Before Lincoln was stuffing SUVs with 30 speakers and massage chairs, it was chasing the future. Streamlined, sculptural, and very, very twelve-cylindered.
Enter the Lincoln-Zephyr V12, launched in 1936 with the kind of curves that would make a Delahaye blush. This wasn’t just a luxury car. It was a statement. The Zephyr didn’t follow the rules of pre-war design; it slipped past them in silence, like a well-dressed thief in a Raymond Chandler novel.
Powered by a flathead V12 (initially 4.4 liters, later bumped to 4.8), the Zephyr delivered smooth torque and an even smoother silhouette. The engine was a marvel of compact design… until it wasn’t. Yes, it had a reputation for overheating and short-lived bearings, but hey. High-fashion has its price.
These were cars for architects, ad men, and silver screen villains. You could roll up to a modernist home in the hills and the car matched the house. Or better yet—leave it parked outside Musso & Frank, still ticking from the Sunset crawl, while you slide into a red leather booth and order something brown in a lowball glass.
Today, the Zephyr’s fastback coupe variant still looks futuristic—like a CGI render that somehow got lost in 1938. A flawed masterpiece? Definitely. But in Los Angeles, style has always beat reliability, especially when it comes with twelve cylinders and fender skirts.
Not so fast, but always a clean getaway.