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Is it really possible that not a single Camaro has appeared in Car Lust up to this point? That’s believe since I’ve lusted after virtually every Camaro made since the model’s debut in 1967. Yes, I briefly had a mullet in the early 1990s. I wore it proudly, thank you.

The 1970 Camaro, though, in my mind is not a mullet car. At least it doesn’t have to be a mullet car; to me, the 1970 Camaro is desirable because of its graceful, understated, almost European lines that stood in stark contrast to the aggressively blocky and testosterone-filled styling and graphics that characterized its Detroit stablemates at the time.

My first exposure to the 1970 Camaro came in the form of a 1988 retrospective that pictured the 1970 Camaro in RS trim in tasteful metal-flake charcoal gray. It was stunningly clean and purposeful, like a subtle gray shark stalking quietly and menacingly through the muscle car waters–the kind of car that wouldn’t be laughed at in Stuttgart.

People might laugh today at such a statement, but I think the popular tendency to disparage 1970s automobilia has whitewashed a strong start to that decade by GM’s styling department. Both the Camaro and Vega, in particular, were stylish, clean, sleek designs that wouldn’t have been out-of-place as European sports coupes.

With the full range of high-performance engines all the way up to the hero 375-horsepower 396 V-8, and including the new LT-1 360-horsepower 350, the Camaro could still bring just as much muscle to the table as its predecessor. But as with the styling, the flavor of the car became subtler and more European. While the car shared a platform and many components with the 1969 Camaro, both handling and ride had been dramatically improved. The interior was also given an upgrade.

The 1970 Camaro lives in my heart as one of the most gorgeous muscle cars made, and a brief moment of glory for the breed. It married the best of the first-generation Camaro’s thick, muscular styling and burly, brawling V-8s with a new style and sophistication, making it equally as comfortable on long, fast blasts along twisty highways as it was at the local drive-in.

Of course, the picture quickly soured. As with its sister Chevelle, 1970 was the apex, followed by a rapid collapse. The Camaro was not immune to the unholy trinity of rising gas prices, ever more restrictive pollution regulations, and skyrocketing insurance premiums that killed off muscle cars en masse. In 1971, the Camaro’s line of V-8’s began their inexorable power drain, and the first of several crippling worker strikes presaged the Camaro’s further decline in the 1970s.

It is astonishingly difficult to find photos of the 1970 Camaro as I remember it; most ‘70 Camaros have now been painted stupid colors and had tacky, garish bodywork added, spoiling the delicate touch of the original styling. The Camaro looked great in full muscle-car regalia, to be sure, but in this generation I think the innocuous cars almost look nicer.

I wish I could show off the gorgeous charcoal Camaro that I fell in love with, but unfortunately I don’t have those photos. The top photo is of a plain-Jane brown Camaro from Flickr user mediumpimpin4rnr; the two pictures of the striped silver Camaro come from Patriot Racing USA, which just finished restoring and rebuilding it.

The two commercials? Well, I won’t give them the full Car Lust commercial treatment, but the first commercial deserves these bullet points:

• You know how you sometimes instinctively hate somebody and want to punch them without reason? It’s the kind of hatred that taps directly into the id. I’m far from a violent guy, but two seconds into my first viewing of this commercial I knew I was already tired of this guy’s smug little act and wanted to punch him in the gut. Don’t worry, I’ll take my medication.
• “What is it? It’s the new Camaro, that’s what it is.” With his weird enunciation, it’s like he’s trying to be a noir detective. “The new Camaro? Well, it accelerates like it’s being chased by the hounds of hell; hey, I can relate. But enough about my love life.” <lights cigarette>
• I think we should search for the guy who invented “hugger” as a hip piece of lexicon the late 1960s and force him to watch this commercial to realize just how dumb it sounds. All of my vintage car magazines of the time use “hugger” as a bit of lingo, and it doesn’t read any better than it sounds here. The Camaro is the “Super Hugger?” So it’s really affectionate, or what?
• “It’s a whole new kind of car for a whole new kind of people … who really dig driving.” Yeah, far out–because people only started to like driving in 1970.
• “More glass, less chrome, more class.” This is true, but it’s entertaining that the guy in the polyester suit and the really wide multi-hued brown tie is pointing out the Camaro’s new class.
• “The new Camaro; that’s what it is.” I’d thought we already got that out of the way, but okay.
• Yes, he called it the Super Hugger again. My skin is crawling.
• “It’s not how young you are; it’s how old you aren’t.” What?

The second commercial is a little more traditional, though I was hoping the comedic interplay between the daughter and father at the end would turn into an all-out confrontation ending in bitter incrimination. “The New Camaro–worth fighting with your family over.” Of course, that’s probably my post-Seinfeld sensibility talking.

–Chris H.