You know what bit of modern slang I really like? The use of the word “coded.” Like when people say something is, “[some noun]-coded” meaning that it has the feel of whatever the reference was. Like I have a shirt that is Boy Scout-coded or this ancient temple is very Cheesecake Factory-coded or whatever. You know what I mean.
Anyway, this 1952 French Ford brochure for a car called the Abeille (that means “bee” in French) is very early postwar children’s book-coded, illustration-wise. The style of these illustrations feels a little less like the typical car brochure illustrations of the era and more like, say, a Curious George book.
There’s just something about how the car is rendered, the slightly modified (lightly cutified?) proportions, the shading style and texture, just all of it feels sort of happily storybook-coded.
The car itself is kind of fascinating, too: it’s a commercial version of the French Ford Vedette, which started life as a plan for a smaller, lighter Ford for the postwar American market. In the end it was decided that Ford would sell bigger cars to Americans, and this “light Ford” was sent off to France, where it became the Vedette. These things had a 2.2-liter V8 engine! What a tiny V8!
The Abille was the commercial version of the Vedette, and had some interesting modifications. Most of the chrome was gone, replaced with painted trim, and the rear side windows were covered with body-colored panels, but from the inside, and the glass remained, which is really weird. Lots of carmakers had commercial versions that blocked out the rear side windows to make a more van-like body, but they almost always replaced the glass with sheetmetal. This is strange.
But here’s what really makes the Abille cool: that tailgate/hatchback setup. While this could be fitted with seating for five, in full utility mode it was just one seat and a crapload of room, accessible via the side doors, which opened with no B-pillar (reverse-opening rear doors made for a huge access area) and the combination hatch/tailgate at the rear provided great cargo access.
You could hold half a ton in this thing! Or that’s what it says, at least.
With the front passenger seat gone, the load area is about as long as a pickup truck, too. And note how the tailgate can be locked into that horizontal position, in case you need to let something really big hang out the back on the tailgate.
Look at these lovely illustrations, though! This brochure is fun because the car is seen through a cutout in the center, and the surrounding background changes. I love how part of the illustration is a naturalistic environment, and then the rest are repeating images – almost icon-like – of objects that can be crammed into the car.
On the right side pages, we have a different view of the Abille, again seen through a cutout, but on this side it’s just the objects and no background, like these hunks of butcher meat, sacks of grain, baguettes, and, yes, oil drums.
This car is an exception, as it’s not one of the cutout pages, so we see it with doors and hatch closed. The Vedette/Abille were tidy-looking little fastbacks, maybe getting a bit dated by 1952, but still handsome in an understated way. Also, I love all these fabric colors and patterns.
Look at these fantastic tables and chairs! That’s some hardcore midcentury furniture porn, right there.
I don’t think utility versions of cars tended to get saved and preserved like their more posh siblings, and that’s a shame. Often they’re the most interesting version of a car!
This makes me think about children’s books with awesome vehicle illustrations. From Cars and Trucks and Things That Go, Big Joe’s Trailer Truck, and the works of Virginia Lee Burton (Katy and the Big Snow, Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel, etc.)
I bet there was a special version for fish, especially snails. Then it would have to be called the Abeille S. The people would say L’Abeille S Allez! Or in English, look at that S Car Go!
It was also probably shaped like a fish too. Which is awfully convenient since fish are naturally aereodynamic.
In the first illustration it looks like they drew hobbit-sized people next to the car to make it appear larger than it actually is. If so, I applaud the clever if highly dishonest presentation.
Shortly after that car, France went into a panic about all the lost taxes due to people getting company cars in lieu of higher wages.
So the rules were tightened and company cars, had to have two seats.
Something which remains to this day.
Rules were lifted slightly to allow cars with seats for presidents of companies, but even there an amazing number find it is better to buy their own cars, even if they have a company chauffer.
The large hatchback has always been a French thing — even now the Berlingo car with the lifting hatchback, has one large enough to keep a family of four out of the rain.
Interesting:
It’s giving 1951 Kaiser Traveler from the tailgate –
1949 Mercury from the fender line which terminates in the driver’s door –
And 1950’s French Watercolor Impressionism from the illustration style.