All the Cars Are Ugly

Stephanie Hayes
Fri, 27 Feb 2026 21:00:00 -0800
Lifestyle

Tragically, I have started shopping for a new car.

I drive a 2017 Fiat 500X. His name is Frank, and he has an Italian accent. Though he is far from my first car, he is the first car I have ever truly loved. I found him sitting alone in a beam of light on a Fiat lot, bright red with shining rims, languishing like the last dog at the pound because he was a stick shift. I snagged him up; I have driven stick since high school.

He's still moving fine, if a bit sputtery. My goal as a functional adult participating in society is to trade him in before some costly explosion happens. I want to lovingly part ways without having to sell my hair and teeth like someone in "Les Miserables." I want to separate from Frank on a high note in the manner of a British sitcom. What I mean is, I don't want to drag him into Season 10 just because I am afraid to let go.
Updated: Sat Feb 28, 2026

Tragically, I have started shopping for a new car.

I drive a 2017 Fiat 500X. His name is Frank, and he has an Italian accent. Though he is far from my first car, he is the first car I have ever truly loved. I found him sitting alone in a beam of light on a Fiat lot, bright red with shining rims, languishing like the last dog at the pound because he was a stick shift. I snagged him up; I have driven stick since high school.

He's still moving fine, if a bit sputtery. My goal as a functional adult participating in society is to trade him in before some costly explosion happens. I want to lovingly part ways without having to sell my hair and teeth like someone in "Les Miserables." I want to separate from Frank on a high note in the manner of a British sitcom. What I mean is, I don't want to drag him into Season 10 just because I am afraid to let go.

I'm interested in switching to an electric vehicle, maybe leasing one for a couple years while the makers continue to work out the kinks (please, no screeds on the perils of leasing and/or EVs, I know all about it). There's another part of me that wants a Mustang, which is my midlife crisis screaming.

But what I've come here to do is complain. In addition to being 14,000 times more expensive than they were last time I bought a car, the transportation options are ugly. Ugly! Pedestrian! Uninspired! Boilerplate! Unexceptional! As the kids say, mid!

When did every car turn into a jellybean? A jumbo pickle on wheels? Why must everyone drive around as if they are rearing a JV soccer team? When did the automakers decide that 90% of cars must be fashioned as squished hatchback SUVs with all the flair of khaki Dockers from Sears? Frank is a hatchback SUV, yes, but don't you dare say a bad word about Frank. Only I am allowed to do that.

The thing about Frank that overrides his (cuter than most) shape is his crisp red color. While I have laid eyes on a handful of newer jellybeans in vibrant shades, the majority of cars come in five colors:

Gray

White

Black

Beige

Maroon

Oh, but they aren't called that. They have names like LUXURY SLATE or MIDNIGHT SONG or SKIN CRAYON or RUSTY BLOODLETTING GALAXY. I do not want a jellybean-shaped soccer coach car in SKIN CRAYON for the low-low payment of $600 per month. That does not fill my cup!

Should one want a car in a vibrant color allegedly offered per the literature, good luck. The dealers look at you with heavy, tired eyes and say something like, "I can probably order you one from Nepal, but we have 16 SKIN CRAYONS on the lot right now." For instance, I've seen evidence that the new Nissan Leaf comes in LUMINOUS TEAL. When I inquired with a dealer over text if he had any on the lot, I got, "Do you have time for a quick call?" No! Never! It's a simple question! Who are you, Pam Bondi?

Look, it's simple, really. I want a cool-looking car in a fun color that doesn't cost too much. I want a loyal friend who will take me on my merry way with low drama and a little zesty zip. I want a soothing Italian accent, cara mia. I want...

Dangit, Frank. I told you to get out of here.