Six Feet of Hood, Zero Regrets: The Absurd Majesty of the Continental Diamond Jubilee
Refinement Optional, Presence Mandatory
As the mid ‘70s approached, most people could no longer afford to top off at every other gas station, but if you could, the massive hood, opera windows, and fake spare tire hump of the 1978 Lincoln Continental Mark V Diamond Jubilee made sure everyone knew it. This was no mere car. This was a statement piece, a rolling monument to mid-century American indulgence. When new, the Continental Diamond Jubilee cost the equivalent of nearly $100,000 today, and was Ford Motor Company’s longest and most expensive coupe ever produced. Before German luxury cars had fully captivated Americans and redefined luxury, it was purely about excess, and as a result, refinement, groundbreaking innovation, and practicality rarely took priority. Who cared if your luxury coupe refused to turn, accelerate or stop? As long as there was a six foot long hood, an ashtray reachable from any seat, and a Lincoln badge in your line of sight, you were golden. In an era of downsizing and pragmatism, the Diamond Jubilee was a bold, opulent anomaly, and the sight of one on the road to day has become refreshing.
Harvard Said No, Skynyrd Said Hell Yes
Before I say much more about Continental Diamond Jubilee, allow me to lay the groundwork. When the 85 mph speedometer had taken center stage during The Malaise Era, increasing emissions regulations and rising fuel costs caused land yachts like these to begin falling out of favor with lawyers and businessmen who saw the need for more practical luxury cars. By the mid ‘70s, the Harvard professor types wanted the face of luxury to feel sophisticated and modern rather than bedazzled and flamboyant, and likely opted for palomino MB-Tex rather than crushed velvet. Instead, you were more likely to spot a high-rolling river boat gambler snoring in the driver’s seat of the Diamond Jubilee, Lynyrd Skynyrd wailing from the 8-track, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and Winstons. Owning and driving a Diamond Jubilee Mark V in 1978, in the middle of a gas crisis, was less about transportation and more about giving the middle finger to rationality. The Mark V could be optioned with a 400 or 460 cubic inch V8, which today sound like weapons of mass combustion. Back then? Not so much, thanks to primitive emissions equipment that choked the life out of what otherwise had the potential to be powerful V8s, and only netted you an additional 2 MPG if you were lucky. It may have been designed for the open road, but it accelerated like it was waiting for permission from the EPA. However, American luxo-barges like the Mark V asked not for your practical side, but for your loyalty to The Big Three. In a time when everyone else was downsizing and turning to imports, the Boss Hogg types were doubling down and grinning smugly as everyone else squirmed in their Toyotas.
More Vinyl Than a Record Store
As American cars entered the Malaise Era, opulent luxury was inherently impractical, which might have been the only characteristic that kept cars like this Continental Mark V fairly exclusive. If you’ve ever wanted a two-door coupe that guzzles gas like a Suburban, stretches longer than your in-laws’ goodbyes, and offers the legroom of a Corolla, then the Lincoln Continental Mark V is your dream ride. Occupant safety, while decent compared to a Pinto, wasn’t the result of cutting-edge innovation—it came courtesy of massive chrome bumpers and a six-foot hood. Meanwhile, pedestrian safety took a back seat to acres of flat American steel and excessive overhang. The Diamond Jubilee edition, Built to commemorate the 75th anniversary of Ford Motor Company, brought the absurdity to the next level. The Diamond Jubilee didn’t whisper luxury, it screamed it through a gold-plated megaphone. You got padded landau roofs, gold-colored grille accents, and thick, lazy-boy-style seats wide enough to seat a small wedding party. The dashboard, a geometric fever dream, featured a Cartier clock front and center in the instrument cluster. Opera windows embedded in the vinyl wrapped C pillars featured faux diamond inserts, and even the Continental spare tire hump was covered in padded vinyl. Subtle was not in its vocabulary, and as time would pass, German cars would redefine the essence of luxury as a feeling rather than a style, by focusing on material quality and refined driving characteristics rather than extravagant looks. As a result, lavish luxury vessels like this Mark V Diamond Jubilee would fade into obscurity, which makes the sight of one today uniquely charming.
A Gold-Plated Middle Finger to Modern Luxury
In an era where most luxury cars whisper their status through clean lines, brushed aluminum, and vegan leather, the Diamond Jubilee still bellows with unapologetic excess. Its charm lies in its refusal to age quietly or blend in. It’s a time capsule from when luxury wasn’t defined by heated seats or touchscreens, but by how deeply your velour seat cushioned your regrets and how much vinyl could be glued to a single body panel. Today, there truly is no modern equivalent of the Continental Diamond Jubilee, and when you look at one, you can’t help but think “what a time to be alive!” The Diamond Jubilee is too big, too thirsty, and too garish for today’s standards, but that’s what makes it feel so honest! It wasn’t trying to be tasteful. It was trying to be unforgettable. And in doing so, it became the last gasp of an era when American luxury was all about pageantry, pride, and the intoxicating scent of V8 fumes, and maybe some whiskey breath.
Luxury So Loud It Echoes Decades Later
The Diamond Jubilee wasn’t a car, it was a mobile living room with a V8 and opera windows. It guzzled gas and handled like a waterbed on wheels, but who cared? With enough chrome to blind a welder and seats wide enough to host Thanksgiving dinner, it flipped the bird to logic and gave a bear hug to excess. Regardless of how you feel about it, it deserves to be remembered, because you just might not see anything that resembles it ever again.