Let’s Talk About The DAF 55 For Reasons That Will Become Clear Soon Enough

I decided to write about an interesting little Dutch car today, the DAF 55, not because of interesting qualities about the car specifically – of which it has plenty – but because of the name. Or number. Are numbers names? I guess they can be; there was a character in the comic strip Peanuts that was named 555 95472, after all. Which, now that I think about it, was pretty prescient of how Elon Musk names his kids. But that’s not why I chose the DAF 55. It’s because today I am 55 years old.

And before I talk about the car, I have to talk about how deeply and unexpectedly strange it is to be 55, an age that is, by the standards I hold for other people, old. If I read something in the news about a person who, say, held up a convenience store with a salami and they note that the perp was a 55 year old male, I think huh, that dude seems too old for that manner of shennanigan. And yet that’s my age.

I feel a little weird even admitting I’m 55 because our youth-adulating culture still makes being old seem somehow embarassing, which doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense. Barring unfortunate endings, we’re all going to age, and I hope all of you see 55 and far beyond. So why should I feel weird about being an old bastard who has hit the double nickel in terms of solar orbits?

Then there’s the unshakable feeling that aging – adulthood in particular – is all a scam. In my head, I barely feel any different than I did at most points in my life? I’m still the same idiot I’ve always been, I’m just better about keeping quiet when things don’t go my way – which seems to be the essence of what we think of as being an adult – but beyond that, in my head I don’t feel like what I imagined a 55 year old person would feel like when I was a kid.

This also means that I now suspect perhaps nobody really is an “adult” in the imagined sense and this whole idea of adulthood is just a bill of goods we’ve been sold to keep everyone calm, but the world is, in fact, run by people just as immature and insipid as they were when you were growing up with them in school, listening to them lie about how far they got in a video game and throwing rocks at squirrels, only now they, you know, are an alderperson somewhere.

Anyway, today I’m 55, somehow, and I have no idea what to do about that beyond mostly ignoring it and using it as an excuse to talk about the DAF 55.

The DAF 55 was a big deal because it was DAF’s first car to move past their old air-cooled flat-twin and into a more modern engine. I love air-cooled flat-anythings, but considering the time and place, I understand why DAF was looking for new options. They reached out to Renault, who sold them a version of their 1.1-liter inline-four from the R8, just reversed from its usual position in the back of that Renault.

This engine made about 50 horsepower, making this DAF the most powerful one yet! They still managed to squeeze the spare tire up front, as you can see above, and there’s a nice big gap to see under the car in there, or maybe stand in, if you’re thin enough, too.

Even with this new engine – and new front suspension! – DAF still stuck with the key technological innovation that made them notable, their Variomatic transmission, essentially the first continuously-variable transmission to be sold in a mass-market car.

Look at those belts! I wonder if 50 hp was about the upper limit for what those could handle?

This newfound power seemed to go to DAF’s heads, at least a little, as some of the brochure photography hinted at racing prowess, though, based on the composition of this photograph, with that trophy just out of reach, maybe they were a bit realistic as well.

Giovanni Michelotti designed the DAF 55, and I think the result was a really clean and handsome car. There were multiple versions, like the coupé seen above, and what the hell, below:

…and I really like the sort of cartoony proportions, which it carries, but still feels a little sleek. The sedan version looks pretty good as well, though I think the fastback roofline of the coupé version works a bit better. Still, it’s a handsome little two-door sedan:

A bit later there was a wagon version as well, still only two doors, or three, if you like counting a hatch as a door, which I know lots of people do.

I think that split-pane rear side window is because the rear passenger window pops out for ventilation, which must have been welcome for those little Dutch kids stuck in the back seat.

The DAF brochure for the wagon has a pretty great crammed-full-of-luggage picture, one of my favorite genres of automotive photography, and includes a nice set of matching luggage and some good bits of  sporting goods – badminton racquets and a bold, proud shuttlecock, along with a toy boat, fishing rods, and a stuffed rabbit in what looks like a gingham shirt, orange overalls, and a face and body language that suggest that rabbit is drunk off his ass.

I once got to drive a DAF 55 about 20 feet. It was still a treat!