Cabriolet Conundrum

This spring, I’ve been thinking a lot about early Ford cabriolets. Less desirable than the usual roadsters and coupes, they have an unmistakable charm to them. In a way, they feel like a slightly more cartoony roadster—maybe like one you’d draw as a kid when you couldn’t figure out how to make the windshield quite right. Top up or top down, they have a great deal to offer.

A few weeks ago, my daydreams brought me to my laptop, and I began clacking away at my usual searches. Hot rod, flathead, early Ford, survivor, you know how it goes. When digitally digging on the East Coast, I came across a car that folks here may take interest in.

What we have is a 1933 Ford cabriolet, originally hot rodded in the 1960s. Although it seems as if it’s been used as a shelf for sheetmetal as of late, signs of its storied past come through loud and clear. I was immediately drawn to the flames—swirling and curling with fades of purple and blue streaking across the doors onto the quarter panels. Inside, there’s a stock dash with additional instruments front and center, as well as black diamond-tuck door panels. Out back, 1941 Chevy taillights with blue dots complete the picture.

If you look closely at the top of the door, you can see that this car once belonged to Marty. What form it took in its prime is anyone’s guess, but I can tell you what I’d do if I got it. I’d channel it eight inches and drop in an early smallblock backed by a ’39 trans and a closed driveline. The headers would be VHT white. It would get a Deuce grille shell, Deitz lights, and 15-inch steelies with full wheelcovers and bias-ply blackwalls. The bench seat would be upholstered to match.

I’d drive it every day. How about you? What would you do with this ’33 Ford cabriolet?

—Joey Ukrop

Bonus Inspiration

You know, something like this, but a cabriolet.