If you saw the orgy of multimillion-dollar athletics-exploiting commercialism known as the Super Bowl this past weekend, you might have seen a certain Dodge Charger commercial. Entitled “Man’s Last Stand,” it was the stronger pick of an evening of lackluster, cliche, bombastic, vaguely misogynistic ads with little automotive representation (unless you count Toyota’s creepy public-service announcement) other than Hyundai and Jeff Bridges’ oh-so-soothing voice.
“I will walk the dog at 6:30am. I will eat some fruit as part of my breakfast. I will shave. I will clean the sink after I shave. I will say yes when you want me to say yes. I will listen to your friends. I will put the seat down. I will carry your lip balm. I will watch your vampire TV shows with you. And because I do this, I will drive the car I want to drive.” Cue screeching tires and general disdain for public welfare, set to an Iggy Pop soundtrack.
But will I drive a Furious Fuchsia Challenger?
No doubt scholars and professors could read into this as the eroding of man’s primal instincts, he as hunter-gatherer and protector of the nest, whittled away over centuries of domestic servitude into a life of worrying about patchouli oil and Coldplay tickets. Certainly they have already. Or, it could just be that Dodge’s marketing geniuses wants you to believe that their cars cars are the 4-wheeled equivalent of Chuck Norris punching a grizzly bear in the bonch.
Manly men drive Dodges; manly men can also wear pink shirts and (usually) get away with it. So when the Nostalgia Department at Chrysler Group LLC (the only part of the company actually turning a profit) announced the 2011 Challenger with the same sort of eye-searing pink normally reserved for missile silo kill-switches, it’s the sort of irony that makes Samuel Beckett feel underappreciated. Would you drive a manly, fire-breathing, tire-squealing 400+hp RWD muscle car guaranteed to put hair on your chest…if it were bright pink?
On the one hand, Dodge cars are the last bastion of modern man, an escape pod from all the travails of masculinity—a concept that even crosses gender boundaries. And yet, on the same day, they announce the return of an industrial-strength pink found on Hello Kitty lunchboxes covered in glitter and Edward Cullen stickers.
But whether you’re afraid the drive-thru girls at Rally’s are going to tease you in front of your rugby team, brah, it’s still a very sharp-looking package. Complemented with the optional Pearl White seats and white 1971-throwback R/T stripes on the R/T Classic (left), it’s attention-grabbing without being overly tacky: after all, last week’s G-Power Typhoon X5 is a milder shade of white, but which car would you rather be seen in?
Either way, bright, obnoxious colors are a boon to the masses: it brings a little extra cheer to the 50 shades of grey that pass for “a reflection of an owner’s personality” these days. Bright colors are a rebellion against the relentless domination of silver, a middle finger to Toyota beige, and a necessity in these fearmongering, recession-addled times. They’re visual Xanax. They’re a box of Crayola crayons. And they can even resist the tiresome interpretations of masculinity, trotted out year after year by a jaded and increasingly desperate marketing department.
Just as long as it’s on somebody else’s car.
— Blake Rong
I don't care what color it is, it's still a Dodge so no way in hell!
If you want to feel nostalgic then its your car. It from a time when you could get the plum crazy purples and lime greens. Which is still cool in my book. But there not the only pink cars in the present time thought. Ford did market Mustang GT's and V6's with pink ribbons and pink stripes for breast cancer awarness.
I would pick a pink car any day….