, any way you slice it, this Century Special wasn’t all that special. Part of the problem was that the Colonnade cars’ standard equipment was still pretty miserly; about the only other standard item Buick could have deleted to save weight would have been the power steering. So, Buick went the cynical route, removing a few visible minor items to suggest that they done more under the skin than they actually had. This is the kind of thing that must give the people who administer truth-in-advertising laws fits: It wasn’t technically false advertising, but it was awfully disingenuous. The 1975 Century Special was a reasonably attractive car, and about one in four Buick A-body buyers found the V-6 powertrain adequate, but a specially engineered fuel-sipper this was definitely not.
Related Reading
Curbside Classic: 1973 Buick Century Regal – The Confident Colonnade? (by Perry Shoar)
Curbside Find: 1974 Buick Century – Colonnade Still Standing (by Jon Stephenson)
Curbside Classic: 1974 Buick Century Luxus Colonnade Coupe – It’s Impolite To Stare (by Joseph Dennis)
Cohort Outtake: 1975 Buick Century Free Spirit Indy 500 Pace Car Replica (by Paul N)
1975 Buick Century Regal: Rare Colonnade 4-Door Survivor (by Dave Skinner)
1976 Buick LeSabre V-6: Why Did Buick Build This Rare, Slow, Massively Underpowered Big Car? (by me)
Some neighbors bought one of these (I can’t recall if it was a 75, 76 or 77). I was pretty well steeped in Colonnades at the time and didn’t pay much attention, but eventually noticed that it had the faster roof that made it a not-Regal. It was only later that I noticed the “Special” nameplates, and figured out that it must have been the price leader. But theirs was pretty well equipped, with the road wheels and a vinyl roof. And in a navy blue with a white landau vinyl roof, it looked pretty nice too. It was a shame about that V6 engine, though. I occasionally got to drive a 77 LeSabre with the V6 and it was sloooooow.
That car stood up better than the neighborhood it was sold new in. All that’s left of the dealer showroom is a bare, concrete slab.
I was a line tech for a Buick dealer in the 80’s. There were still quite a few of these Colonnade cars still coming in. I never saw any of them with a manual transmission. The majority had a Buick 350 2V, but occasionally we would get a V-6 car in. I never understood the logic behind this car being offered with the V-6.
I had the chance to discus the V-6 vs V-8 with a customer one afternoon. His brother owned a V-6 car and his was the V-8. According to this gentleman, the V-8 actually got better fuel mileage than the V-6. I recall the difference was minor, but the torque difference was substantial.
I’m not sure about 1975, but I believe later in production that a 2:56:1 gear was available. Who could tolerate that V-6 with an auto trans and a 2.56 gear? Better than the 5.7L diesel, I guess.
I’ve owned and drove both, the diesel feels like over double the horse power due to the greater torque. The diesel does just fine in Cadillacs of that era, but if the V-6 were in one, I doubt that it would barely move. I currently drive several diesels original miles over 100-150 K still going strong with no issues, (correct maintenance and fuel/water separators), but I’d guess than most of the V-6 have long since blown up due to being over worked and the terrible lubrication system.
Correct. My dad got on a V-6 kick for our B body taxicabs. There simply wasn’t enough power for a two ton car. To go anywhere, you had to put the pedal to the metal. Doing so would cause the motor mounts to break. To top all that off, the V-6 cars were no better on fuel than the V-8.
I refused to drive a V-6 taxi. My last cab was a Caprice 9C1 with a 305 4 bbl, made specialty to order. It was easy to sell the cop 350, too.
According to the specs, the sole axle ratio for the 1975 Century V-6 was 2.73.
I wonder what the 0-60 time would be on a V6 Colonade Century? I remember Consumer Reports testing a ’77 Cutlass Supreme sedan with the Olds 260, and got 0-60 in something like 21.6 seconds. It was a comparison test where they put it up against an LTD-II 302, a Fury/Monaco 318, and either an Impala or Caprice 305. I haven’t read that test in over 30 years (I saw it in the library when I was in college), but I seem to recall the other three had 0-60 times around 13 seconds.
I imagine a 231 V6 might be a bit quicker than a 260 Colonade, but still horribly slow. In the downsized intermediates, it usually was quicker, although I think they also tended to stick the 260 with a taller axle. Usually a 2.29:1 or something like that, while the 231 was often a marginally quicker 2.41:1
I had a ’76 Omega with the 260-5 speed . While no rocket, I’m pretty sure it got to 60 in less than 21 seconds.
With tests by non-enthusiast-type publications, it’s often necessary to look at them in comparison to other cars tested by the same people. The buff book testers would work out what kinds of drag racing tricks would give the best launch, whether they got better times letting the automatic shift for itself or holding the gears manually, stuff like that. The consumer-oriented publications typically didn’t, and so their times tended to be much slower, even for what were sometimes the exact same test cars.
This is not to say that one or the other was WRONG — the consumer publication “Aunt Edna stomps the accelerator and hopes for the best” approach was probably more representative of real-world performance — but it can be tricky to compare them because it was sort of apples and oranges in terms of testing methodology.
Seems like questionable truth in advertising to shed 14 lbs of mostly trim and fit smaller tires, and extol “special’ engineering. But at least it retained “Buick ride & handling”, according to the dealer ad.
If I wanted a six-cylinder Colonnade, I’m sure I would have picked one with the good ol’ Chevy 250 I-6 rather than the lumpy, odd-fire Buick V-6. But I really wouldn’t want a six at all. My Colonnade Chevelle had a 350 with a THM 350 and 2.73 gears, and it was plenty slow enough.
That’s a _LOT_ of green but I still like it .
-Nate
The double-shuffle here with the purported efficiency gains and minimal actual engineering is surprising, even from mid-’70s GM. Chrysler brought receipts with Plymouth’s Feather Duster, showing exactly what was done and the end result, but there’s a curious lack of numbers in the case of this Special.
I still like it, though – especially that green brocade interior. The side stripes and landau too seem at odds with each other, though.
The interior of this particular car is actually in fairly rough shape: If you click through the MCE links to see the rest of the photos, the cloth insert on the driver’s side front seat is completely gone, and there’s something very weird going on with the inner door panels — the lower halves are light gray with a spattering of green, like someone got mismatched trim panels and tried to match the existing color with a mostly empty rattle-can. I don’t know if that’s the result of some kind of chemical aging process with the plastic panels or if it’s the result of some half-arsed DIY repair job.
Having the green Landau top to match the green interior was pretty in keeping with contemporary auto fashion, I think, but the yellow stripes with the green top ARE an odd combination, as if this car were some kind of rare 7Up special edition.
The door panels are typical mid-70s GM plastic degrading. The type of plastic on the lower level of the doors dries out and flakes off. My family always drove GM, and I remember that plastic as a kid 40 years ago flaking off under my finger nails. It would literally turn to plastic dust.
Thanks! I thought maybe it was something like that, but my seat time in these cars was limited and also a long time ago.
Only filling the gas tank to 3/4s would achieve a greater weight savings. Pathetic.
The close-up photos of this car show the extreme tuck-under of the lower body sides, characteristic of all of the Colannades as well as the full-size 1971-76 GM cars. No wonder the car features aftermarket mudguards, which offer only a modicum of protection.
I would wash my mom’s ’73 Chevy Monte Carlo in the summer when I was home from college. Those lower body sides took a beating from all the road grit thrown up from the tires.