Convertibles were hot again in the 1980s after having been sworn off by domestic manufacturers less than a decade earlier. For ’82, Chrysler fielded a K-platform LeBaron convertible in two different trim levels that would sticker for half again as much as their closed-roof, two-door counterparts. The open-air LeBarons, the first convertibles sold by Chrysler Corporation since ’71 (in the form of the E-Body Plymouth Barracuda and Dodge Challenger ponycars) would sell a very respectable 12,800 units in their first year out. Also in ’82, Dodge would move 5,500 related 400 convertibles, and Buick sold about 1,200 of its tony Riviera convertible, the first ever for that model. Eighty-three would bring the return of the soft-top Ford Mustang, as well as the introduction of the Pontiac 2000 LE (later called Sunbird) and Chevy Cavalier Type 10 convertibles. Oldsmobile, in the meantime, hadn’t had a convertible in showrooms since the full-sized ’75 Delta 88. All this was after the ’72 Cutlass Supreme was the most popular domestic convertible that year, with around 11,500 units sold.
Lansing justifiably wanted some of the action from the convertible’s reborn popularity. What to do? This car. Contract with Cincinnati, Ohio based coachbuilder Hess & Eisenhardt and have them convert two-door models of the front-wheel-drive Cutlass Ciera Brougham into convertibles between 1983 and ’86. This example was from the best sales year for the H&E Ciera convertibles, because there were just over 800 built over those four model years, with 600 of them being ’84s. I couldn’t find any original sales brochures online, but in the comments of one particular essay from 2013, one reader indicated that one of these might have cost about $20,000 new, which translates to over $55,000 in 2022. That was almost Corvette money, though I believe that few people if any were cross-shopping a Ciera convertible against a Corvette in the exclusivity sweepstakes. The ’84 Buick Riviera convertible cost just north of $25,000.
This example must be powered by the 3.0 liter V6 engine with 110 horsepower, because there’s simply no way the base, 2.5L four with 92 horses was going to be included with this luxurious asking price. A column-mounted, three-speed automatic transmission was standard on the ’84 Ciera, though a four-speed auto with overdrive was available. A lot of stiffening had to have gone into the body structure as part of the conversion process, though there’s shockingly little official information I could find about these cars online. Most examples I’ve seen pictures of were finished in either factory White or Dark Autumn Maple (the burgundy we see here). The few I’ve spotted in recent classified ads have also had very low asking prices for such a limited production model. That isn’t to say anything bad about these cars. For those who didn’t care for the basket-handle roofline of the reborn 1990 Cutlass Supreme convertible, try this Cutlass Ciera on for a completely unencumbered, open-air experience… if you can find one.
The thing I wondered about the most with this particular example, as is usually the case with an exclusive model with limited production, is how it got to the point at which I had photographed it almost a decade ago. When the aforementioned ’90 Cutlass Supreme convertible arrived as an official GM offering, was that the trade-in point for this Ciera? I hadn’t even noticed the custom mud flaps emblazoned with the period-specific Oldsmobile script before reexamining these photos more closely, years after having taken them. One of the prior owners also seemed to have gotten a discount on white adhesive cosmetic striping at the local Murray’s auto parts store. Liberal use of the stripes where the front header panel meets the front fenders is indelicate and the car would look probably 79% better with those stripes removed. With that said, the body was free of rust and dents. Could this car have been the transportation of one of the local Loyola University students who had inherited this car from a relative? I really hope it’s still on the road today.
The styling of this Cutlass Ciera convertible, with its contrasting-color top and the absence of the donor car’s thick B-pillar, is attractive. I can only wonder what a convertible based on the RWD, G-Body Cutlass Supreme of the same model year would have looked like, but one could base an aftermarket convertible on a much worse car than an Olds A-body of this generation. Eighty-four was the year that Cutlass Ciera sales really took off, with over 281,000 examples finding buyers. This was up sharply from ’83, where only 170,000 were sold; This number was likely affected by the continued popularity of the rear-drive Cutlass, of which Olds moved 294,500 copies in that same year. Still, this ’84 Ciera convertible, being one of 600 from a total of 22,700 Brougham coupes that year, was certainly a rare and welcome site when I spotted it close to ten years ago. It seemed to have both appeared and vanished from the streets in my neighborhood very quickly, as did the Hess & Eisenhardt convertible from Oldsmobile showrooms.
Edgewater, Chicago, Illinois.
August 2012.
Wow Joe – I had forgotten that these ever existed. You get a CC gold star for this find!
I was never a great fan of that Cutlass Ciera, but I really like this as a convertible. It is kind of amazing that Oldsmobile could not have found an outside builder able to handle more volume – someone like ASC. Had they been able to sell these at anywhere near the price of a LeBaron, these would have been hugely popular – for that segment, anyhow.
Count me as one who hated that 90s version, but I would have bought one of these as an older second car (had they been sold in any volume, anyway).
I did like the reborn Cutlass Supreme convertible with the basket-handle roofline, but I found myself putting my thumb over the roof hoop when imagining how much better it might have looked without it. Kind of like with the Triumph Stag.
These look so much more substantial than a LeBaron convertible, and probably didn’t give away too, too much in the way of economy for probably a lot more room inside.
The convertible top on this one looked like it was in good shape, which made me wonder how expensive it would be to replace it (probably more than the average college student could afford), and also how old this top was.
The Delta 88 convertible lasted through 1975.
They might have had better luck with a cheaper J car convertible like Chevy and Pontiac (I can’t remember the name it was so forgettable), but I guess they wanted a niche to themselves. Olds must have had many more than 600 dealers, so even the owners’ wives didn’t want to drive them.
An egregious error on my part. I had even written about a ’75 Delta convertible in 2015: https://www.curbsideclassic.com/blog/in-motion-outtake-1975-oldsmobile-delta-88-royale-convertible-delta-donk-whatre-those-wheels-you-have-on/
Thanks for the catch.
As for the J-body Firenza, Olds seemed to have enough trouble selling any of the four body styles of the closed-roof models, though you pose an interesting idea, especially given the Ciera convertible’s steep asking price.
From what I understand H&E did A-body convertibles from all four divisions, but the Olds seems to have been the best seller (in strictly relative terms), probably because they were the only division with neither a J- nor an E-body convertible.
That leads to the question of price, just how much of a premium was the H&E over a tintop Cutlass with a sunroof, or a comparably equipped Cavalier/Sunbird ragtop? How much under a Riviera ragtop did it come?
In retrospect it would’ve made more sense to convert the G-body Cutlass Supreme, which was still the franchise, and body-on-frame to boot, but at the time it had the sword of cancellation over it with every model year claimed to be its’ last for at least 5 years.
Wow… before I had read your comment, I had assumed only the Buick Century and Olds Cutlass Ciera got the convertible treatment from H&E. You’re absolutely right. There were Chevy Celebrity and Pontiac 6000 versions. To me, the Olds looks the most natural as a convertible. The Celebrity soft top looks a lot like a big Cavalier. I’d be curious to know what the all-up totals for all four divisions were.
The G-body Cutlass Supreme coupe would seem to be an easier conversion to a convertible too, given that it already had frameless door glass, as well as being BOF. It always seemed complex to me to turn a “post” coupe with framed glass into a convertible.
Incidentally, if the weird annual renaming of Pontiac’s J2000 –> 2000 –> 2000 Sunbird –> Sunbird wasn’t already strange enough, note that the 1983 convertibles, which appeared partway through the model year, jumped the gun in being called 2000 Sunbird. Get it? It’s a convertible and thus a 2000 Sunbird, although all the other body styles in 1983 were just called 2000. Not until 1984 was every Pontiac J body called a 2000 Sunbird.
Sure never knew about these!
These early-mid ’80s convertible conversions all suffered from an awkwardly large C pillar when the roof was up and this Ciera is no exception. My parents’ next-door neighbor had one of these around 1985 or so and I remember thinking the car looked quite nice with the top down but just so odd when it was up. They certainly used the car for its intended purpose and drove around all summer with the top down, soaking up the sun, but then, they were originally from Canada and seemed to revel in the heat and humidity of Atlanta.
That said, the Ciera was in many ways an ideal size for a convertible, large enough to haul 4 passengers in reasonable comfort, but small enough so that any semblance of a sporty pretense wasn’t completely out of place.
I agree – the C-pillar on the convertible looks a bit thick. But, then I think about the ’82 LeBaron convertible that lacked rear quarter windows, and suddenly this H&E Ciera looks very appealing.
Without looking at dimensions of both cars, from appearances, this looks to me to be about the same size as a J-body LeBaron convertible, and those did well in the market.
Quite the find. And nearly lost to the sands of history too.
It was so hard for me to believe these pictures were almost ten years old. I remember seeing this car around the neighborhood like it was only a couple of years ago.
This is off-point, but I opened the computer before one of the utterly-uninterested-in-cars kids here to have him help me with my computer – good god, this one’s 19, he’s no kid, but anyway – and on glancing at this pic, he said words to the effect of “What on earth is THAT? It looks all sort of messy and folded-up, that’s nasty!”
This comments’s off-point, because I know, Joe, that you found an utter rarity (and I love the B&W pic of it btw), but the kid’s spontaneous comment gives a fascinatingly-uninterested insight as to how US cars over a too-long period were perceived outside of that country. Namely, messy, harsh-to-the-eyes, and vaguely ridiculous. Truthfully, it looks to the external eye to be any generic US car from a long period of time, frankly, most of which looked no better than this mess (to me, the outsider, of course).
I know great volumes have been written here and elsewhere about malaise, but this happenstance with the kid – one, btw, who’s got serious art skills – was just a striking thing to occur in response to this post. I wonder if US readers quite get the way in which this long, long era of execrable design has been perceived outside that country, even, perhaps, until today.
🤣🤣🤣 This made me laugh. I like the repair guy’s knee-jerk reaction. One can’t beat honesty like that.
For the record, I never get offended if someone dislikes a car I like. Just wait for next Tuesday’s essay.
I’m intrigued as to what next week may bring up, then. Perhaps, if it’s that bad, the bringing-up might be literal.
For clarity, the 19 y.o. kid referred to wasn’t a repair guy, but was instead Jim, one of a number of step-kids who decided to irremovably stick themselves to me and live here after I (amicably) split with their mum about four years ago. (Mum’s a really good soul, but much dented by a difficult life with the kid’s violent dad). You’ve doubtless heard of relationships that cause sexually transmitted debt – these kids are sexually transmitted dependents, and hell, I didn’t even have the sex that made ’em! I’m sure they’ll leave me in peace one day, though there seems to be no sign of a rush to do that.
I tell you this because I think it makes Jim’s comment all the sharper: he’s a polite, arty kid who knows zero about cars, other than that I clearly love them, so to make that comment at first glance means it’s an unfiltered opinion. And by that, I mean that he wasn’t to know if I like or dislike this particular vehicle when he spoke. It was entirely spontaneous. And, to me, a bit amusing, since it’s a comment on a certain era of US car aesthetics from the entire ‘nother time and era of 2022, but one which happened to coincide with my view of the same.
This is also off-topic, but I think your outlook is so admirable. Romantic relationships are naturally challenging, and reading about how you’ve maintained good contact with your ex’s kids / your former step-kids is such a positive story.
I’ll also observe that you and Jim appear to share the same unfiltered honesty. Adulthood seems to bring about layers upon layers upon layers of just stuff (out of necessity, survival, mechanisms, etc.) on top of the true essence of who we are. That a 19 y/o young adult has maintained such an ability to state his honest opinion about an inanimate object is refreshing.