The Cadillac Eldorado was one of America’s preeminent automotive status symbols, an expensive and much sought after personal luxury car. Yet, the center spread of this 1970 Car and Driver road test featured a photo of the Eldorado test car parked outside a liquor store advertising “Pay Checks Cashed Free.” Here’s what C/D had to say about the 1970 Eldorado — and about who was really buying a car they called “not a symbol of success but success itself.”

When this review was first published in the April 1970 Car and Driver, Cadillac wasn’t yet quite as big as it would become later in the ’70s, but it was already extraordinarily successful — to an unprecedented degree for an expensive luxury marque.
In calendar 1969, Cadillac had built a record 266,798 cars — more than AMC; more than Imperial and Chrysler combined; and a few more than the Oldsmobile F-85/Cutlass.

Cadillac did not achieve that kind of success by selling cars only to the rich and famous. As C/D noted:
Stature is added to Cadillac’s owner list by corporate executives, oil tycoons and land barons, but they by no means make up the substance of that list. Wealth is implied but it’s not mandatory. You see Cadillacs in the workers’ parking lots at factories and you see Cadillacs parked in ghettos, solemnly awaiting their owners. With only a little prompting, service station attendants will tell you about their current Cadillacs and the ones they’ve owned before. Cadillacs are expensive but their owners are not necessarily wealthy. Each one does, however, have a conception of success, and owning a Cadillac is not a symbol of success but success in itself.
In the past, some CC commenters have had a hard time accepting that many luxury car buyers of this era were not wealthy at all. The confusion is understandable, considering that these were very expensive cars — the C/D Eldorado had a list price of $9,003.60, a relative worth of over $83,500 in 2025 dollars.

However, many people in those days aspired to Cadillac ownership, and quite a few middle-class and working-class households stretched their budgets to the breaking point to be able to park a new Cadillac out front.

Back in September 1968, Road Test Magazine had listed an array of now mostly forgotten Hollywood stars who drove Eldorados, and then offered this very interesting observation:
As it stands, Southern California is absorbing 12% of Eldorado production and since there aren’t nearly this many affluent actors and actresses about, a search for the explanation turned out to be interesting. It also indicated that if Cadillac is truthful about the claim that its owners have a median income of $25,000, then this group must be about equally divided between millionaires and ordinary folk — highly ordinary folk.
For example, one Los Angeles Cadillac dealer, located some distance from the normal shopping orbit of the stars, reports a typical Eldorado transaction, this one to a working couple whose occupations were ambulance driver and clerk-typist, respectively. They received a $3450 allowance for their ’65 Caddy, less the $785 still owed on it. Somehow the couple produced $1626 more in cash, took on two “pick-up” payments of $175 each and contracted to pay $185 a month for 36 months. The car stickered at $8890, a total about equal to the market value of their small home in Los Angeles’ pin-neat but modest Wilshire district. Including this sale the same dealer has placed eight Eldorados on the one block where this couple live! At these prices and the resultant, obvious sacrifice of any other expenditure that might abet the good life for the next 36 months, it would seem apparent that Cadillac, and Eldorado in particular, enjoys a certain priority of desire in the hearts of working man and star alike.

Car and Driver said much the same thing. “Clearly, a Cadillac has more significance than just an expensive car,” they remarked. “It may even be that the Cadillac significance outweighs the Cadillac as a car.” They mused:
What are people buying when they buy a Cadillac? … Somehow you just know a Cadillac is a good car. Not from anything specific—you just know it. Everybody knows it, even those who have never ridden in one. So you can buy one with confidence—nothing to worry about. And a Cadillac has a certain social image that is conservative and responsible, even in low income situations where the payments will hungrily consume the family resources for the next three or four years. It’s the halo of intangibles that makes the Cadillac especially desirable—the car merely has to avoid tarnishing the halo.

That probably sounds a little like a backhanded compliment, but in this era, Car and Driver still retained a certain amount of respect for Cadillac, even though it obviously wasn’t their kind of car. They said:
The Cadillac is, in fact, an exceptional automobile. It’s the American equivalent of a Mercedes. The two have different strong suits but they are alike in that they are both highly developed for the driving conditions and the tastes of their respective countries. And each appeals to an equivalent section of society in its country. They are both establishment-oriented cars—and that is the key.
All this applied about as well to any Cadillac, so what about the Eldorado?
The Eldorado was part of the Fleetwood series, like the Sixty Special and Seventy-Five limousines, so it was one of the more expensive Cadillac models, starting at $6,903. However, that was only $785 more than a Sedan de Ville, the most popular 1970 Cadillac — maybe an extra $25 or so a month on a 36-month car note.

It was also the handsomest Cadillac, although personally, I think the Eldorado suffered from the loss of its original concealed headlights, deleted after 1968. Cadillac stylists claimed hidden headlights had become passé (which didn’t stop Lincoln from use them very successfully on the Continental Mark series into the early ’80s), but it seemed more like Cadillac decided to delete the headlight doors and motors rather than re-engineer the concealed headlight mechanism to comply with Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standard No. 112 (which required that hidden lights stay open if the mechanism failed). The Eldorado was still a great-looking car, but it looked a little unfinished with exposed headlights.

For 1970, the Eldorado got its own engine, stroked from 472 cid to a full 500 cubic inches — 8,194 cc, if you please, “8.2 Litre” according to the new badge on the grille. This was the biggest passenger car engine in the world, and actually bigger in displacement than either of the V-16 engines Cadillac had offered back in the 1930s.

Cadillac rated the big V-8 at 400 hp and 550 lb-ft of torque, although of course these were SAE gross ratings, and not reflective of actual as-installed output.
Cadillac never published net outputs for the high-compression 500, but figure something in the realm of 280 to 300 net horsepower — hardly shabby, but not spectacular by the standards of the time. Alas, with 4,895 lb of curb weight, C/D found that even with the big engine, “the Eldorado jogs rather than runs.”

Here are some highlights from their performance tests:
- 0 to 30 mph: 3.7 sec.
- 0 to 60 mph: 9.6 sec.
- 0 to 100 mph: 24.0 sec.
- Standing quarter mile: 16.3 secs. at 86.0 mph
- Max. test speed: 112 mph (they estimated a top speed of 125 mph)
- Fuel mileage: 9.0 to 11.0 mpg on premium, giving a range of 198–242 miles on a 22-gallon tank.
C/D remarked:
It’s not necessary to explain that this is modest performance by today’s standards, for that is obvious, but for those of you not familiar with the athletic ability of Detroit’s premium-priced automobiles, we should point out that the Eldorado is without a doubt the quickest one. And it does it with no loss of composure.
The same unfortunately couldn’t be said of the Eldorado’s handling or braking. Car and Driver acknowledged that “no one in the world is really concerned as to whether or not it goes around a corner, or stops on demand,” but they found that the Eldo had “more than its shares of thumbs and left feet” in any kind of brisk cornering. As for the brakes, the disc/drum setup performed adequately in a single panic stop, but C/D warned that “fade resistance is unacceptable for modern traffic situations.” Their test car’s brakes faded so badly that very heavy pedal pressure was needed to complete a second 80 mph stop, and their third attempt “wasn’t a stop at all but rather a smoky re-entry that took well over 400 feet.”

In the areas Cadillac actually prioritized, the Eldorado generally performed very well. It had a well-damped ride, it was very quiet (although it had more road noise than expected), and the test car was equipped with just about every available convenience item.

C/D was annoyed by Cadillac’s à la carte approach to options (“Want whitewall tires? That’ll be $40.00, please, and we can put you in a trumpet horn for $15.80”), although that was still the Detroit norm at the time.

The editors also carped that the Eldorado’s $184.20 leather upholstery only gave you actual cowhide “in the few discreet [sic] inserts that are most likely to end up beneath your backside.” However, the test car’s fit and finish was good, and they thought the materials seemed high-quality. In those respects, C/D conceded, “you do get your money’s worth.”

Nonetheless, Car and Driver felt that for most buyers, rich or poor, any actual substance the Eldorado offered was very much a secondary consideration:
The only thing that matters is what it appears to be—its image. Does it say the right thing?
Apparently it does. We tried extremes of American society, from Beverly Hills to Watts, and wherever we went the Eldorado was well received while, at times, we were barely tolerated.
This lustrous image was enough to make Cadillac a mountain of money throughout the ’70s. Production peaked in 1978, at a whopping 350,761 units for the calendar year, and Cadillac sold every car it could build until Oil Crisis 2.0 slammed on the brakes in spring 1979.

Cadillac recovered somewhat in the mid-’80s, with annual production again topping 300,000 units for a few years. However, its moment had passed: Like a once-popular singer who keeps remixing the same old songs, Cadillac was becoming an increasingly tired and shabby nostalgia act, and lot of younger buyers of the Baby Boom generation and Gen X had difficulty even taking it seriously.

By the time I first read this Car and Driver article in a Brooklands Books compilation in the early 2000s, the rich and famous mostly hadn’t looked in Cadillac’s direction in years, and Cadillacs were seen less and less in affluent middle-class driveways in the Los Angeles area. However, I’d still see them fairly often in the poorer parts of town — an older person’s last-car splurge, or a slightly rough around the edges survivor, its once-potent symbolism now just another fading dream of the good life that never quite came true.
Related Reading
1969 and 1970 Cadillac Eldorados: The Best Of All Possible Worlds (by Aaron65)
This Time, It’s Personal: The 1967-1970 Cadillac Eldorado (at Ate Up With Motor)
Decade De Ville: Cadillac’s Bestselling ’70s De Villes (by me)
1969 Lincoln Continental Mark III, Inside And Out – Unsubtle But Effective (by me)




























In the early 70s, the doctor in the small town where I grew up bought a new Deville. His son was in my class and said that it caused a real uproar that he must be charging too much if he could afford a Cadillac. Eventually traded for a Buick Electra and the uproar died down
I had an Uncle by marriage who was a very successful criminal lawyer in a small town. His preference would have been a Lincoln, but he always drove a Mercury. Always fully loaded inside, never flashy outside.. As he said, “I can afford a Lincoln, but I can’t afford to be seen in one”.
This reminds me of a popular song from 1971 “When You’re Hot, You’re Hot” by country singer Jerry Reed. In the song the title character named Amos Moses gets busted for gambling. He goes in front of the judge and is shocked when he’s actually sentenced to jail. As he’s being hauled away he plaintively cries out “who’s gonna collect my welfare? Pay for my Cadillac?”
Of course, I will no have the title refrain “When you’re hot, you’re hot” stuck in my brain all day!
Oops…. the title character was not Amos Moses. That was a different song by Jerry Reed. I shouldn’t post comments before I’ve had my morning coffee.
Yeah, I don’t think Amos Moses used a Cadillac to get around the swamp, hunting alligators 😀.
Away from California, upper-middle types aspired to Buicks. An Eldo was the mark of a pro gambler or Mafia-connected businessman. The check-cashing store was appropriate in that context.
Interesting given C/D’s assertion that Lincolns and Imperials weren’t even in the same orbit as Cadillacs, that this review was written right around when Lincoln began to crack that nut with the Mark III/IV/V, which went on to outsell the Eldorado in the ’70s. I grew up around that time in one of those lower-middle class suburbs with modestly-sized houses that had a fair number of folks of the sort C/D noted, not-rich residents who stretched their budget to buy Cadillacs. (there were also quite a few Lincolns and even two Imperials on my block, a ’67 sedan and a huge fuselage coupe). But tellingly, few of my teenage or twentysomething neighbors or friends I talked to about cars even aspired to own a Cadillac, and their tastes seemed not to change when they got older. Benzes, Bimmers, and upscale Japanese cars like Maximas, Cressidas, and Supras replaced most of the Cadillacs and Lincolns by the mid-’80s. It seemed Cadillac’s ability to coast on their reputation and prestige ended around 1980.
The Eldorado owner owned the Check Cashing Business!
You beat me to it by…60 seconds.
…and he had no more credit at the local car parts store for a new indicator lens.
By the way, is the left blinker lens broken, or is it a reflection of something?
Yup.
In the late ’70s when I was going to Memorial Jr. School (grades 6-8), I always found it funny that the two janitors were driving brand-new Lincoln Continental sedans, while the assistant principal came to school in a beat-up 10-year-old Chevrolet Impala! To me, it should have been the other way around!
The style of signage shown in the lead photo is increasingly rare. One of the more interesting sights in my local area was a building I’ve dubbed “The Money Palace”. It stood on Broome & Mercer Streets in Newark NJ. Sadly, along with nearly all the other buildings in the neighborhood, it vanished long ago.
As a late Boomer I too think of Cadillac in positive and “successful” terms .
My own Cadillac is a 1980 Fleetwood based S & S Victoria hearse, it’s fairly scruffy but the 368 (under bored 500) V8 engine runs very well indeed and that’s a good thing .
It’s TH400 transmission after a proper fluid flush and filter change shifts well and doesn’t make the whining noises so many TH400’s do . (usually due to lack of proper service)
I don’t think I’ll ever scratch my itch of an early 1950’s “Dagmar” Cadillac Coupe but they were indeed also very good reliable and quiet cars in their time and well into the 1970’s .
This beautiful Eldorado is not my kinda car as I like to motorvate rapidly and land yachts don’t like corners, bumpy roads and so on .
Not to mention feeding the vast amounts of dead Dinosaurs these cars require .
-Nate
Looks like a perfect fit to me. That Cadillac is exactly what the shady owner of a check-cashing place would drive—trying to buy a little respectability with usurious money taken from his less fortunate customers.
My dad grew up poor, became middle-upper income. I refuse to equate income with “class”, more something you were born into. He mostly bought Chevy, and later, Toyota. The relatively expensive house near the beach, $40k in 1965, was his luxury.
“The car stickered at $8890, a total about equal to the market value of their small home in Los Angeles’ pin-neat but modest Wilshire district.” 1970? What were they smoking? Now, The $185/mo car payment could have equaled the house payment on a 30 year note.
The mid-life crisis car was only the super popular Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme coupe. Many engineers of his generation bought Oldsmobile, if not imports.
I grew up in a big blue collar town in the 1960’s and ’70’s. Cadillac was a very esteemed automotive ideal, and ownership of a new one was a dream of many of the working class folks that I knew at the time. The aura of Cadillac ownership was so strong that owning a used model was also considered to be quite satisfying. As long as it wasn’t too old!
I don’t know where the incomes of unionized working class folks and regular lower middle class folks overlapped. But unionized workers, especially UAW members, had good hourly wages combined with plenty of overtime at time and a half, and even double time, as well as paid vacation and sick time. Unused vacation and sick time benefits were paid out yearly if they had not been used up. The money was there, it was up to the person to decide how to spend it. There were many good jobs in manufacturing in the Bay Area at the time. besides GM, there was Ford, Dodge, Caterpillar, Mack and Peterbuilt truck, and many other good factory jobs.
Because of this my folks were able to buy a home and send their three kids to twelve years of Catholic school. My Dad would also work two full time jobs when the cannery was in season. He did buy new Chevys and a Pontiac wagon during this time. He thought that his fellow co workers were extremely foolish to spend their money on a Cadillac, Buick, or other expensive car. Especially those that didn’t even own their own home, who preferred to rent to have more disposable cash to squander.
I grew up a car obsessed kid, and the car that caught the most interest was Cadillac. Lots of other kids went for Corvettes or Pony or muscle cars, but the big flashy Cadillac was my choice.
I knew that lots of people who were driving Cadillacs, even new ones, were not wealthy. How could they be when they worked on the line at the same plant that my Dad did. While I worked at GM a couple of my co workers bought new Cadillacs or Buicks, and they were making the same money as I was.
As Car and Driver noted in their test of the downsized ’78 Coupe de Ville, that at one time Cadillacs were something special: better built, loaded with luxury features, more powerful, and blessed with distinctive styling. Owning a Cadillac didn’t change an average person’s life, instead it was an extravagant expense that took money that could have been better spent or invested. However I’m sure that they made the buyer feel pretty special.
I know that Cadillac’s aura has diminished over the years. But for me, none of the current Mercedes, Teslas, Audis, or BMWs that swarm Bay Area roads has ever impressed me the way they those Cadillacs of the 50’s ’60’s and ’70’s did.I know that that’s not a rational reaction, but as “ol Blue Eyes” sang, Cadillac had a way of “getting under your skin.”
I understand that for a while in the 1950s and into the 1960s a fair number of people still equated price with quality and they bought Cadillacs (and high-end appliances) because they assumed that they would be more reliable than a lower-priced items and that they would end up saving money over time by not having to buy and replace less expensive items as frequently.
Nothing has changed in that regard to this day – except that not as many people recognize it anymore.
I guess that nowadays people spend their inflation-adjusted $83,500 on a pickup truck or maybe a full-sized SUV.
Often for exactly the opposite reasons — I think part of the appeal of buying a F-150 Platinum or the like is that it lets multimillionaires maintain the pose of being Just Plain Folks.