Going Topless

By Daren Fonda

Ford loves customers like Gail Reed. Last April, a few months before 0% financing wiped out profit margins on such standard models as Windstars and Tauruses, Reed, an Atlanta accountant, saw a picture of a pearl-white Thunderbird convertible and fell in love. She agreed to pay the full $39,000 sticker price and willingly waited nearly a year for delivery, driving off with her baby a few weeks ago. "I've always owned sensible cars," says Reed, 43 and single. "Then I started thinking, this T-Bird is a great-looking, fun car. If I'm ever going to have one, why not now?"

More and more drivers are asking the same question, resurrecting the ragtop from near extinction. And not just at Ford. Today the market is flooded with 30 convertibles, up from about a dozen six years ago. Over the same period, registration of new convertibles is up 63%, according to R.L. Polk & Co. The new fleet ranges from family-oriented cruisers like the Toyota Camry Solara to such trophy hot rods as the Lexus SC 430. At next week's New York International Auto Show, carmakers from Audi to Mercedes will show off new models. Even Chevy's pickup division is joining the fray, with a "sport roadster" set to roll into showrooms in 2003.

What accounts for the revival of convertibles? Automakers seem to have rediscovered a couple of old maxims about the sexy beasts: they can be profit machines, and they drive showroom traffic, bathing an otherwise humdrum line of sedans with an aura of cool. Honda's S2000, for example, is a curvaceous hot rod that's a hit with critics and customers. Honda limits supply to maintain overheated demand, so you can forget about a rebate. But volume isn't the point. Says spokesman Andy Boyd: "We want people to think Honda is about cars that are sporty and fun."

Automakers have also learned that a convertible need not handle like a Porsche to turn a profit. Consider Toyota's Solara convertible, based on an aging Camry platform. Says analyst Michael Bruynesteyn of Prudential Securities: "It's basically a chop," meaning that Toyota grafted a soft top onto the Solara with minimal changes to the rest of the car. Toyota sold 7,600 units when it introduced the vehicle in 2000, charging about $5,000 more than for the comparable hardtop. The convertible shares a platform with seven other vehicles, so if interest in the ragtop wanes, the automaker can easily shift production.

Chrysler and Volkswagen are also racing to produce convertible derivatives to bolster slowing sales of the PT Cruiser and New Beetle. "We're at the point where we need a spark in the lineup," says VW spokesman Tony Fouladpour. "It's a way to keep [up] interest in the car." It's also a way to jack up the price. The New Beetle convertible could hit $30,000, vs. about $20,000 for the standard model.

Today's fleet is both more comfortable and safer than the generation of '70s-era Pontiac GTOs. Higher-tensile steels enable manufacturers to make frames that vibrate less and are stiffer and lighter (the bane of convertibles past was lumbering weight and rattle). "Airflow management" is now a priority--with windshields shaped to reduce wind so you can actually hear that nine-speaker stereo. And upscale roadsters like the Mercedes SL500 feature pop-up roll bars that can deploy in a third of a second. (Such bars, however, won't necessarily save you in a rollover. The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration doesn't test convertibles for rollover safety, but a spokesman cautions that in general the bars' effectiveness may be limited.)

Consumers in their mid-50s to mid-60s spend 30% more on cars than any comparable group, and as the huge baby boom generation moves into that age bracket, carmakers are naturally catering to their latest tastes. Says Steve Barnes, 68, of Atlanta, owner of a snazzy Lexus SC 430: "I've been through the minivans and SUVs, and I was looking for a fun experience."

But it doesn't necessarily take a $62,000 car to get that American Graffiti feeling. Consider the Massey family of Birmingham, Ala. Brothers Mark and James, both fathers in their 30s, say they're happy cruising in their mid-priced Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyders. "At almost every red light," says Mark, "someone wants to race me." That rebel spirit is catchy. After their mother June--a 60-year-old nurse--took a spin, she bought a Spyder too.

--With reporting by Leslie Everton Brice/Atlanta, Frank Sikora/Birmingham and Joe Szczesny/Detroit

With reporting by Leslie Everton Brice/Atlanta, Frank Sikora/Birmingham and Joe Szczesny/Detroit