No Stinkin' Badges

I’m convinced that an entire book could be written on the subject of what one could reasonably define as “automotive iconism” – i.e. the cornucopia of badges, emblems, and logos which festoon (to one degree or another) nearly every car produced during the past eleven or so decades.

Yes, I must admit that some of these emblems are indeed aesthetically appealing, and, in a few cases, even appropriate, however the vast majority are automotive eye sores usually serving as nothing more than some marketing department wiz kid’s proposed affirmation to whatever shallow yuppie type represented his or her targeted customer that week.

Back when I sold tires, the company I worked for showed us a training film about “the three different types of high-performance tire customers.”

Customer A was an oblivious soccer mom with a BMW M5 or a Mercedes AMG…she had no clue that she was driving one of the fastest cars on the road and couldn’t understand why her car absolutely required high performance tires. Customer B was a cheap leather jacket-wearing lounge lizard with a rough-running 12-year-old Corvette…he wanted tires that looked cool and would make his Vette somehow “faster.” And then there was Customer C. Customer C was the real deal…a guy with a nearly new Porsche 911 who knew as much if not more about high performance tires as you did and also knew EXACTLY what he wanted. He didn’t care about appearance or gimmicky marketing claims…he just wanted a tire that would maintain the original equipment ride and handling of his high performance car without sacrificing either trait. In other words, Customer C was all substance, no fluff.

It occurs to me that Customer C is the type of guy who could give a damn less about “badges.” His logic? “Are they functional?” “No.” “Then get rid of ‘em.”

And that’s what a lot of those guys (and girls) tend to do. They will often take a heat gun (or hairdryer) to these useless plastic or vinyl pretenses of status or performance, melting the thin coat of glue attaching them to their car’s body and thus creating…a sleeper.

Ah, the sleeper.

The dowdy 1989 Fox-bodied Mustang LX which appears, like all its lowly brethren, to possess only the standard-equipment, anemic four-cylinder engine, but in reality houses the snarling V8 of the mighty Mustang GT…the venerable “5.0” badges removed from its front fenders in an attempt to lure hapless rice-burners into a stoplight drag race.

Or perhaps a mid-eighties Buick Grand National, repainted a different color and with a standard Buick Regal’s hood, wheels, and chrome grille. Such a turbocharged wolf in sheep’s clothing would wreak havoc on any machine unlucky enough to challenge it in any straight-line acceleration contest!

The more modern, more “mature” equivalent of these examples would certainly be a silver Acura TL Type S, de-badged and relieved of its dual chrome exhaust tips for some “under the radar flying” by a driver who wants desperately not to be noticed by his or her local Interstate highway constabulary.

While some people would say that this sort of thing is shallow or immature, I would argue that leaving the superfluous decorations on your ride is no less so. I suppose it’s all somewhat relative, however I can’t help but think about the old “personality versus character” adage (“personality is who people think you are, but character is who you really are”).

As for me, I’ll take a car with character.

Until next time…