Driving around the other day, my gaze was caught by a vehicle that was remarkably unremarkable: the Toyota Solara Car. It’s a strange phenomenon, perhaps a side effect of analyzing countless cars, but the sheer ordinariness of some vehicles now grabs my attention precisely because of their blandness. This particular encounter was with a Toyota Solara, or technically, a Toyota Camry Solara. However, much like many aspects of this car, the Camry part often feels like an afterthought.
Here’s the Solara that triggered this reflection. I managed to snap a photo, somewhat surprised that my camera could even register something so visually… neutral.
Generic. That’s the word that springs to mind. Even in its coupé form, typically associated with a more dynamic and exciting car, the Solara car exudes a profound sense of boredom. What’s truly fascinating about the Solara is that it was actually intended to be the exciting Camry. It was meant to be the zestier, more stylish sibling to the dependable but decidedly unthrilling Camry sedan.
Automotive journalists have previously pondered the Solara’s existence, questioning its raison d’être. The concept was to blend Toyota’s legendary Camry reliability with a design that could actually inspire desire, moving beyond the Camry’s appeal rooted in consumer reports and practicality spreadsheets.
This ambition is precisely what makes the Solara car so remarkably… underwhelming. The goal was to inject some passion into the Camry formula, but the result was more akin to administering a sedative and removing two doors. Toyota’s designers somehow managed to create a coupé that was arguably even less stimulating than their four-door sedan counterpart.
One can almost imagine a fictional “Japanese Council of Boredom Cultivation” bestowing upon Toyota a prestigious “Taupe Ribbon” award for this achievement in automotive neutrality.
Just look at it. Visually, it’s the automotive equivalent of bland, boiled food – utterly inoffensive and equally unmemorable.
That’s the 2000 model, the first iteration of the Solara car. In 2003, Toyota’s team, seemingly dedicated to minimizing visual interest, took another shot at refining the Solara:
Still inoffensive. They attempted another refresh in 2005, pushing the boundaries of automotive blandness even further:
It’s as if their design inspiration board was comprised of beige paint swatches, turkey cold cuts, and photos of suburban parking lots. The dedication to automotive anonymity is almost admirable.
Technically, there was nothing inherently wrong with the Solara car. It inherited the Camry’s dependable and competent drivetrain, offering a range of engines from inline-four options to a V6, delivering horsepower figures from a modest 135 to a respectable 200.
The suspension prioritized ride comfort over sporty handling, resulting in a driving experience that was, predictably, unexciting. While some models offered a five-speed manual transmission, and a degree of driving enjoyment could theoretically be extracted, there were countless more engaging and interesting vehicles available.
Let’s not forget the Toyota Solara convertible, a truly remarkable feat of making an open-top car boring. In its era, the Solara convertible competed with the Chrysler Sebring convertible for the dubious title of “Most Unexciting Droptop,” a battle of automotive titans in the realm of blandness.
Toyota, in their marketing efforts, attempted to emphasize the Solara car’s supposed excitement, sometimes highlighting the convertible version in ads seemingly aimed at individuals seeking to escape the drudgery of their daily lives.
They even tried to directly contrast it with the four-door Camry, desperately trying to convince consumers that the Solara car offered a significantly more thrilling experience, implying a choice between family life and the slightly less practical, but supposedly more exciting, two-door Camry variant.
Taglines like “An entirely different kind of Camry” were employed, which, at best, was a stretch of the truth. “A somewhat different kind of Camry” would have been a more accurate, albeit less marketable, description.
While acknowledging that the Solara car is perfectly adequate and functional transportation, the notion that it represents a more exciting or interesting alternative to a Camry remains a difficult concept to embrace. It exists in a realm of automotive neutrality, neither offensive nor inspiring, a true embodiment of vehicular blandness.
