If you've never seen a beautiful woman in designer clothes and 4-inch heels drive a vintage car through the Hollywood Hills, you're really missing out.
Dita Von Teese could give lessons on how to do it right. She recently drove me to the top of Griffith Park in her 1931 Packard. It was a sweltering day in L.A. The lady didn't break a sweat.
"The 1930s were the most elegant years for cars," Von Teese, 39, told me in her throaty drawl. "The Packard is notoriously the kind of car that gangsters drove: They were fast, they were slick, they were cool."
The burlesque icon has quite a history with classic cars. She bought her first one decades ago and gradually traded up, accumulating increasingly valuable cars as her knowledge grew. Now she owns three: A 1946 Ford convertible, a 1953 Cadillac, and that French Blue Packard.
Each car has its own personality. The Packard is sleek and powerful, the emerald Cadillac a bit of a bombshell--it was driven by Marilyn Monroe--and the convertible pure glamour. ("It makes you smile," Von Teese says about the burgundy droptop.)
Key to owning such particular vehicles is understanding their differences enough to know whether or not they'll work in a lasting relationship. It's a little like dating.
"It's a tricky thing, learning what the right car for you is," Von Teese says. "When you drive a vintage car it's very personal. I've had a lot of vintage cars that I didn't get along with very well, and I ended up saying this isn't the car for me."
A certain Jaguar that will remain nameless presented a particular challenge a few years back. It didn't last long.
Sometimes finding the right car is the least of Von Teese's worries. Los Angeles itself can be difficult for vintage aficionados: Inattentive drivers, endless construction and crippling traffic all pose threats. Also, jerks.
"People don't understand that these cars don't stop the same way new cars do," the Detroit native says. "It's not that the braking systems are bad, it's just that it's a lot heavier than a modern car, so it's really hard to drive in this city, especially when people are grouchy and in a hurry."
Von Teese usually sticks to driving her older cars to ballet class and the grocery store. She doesn't drive in the winter. It also helps that she has the perfect attitude for cruising, which she learned from past boyfriends and lovers who taught her to appreciate the cars.
"You can't be in a hurry when you drive these cars," she says. "They're meant to be driven and enjoyed." (She does tote scripts on her daily drives, though, just in case she ends up with some rather unexpected free time beside the road.)
In fact, Von Teese is a big proponent of vintage culture in general. She once adhered to the rule that everything she'd wear on a given day--from shoes and hats to stockings and lingerie--had to be from the same year, say, 1947. These days she's less strict in her sartorial specifications but no less devoted to the idea that vintage goods carry more significance than something brand-new. She doesn't find herself drawn to any modern cars--they just don't have the character.
"I like having old things around me because there's a certain artfulness and craftsmanship that isn't possible now," she says. "There was a time when everything was made with a certain aesthetic for beauty and art, and there are a lot of modern things that that's not important to the people designing them."
The great thing about her obsession, she says, is it doesn't cost a lot of money. Of course it can cost a lot--vintage cars require special attention to maintain and drive, and models from Bentley or Duesenberg cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. But it's also possible to get good deals at auction, as Von Teese has done with her stable.
The key is committing to doing the research and then having the patience to wait until you find the perfect fit. Who knows? It could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
Follow me on Twitter: @HannahElliott
