Mythic Farewell - Car concepts often arrive as bold promises of the future, yet some appear more like thoughtful reflections—quiet, elegant ideas shaped by the moment they were born into. The Lancia Flaminia Marica belongs firmly to this second category. Created at a time when Italian coachbuilding was navigating uncertainty and reinvention, the Marica stands as a refined closing chapter to the Flaminia story, blending classic Lancia values with late-1960s design sensibilities.
The 1969 Lancia Flaminia Marica by Ghia stands as a refined closing chapter to the Flaminia story, blending classic Lancia values with late-1960s design sensibilities. (Picture from: Carrozzeria-Italiani)
Unveiled in the autumn of 1969 at the 51st Turin Motor Show, the Marica was already something of an anachronism from the start. Lancia had ended Flaminia production, and the brand itself was facing severe financial difficulties while searching for a buyer. The concept was built by Carrozzeria Ghia on a short-wheelbase Flaminia chassis measuring 252 centimeters—specifically chassis number 1168, the final example of its series. This made the Maricaone of only two non-production design studies to use this particular platform, instantly placing it in rare company.
The 1969 Lancia Flaminia Marica by Ghia was built by Carrozzeria Ghia on a short-wheelbase Flaminia chassis measuring 252 centimeters—specifically chassis number 1168, the final example of its series. (Picture from: Carrozzeria-Italiani)
Behind the project stood Alejandro de Tomaso, who had acquired Ghia in 1967 and was rapidly becoming a central figure in Italy’s automotive industry. The Marica is widely believed to have been commissioned at his urging, not as a commercial product but as a strategic gesture—an attempt to remind the world of Lancia’s design pedigree and potential value. Whether altruistic or opportunistic, the decision resulted in a singular vehicle that quietly carried considerable symbolic weight.
The 1969 Lancia Flaminia Marica by Ghia was designed by American stylist Tom Tjaarda, who revisited the Flaminia platform with a close-coupled coupé that balanced elegance and restraint. (Picture from: Carrozzeria-Italiani)
The design itself came from Tom Tjaarda, an American stylist whose career bridged Pininfarina, Ghia, and later Ital Design. Having already explored the Flaminia platform earlier in the decade, Tjaarda approached the Marica as a close-coupled coupé that balanced elegance with restraint. It was named after Marica, a nymph from Roman mythology, reinforcing its poetic rather than aggressive character. The body avoided dramatic flourishes, instead favoring proportion, surface quality, and subtle detailing.
The 1969 Lancia Flaminia Marica by Ghia features a spacious, finely finished interior that reflects the era’s idea of quiet Italian luxury, favoring comfort over spectacle. (Picture from: Carrozzeria-Italiani)
Visually, the Marica is unmistakably a Lancia, yet not a copy of any production model. The front features a restrained interpretation of the marque’s traditional shield grille, integrated into a more horizontal nose treatment. Both the windshield and rear window are sharply inclined, giving the car a sleek, flowing profile. Along the sides, clean lines are interrupted only by a pronounced swage that rises toward the C-pillar, while the tail is truncated with raised upper edges—a clear nod to the Fulvia Coupé that anchors the car firmly within Lancia’s design language.
The 1969 Lancia Flaminia Marica by Ghia was powered by Lancia’s 2.8-liter (2775 cc) V6 engine, using a triple-carburetor setup, the same mechanical specification found in the Flaminia 3C 2800 GT. (Picture from: Carrozzeria-Italiani)
Inside, the Marica reflects the quiet luxury expected of a flagship Italian coupé of its era. The cabin is spacious and carefully finished, emphasizing comfort over spectacle. A walnut briar dashboard spans the interior, with centrally positioned gauges that give the cockpit a balanced, architectural feel. Materials and layout work together to create an atmosphere that feels refined rather than experimental, suggesting a car meant to be lived with, not merely admired on a show stand.
Today, the Lancia Flaminia Maricaremains a one-off creation and the last of five Flaminia fuori serie crafted by Italian coachbuilders. It never evolved into a production model, yet its influence echoed into the 1970s through later designs associated with Tjaarda and beyond. More than a missed opportunity or a forgotten prototype, the Marica reads as a thoughtful pause in automotive history—a graceful reminder of how design, circumstance, and ambition briefly aligned before an era quietly came to an end. *** [EKA | FROM VARIOUS SOURCES | CARROZZIERI-ITALIANI | DRIVETOWRITE | ALVIO TETTO IN PINTEREST ]
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Visionary Departure - The automotive world has always been shaped by bold ideas that never quite reached the road, and those unrealized visions often say more about an era than the cars that did. In the late 1970s, as design philosophies shifted and global markets began to influence European manufacturers more strongly, Alpine found itself at a crossroads. Known for compact, lightweight sports cars, the brand quietly explored a very different future through a project that challenged its own identity: the Alpine A480, a futuristic four-seater concept designed to redefine what an Alpine could be.
The Alpine A480 Concept. (Picture from: LesAlpinistes)
Unlike the minimalist, driver-focused berlinettes that built Alpine’s reputation, the A480 was imagined as a true grand tourer. The idea was simple yet radical for the brand—create a car that could carry four passengers comfortably, along with their luggage, without abandoning the sporty soul Alpine was famous for. Conceptually, it sat somewhere between a coupe and a compact sedan, featuring a central rear engine layout that echoed Alpine’s racing DNA while offering the practicality of a family-oriented GT. Internally, it was sometimes described as a “family A310,” a phrase that captured both its ambition and its departure from tradition.
The Alpine A480 Concept. (Picture from: LesAlpinistes)
This project emerged under the NGA, or New Alpine Range, initiative, launched after Renault took control of Alpine and following the departure of founder Jean Rédélé. Renault’s goal was to modernize and expand the lineup, making Alpine more competitive on an international scale. The A480 was positioned as a cornerstone of this new direction, signaling a move away from niche sports cars toward a broader, more upscale audience. It was not just a design exercise, but a strategic attempt to future-proof the brand in a rapidly evolving market.
Design responsibility was shared between two influential figures of the era. Trevor Fiore, working as an external designer, developed the concept that would later be identified asthe Alpine A480and shape the project’s final direction. In parallel, Marcello Gandini, working with Bertone, proposed a more radical alternative—often referred to asthe A410 Bertone—whose sharp, wedge-like form echoed the aggressive design language found in contemporary icons such asthe Lamborghini Countach. As was typical within Renault during the late 1970s, multiple design studios were evaluated side by side, but Fiore’s more balanced vision was ultimately selected for its closer alignment with Renault’s strategic and market ambitions.
The Alpine A480 Concept. (Picture from: LesAlpinistes)
Visually, the Alpine A480 stood apart from anything the brand had built before. Its squared-off proportions and fastback profile gave it a distinctly modern presence for its time, with design cues that hinted at boththe A310and future Alpine models likethe GTA. The wheels were pushed to the corners, reinforcing a planted stance, while the window cut-outs and integrated lighting emphasized its angular character. Beneath the styling, the centrally mounted rear engine underscored its performance ambitions, even as the overall package leaned toward comfort and long-distance usability rather than pure agility.
The Alpine A410 Bertone Concept. (Picture from: LesAlpinistes)
Ultimately, the A480 never progressed beyond the concept stage. High development costs and uncertainty about its reception—especially among Alpine’s traditional European audience—led Renault to abandon the project. The A310remained in production longer than planned, and the radical four-seat GT vision was shelved. Still, the A480 was far from a dead end. Its influence can be traced in later models like the Renault 5 GT Turbo and Alpine A610, both of which carried forward elements of its design thinking. Today, the Alpine A480 stands as a fascinating snapshot of a brand daring to reinvent itself, a reminder that sometimes the most compelling automotive stories are found in the cars that almost were. *** [EKA | FROM VARIOUS SOURCES | LESALPINISTES | CAR DESIGN ARCHIVES IN FACEBOOK ]
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Radical Experiment - The early 1980s were a period of transition for the global automotive industry, when established performance icons were no longer treated as fixed formulas. Manufacturers were searching for new identities shaped by aerodynamics, motorsport influence, and futuristic optimism. Ford found itself in the middle of that uncertainty and briefly allowed the Mustang to become a platform for experimentation rather than tradition. From that moment emerged the Ford Mustang RSX Concept, often nicknamed “Fugly Squared,” a bold attempt to reinterpret the pony car through a rally-inspired lens.
The Ford Mustang RSX Concept, often nicknamed “Fugly Squared,” a bold attempt to reinterpret the pony car through a rally-inspired lens. (Picture from: Motorious)
Ford chose the 1981 Chicago Auto Show as the stage for the RSX’s public debut, making its intentions clear from the outset. This was not a preview of a showroom model, but a visual and conceptual statement. At a time when auto shows served as arenas for daring ideas, the RSX stood out by proposing a Mustang imagined for international rally stages rather than American muscle-car culture. The reaction was immediate and polarized, which only reinforced its role as a conversation starter.
The Ford Mustang RSX Concept visually departed from Mustang heritage, reducing familiar cues to minimal branding while embracing sharp angles, flat surfaces, and exaggerated early-1980s geometric futurism. (Picture from: Motorious)
Visually, the RSX departed dramatically from Mustang heritage. Familiar styling cues were stripped down to minimal branding, replaced by sharp angles, flat surfaces, and exaggerated geometric forms emblematic of early-1980s futurism. Black plexiglass bonded to the doors gave the body a sleek, experimental appearance, while plexiglass headlight covers attempted to smooth airflow around the chunky front end. A rear-mounted airfoil completed the look, signaling that function and concept took priority over nostalgia.
The Ford Mustang RSX Concept used black plexiglass bonded to the doors for a sleek, experimental look, while plexiglass headlight covers aimed to smooth airflow over its chunky front end. (Picture from: Motorious)
The RSX’s unusual character became easier to understand once its origins were revealed. The concept was developed at Ghia’s design studio in Turin, Italy, using Ford’s then-new Foxbody platform as its foundation. Ghia reshaped the proportions with rally intent, widening the track, shortening the wheelbase, and raising the ride height to suit rough terrain. Rear seats were eliminated entirely, emphasizing that this was a study in purpose and form, not everyday usability.
The Ford Mustang RSX Concept’s interior balanced endurance and refinement, featuring thickly padded leather bucket seats with bold red accents instead of a stripped competition cockpit. (Picture from: Motorious)
Inside, the RSX adopted an approach that balanced endurance with refinement. Rather than a stripped competition cockpit, the interior featured thickly padded leather bucket seats with bold red accents, designed to keep occupants comfortable during long stages. Even the steering wheel hub was padded and wrapped in leather, highlighting an unexpected focus on driver comfort. The shifter was mounted high on the center stack in classic rally fashion, shortening hand movement and reinforcing a driver-centric layout that prioritized control and efficiency.
The Ford Mustang RSX Concept was powered by Ford’s 2.3-liter turbocharged four-cylinder engine paired with a four-speed manual transmission, while much of its suspension hardware was carried over from the production Mustang. (Picture from: Motorious)
Mechanically, the RSX remained deliberately restrained, reinforcing its role as a design exploration rather than a performance benchmark. Power came from Ford’s 2.3-liter turbocharged four-cylinder engine paired with a four-speed manual transmission, while much of the suspension hardware was carried over from the production Mustang. This restraint made it clear that the RSX was never meant to prove speed or dominance. Apologies if the following video does not directly relate to the RSX Concept discussed here. | 8vOoQnTIMAQ |
Viewed today, the Mustang RSX Concept feels less like a failed idea and more like an honest snapshot of creative freedom. It captured a moment when Ford was willing to challenge its own legacy, even if the result was divisive. The RSX did not need to reach production to leave an impact; its significance lies in showing how experimentation, even when imperfect, plays a crucial role in shaping the direction of automotive design. *** [EKA | FROM VARIOUS SOURCES | MOTORIOUS ]
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Unfortunate Ingenuity - Automotive progress is often measured by what survives, yet the industry’s true character is revealed just as clearly by what fades away. The early 1980s were a transitional moment, marked by experimentation, stylistic risk, and small manufacturers testing the boundaries of possibility. Within this environment, the 1980 Fuhr Osage emerged as an uncommon expression of American creativity—one shaped not by corporate scale, but by the determination to build something visually striking and mechanically sensible at the same time.
The Fuhr Osage is a low-slung early-1980s wedge-shaped sports car with a red fiberglass body, sharply angled window lines, integrated gull-wing door cutlines, wide rear fenders, and period-correct wheels that emphasize its experimental yet purposeful design. (Picture from AllCarIndex)
At first glance, the Osage communicated its ambitions without subtlety. Its wedge-shaped profile echoed the futuristic design language gaining momentum at the turn of the decade, while the gull-wing doors gave the car a dramatic presence more often associated with high-end European exotics. The sharply angled window geometry was both a design signature and a practical solution, allowing the use of flat glass rather than costly curved panels. Constructed from fiberglass with a foam-reinforced inner structure, the body balanced lightweight performance with sufficient rigidity, reinforcing the car’s identity as a thoughtfully engineered niche sports vehicle rather than a purely visual experiment.
The Fuhr Osage presents a clean wedge-shaped profile with angular glass, gull-wing door cutlines, compact overhangs, and period-correct wheels that highlight its minimalist early-1980s design philosophy. (Image generated by Gemini using the first image above as a visual reference)
Beneath its unconventional exterior, the Osage relied on a familiar and proven mechanical platform. Fuhr Motors chose the Volkswagen Beetle chassis as the car’s foundation, a decision rooted in reliability, availability, and ease of maintenance. This approach reflected a pragmatic philosophy: instead of reinventing the mechanical core, Fuhr focused its innovation on design and packaging. While interior details were modest and functional rather than luxurious, the cabin aligned with the Osage’s two-seat, driver-focused nature, emphasizing simplicity and engagement over excess.
The Fuhr Osage features a sharply tapered rear design with wide fenders, a flat tail section, integrated rear lighting, and a smooth red fiberglass body that emphasizes its low, experimental sports-car proportions. (Image generated by Gemini using the first image above as a visual reference)
Fuhr Motors operated from Lake Grove, New York, and remained a small, short-lived manufacturer, producing the Osage in very limited numbers. Its brief existence meant the car never achieved mainstream recognition, yet that scarcity has become part of its legacy. In today’s automotive landscape—dominated by global platforms, digital design, and strict homogenization—the 1980 Fuhr Osage stands as a reminder of an era when individuality could still take physical form. It represents a moment when bold design choices and practical engineering met without apology, leaving behind a rare artifact that continues to intrigue enthusiasts who value originality over ubiquity. *** [EKA | FROM VARIOUS SOURCES | ALLCARINDEX | FIBERCLASSICS.ORG | CLASSIC-CARS.OVERBLOG | MOTOR-JUNKIE ]
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Evolved Elegance - Automotive history often remembers the cars that reached production, yet some of the most meaningful design breakthroughs come from concepts that were allowed to evolve rather than succeed instantly. In the 1970s, when luxury sedans were still defined by tradition and restraint, Maserati briefly explored a more experimental path. That exploration took shape through a single concept car that would be shown to the world twice, transformed by criticism, persistence, and vision: the Maserati Medici.
The 1974 Maserati Medici I by ItalDesign. (Picture from: AllCarIndex)
The Medici project began in 1974 under the direction of Giorgetto Giugiaro and his Turin-based design firm, Italdesign. At the time, Giugiaro was already a dominant force in automotive design, having shaped celebrated Maserati models such asthe Ghibli, Bora, and Merak. His goal was ambitious—to imagine a four-door Maserati that could rival the presence and comfort of American luxury limousines while retaining Italian performance character. The concept was also a response to the contemporary Quattroporte II, whose limited power failed to reflect Maserati’s sporting heritage.
The 1974 Maserati Medici I by ItalDesign. (Picture from: CarThrottle)
Named after the influential Medici family of Florence, renowned since the 14th century for their wealth, power, and patronage of the arts, the car was meant to embody authority and cultural prestige. The original version, later referred to asMedici I, used an existing Maserati Indychassis and replaced the standard V6 with a far more imposing V8 engine of nearly five liters, mounted longitudinally. This mechanical choice aligned the concept with Maserati’s performance identity while setting the foundation for a true executive flagship.
The 1974 Maserati Medici I by ItalDesign. (Picture from: CarThrottle)
Inside, Medici Iwas unapologetically unconventional. The cabin featured six seats arranged to resemble a private lounge rather than a traditional sedan. Four rear seats faced each other in a “living room” configuration, wrapped in velour upholstery to enhance comfort and intimacy. The idea was to transform the car into a moving salon, prioritizing conversation and relaxation over driving involvement—an unusual but deliberate statement in the context of 1970s luxury.
The 1976 Maserati Medici II by ItalDesign. (Picture from: Wikipedia)
Stylistically, Giugiaro pursued clean geometry and balance, drawing inspiration fromhis Audi Asso di Picche concept. The two-box silhouette was sharp and modern, yet when Medici I debuted at the 1974 Turin Motor Show, its proportions drew criticism. The bonnet sat noticeably low compared to the roofline, giving the car an awkward visual stance that clashed with Giugiaro’s otherwise disciplined design language. Even Italdesign later acknowledged that the execution did not meet expectations, an honest reflection of the project’s shortcomings.
The 1976 Maserati Medici II by ItalDesign. (Picture from: CarStylingru)
Rather than abandoning the idea, Giugiaro chose to rework it entirely. The same car was brought back into the Italdesign workshop and subjected to a comprehensive redesign that touched nearly every visible surface. The revised version, unveiled in 1976 and known asMedici II, corrected the proportions by raising the bonnet line, replacing the pop-up headlights with four rectangular units, and adding a more formal chrome-framed grille. The result was less sporty but far more elegant, aligning the car with executive luxury rather than experimental futurism.
The 1976 Maserati Medici II by ItalDesign. (Picture from: Wikipedia)
The interior transformation was just as significant. The six-seat lounge concept was replaced with a four-seat executive layout. Rear-facing seats were removed and substituted with custom cabinets housing a minibar, refrigerator, writing desk, and document storage. Individual rear armchairs replaced the bench seating, while leather and briarwood supplanted velour. Advanced features for the era, including a television and a radio telephone, reinforced Medici II’s role as a mobile office designed for high-ranking occupants. | YcyON_teCGE | etDzQWd3clk |
Medici II debuted at the 1976 Paris Motor Show to widespread acclaim, a stark contrast to the mixed reception of its earlier form. Its appeal extended beyond the exhibition hall when it was acquired in 1977 by Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the Shah of Persia. More importantly, its design language influenced Maserati’s future, particularly the Quattroporte III, which achieved the commercial and institutional success that the Medici itself never sought. Today, preserved at the Louwman Museum in the Netherlands, the Medicistands as a single car with two identities—an evolving experiment that demonstrated how refinement, humility, and persistence can turn early misjudgment into lasting influence. *** [EKA | FROM VARIOUS SOURCES | ITALDESIGN.IT | LOUWMANMUSEUM | STORY-CARS | CARSTYLING.RU | SUPERCARS.NET | ALLCARINDEX | CARTHROTTLE | WIKIPEDIA ]
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Mechanical Farewell - The modern hypercar world moves at an unforgiving pace, yet every so often it pauses to look back at an idea that changed everything. Bugatti has chosen such a moment to reflect on the legacy of the Veyron by unveiling the F.K.P. Hommage, a one-off creation that reconnects today’s cutting-edge engineering with a dream first imagined two decades ago. More than a nostalgic exercise, this car arrives as a meaningful bridge between the brand’s past dominance and a future already taking shape without the iconic W16 engine.
The Bugatti F.K.P. Hommage marks the end of the W16 era with a modern Veyron tribute. (Picture from: CarBuzz)
At the heart of the F.K.P. Hommage lies the vision of Ferdinand Karl Piëch, the Volkswagen Group leader whose fascination with extreme engineering led to the birth ofthe Veyron EB 16.4. His concept of a quad-turbocharged W16 engine—essentially two narrow-angle VR8 units fused together—was radical even by supercar standards. That engine not only powered the original Veyron to unprecedented performance levels but later evolved through the Super Sport, Grand Sport Vitesse, and eventually the Chiron, growing from just under 1,000 horsepower to well beyond 1,500. For this tribute, Bugatti selected the 1,580-horsepower configuration fromthe Chiron Super Sport 300+, the first production Bugatti to realize Piëch’s long-standing ambition of approaching the 300-mph barrier.
The Bugatti F.K.P. Hommage refines the Veyron’s design with larger wagon-spoke wheels and a precisely milled aluminum horseshoe grille that integrates more cleanly into the front end.(Picture from: CarBuzz)
Visually, the F.K.P. Hommage revisits the Veyron’s once-controversial design language and reframes it through a modern lens. The familiar two-tone layout returns, but now benefits from advances in materials and paint technology, creating deeper reflections and more complex surfaces. An aluminum-based paint beneath a red-tinted clearcoat gives the body an almost liquid glow, while exposed carbon fiber replaces traditional black paint at the rear, subtly darkened with pigment in the clear finish. The proportions, slightly broader and more planted thanks to the newer platform beneath, allow classic elements like the drooping headlights and rearward stance to feel more resolved and confident.
The Bugatti F.K.P. Hommage carries the cabin back to the original Veyron era with a symmetrical layout, metal-rich finishes, fabric-trimmed seats in warm tones, and a bespoke Audemars Piguet tourbillon clock crowning the dashboard.(Picture from: CarBuzz)
The exterior details reinforce that sense of careful evolution rather than imitation. Larger wheels preserve the original wagon-spoke style while filling the arches more assertively, and a newly milled aluminum horseshoe grille integrates more seamlessly into the nose. Bugatti retained the roof-mounted air intakes that once defined the Veyron’s silhouette, anchoring the car firmly in its heritage. Every surface feels intentional, shaped through multiple refinements to create what Bugatti’s designers consider the most complete expression of the Veyron idea.
The Bugatti F.K.P. Hommage revisits the Veyron’s once-controversial design
language through a modern lens, enhancing its iconic two-tone form with
advanced materials and richer, more expressive finishes.(Picture from: CarBuzz)
Step inside, and the atmosphere deliberately turns back the clock. Instead of the Chiron’s dramatic central spine, the cabin mirrors the Veyron’s more symmetrical layout, finished with engine-turned aluminum and brushed alloy across the center console. Fabric-trimmed seats recall early Veyron interiors, paired with a warm brown palette and subtle EB insignia. The centerpiece is a bespoke Audemars Piguet tourbillon clock mounted high on the dashboard, blending traditional watchmaking artistry with the mechanical bravado that defines the car itself. | U-3ISfFfVGs |
As a single, bespoke creation from Bugatti’s Programme Solitaire, the F.K.P. Hommagequietly marks the end of an era. With the company now transitioning to a hybridized, naturally aspirated V16 for its next generation, the thunderous W16 takes its final bow here. The result is not a farewell speech, but a living reminder of how one audacious idea reshaped the automotive landscape—and why, even as technology moves on, its influence still resonates today. *** [EKA | FROM VARIOUS SOURCES | CARBUZZ | BLACKXPERIENCE ]
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Behind the project stood Alejandro de Tomaso, who had acquired Ghia in 1967 and was rapidly becoming a central figure in Italy’s automotive industry. The Marica is widely believed to have been commissioned at his urging, not as a commercial product but as a strategic gesture—an attempt to remind the world of Lancia’s design pedigree and potential value. Whether altruistic or opportunistic, the decision resulted in a singular vehicle that quietly carried considerable symbolic weight. 
Today, the Lancia Flaminia Marica remains a one-off creation and the last of five Flaminia fuori serie crafted by Italian coachbuilders. It never evolved into a production model, yet its influence echoed into the 1970s through later designs associated with Tjaarda and beyond. More than a missed opportunity or a forgotten prototype, the Marica reads as a thoughtful pause in automotive history—a graceful reminder of how design, circumstance, and ambition briefly aligned before an era quietly came to an end. *** [EKA | FROM VARIOUS SOURCES | CARROZZIERI-ITALIANI | DRIVETOWRITE | ALVIO TETTO IN PINTEREST ]
