|Stutz Bearcat from the Jazz Age|
Near them was the parking space, as yet a modest yard; and as they lingered indecisively, their eyes were caught and held by a small car, red in color and slung at that proximity to the ground which indicated both speed of motion and speed of life. It was a Blatz Wildcat, and for the next five years it represented the ambition of several million American boys. Occupying it, in the posture of aloof exhaustion exacted by the sloping seat, was a blonde, gay, baby-faced girl.
F. Scott Fitzgerald - A Night at the Fair (1928)
A Blatz Wildcat eh? It is thought that Fitzgerald, being something of a petrolhead, was referring to the Stutz Bearcat.
What about today? What does a young chap covet now? A politically correct Tesla? Or further down the scale, a knackered Subaru Impreza or a Vauxhall Corsa with drainpipe exhaust? Either way the romance has gone and the baby-faced girl has other ambitions. Or maybe not.