I'm not sure how Ford's Falcon-derived, import-fighting Maverick ended up being turned into a bizarre factory neoclassic for the 1971 auto show season.
When I first wrote about this car nine years ago, a well-informed reader reached out to comment that it looked like it had George Barris’ fingerprints all over it. I can see why…
It's all kinds of awful, as if we needed competition for the Leata Cabalero. I'm genuinely surprised that Ford managed to predict the Malaise Era by a few years, and relieved this remained a concept car.
This is your grandparent's basement chesterfield on wheels, minus the veneer'd coffee table in front with an always-stocked bowl of scotch mints.
I'm quite positive if a colour photo exists of its interior, (or if the car survives intact, somewhere!) a wormhole to Studio 54 would open by merely opening its metallic Limefire Green door.
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