Step into a 1970s car and almost everything about the cabin feels different. There were no touchscreens, no cup holders in many models, and no airbags. There were chrome knobs, woodgrain panels and switches that clicked. Car enthusiast websites and nostalgia lists regularly point to the same set of features that have vanished from showrooms. The thirteen below come from those lists and from general automotive history, and they range from the practical to the purely decorative. Some disappeared because of safety rules, some because of cost and some because tastes changed. Not every feature was a good idea, and many were genuinely inconvenient. But each one says something about what drivers wanted in the decade, and younger drivers who have never seen them may find them oddly charming.
Manual crank windows were standard on most 1970s cars, and many younger drivers have never used one. A handle on the door turned a mechanism that raised and lowered the glass, and it gave you direct feedback. Cranks were cheap, light and rarely failed in the way electric motors do. They also meant that rolling down the window required effort, a minor annoyance at drive-through windows. Power windows became more common in the decade, particularly on luxury cars, and they gradually spread to every model. The crank has largely disappeared from new cars, though a few budget vehicles kept it for years. Anyone who has turned a stubborn handle to let in a breeze knows the simple satisfaction of a mechanical connection.
Ashtrays and cigarette lighters were standard in most 1970s cars. They sat in the dashboard, in the center console and sometimes in the rear doors, because smoking was common. The lighter was a coil that glowed orange when pressed in, and it popped out when it was hot. Today most cars have a power outlet in the same place, and the old lighter socket became the standard for phone chargers and accessories. Ashtrays have virtually disappeared from new models. They are an artifact of a different era, and seeing one in a vintage car can feel like opening a time capsule. Collectors often find that the original ashtray is still in good condition, since many owners never used them.
A bench seat stretched across the whole front of the cabin, and it seated three. The shifter was on the steering column, which left the floor open. A date could slide across the seat, and a family could squeeze in an extra passenger. Over time, safety regulations and the rise of center consoles led to individual bucket seats. Consoles offered cup holders, storage and a place for infotainment controls, and they became a selling point. Bench seats have mostly disappeared, though some full-size trucks still offer them. The sensation of a wide, plush seat and a column shifter is a reminder of how cars were used as living rooms. For drivers who have only known bucket seats, it is a strange and spacious experience.
Big hood ornaments showed up on nearly every car of the era, not only on luxury models. Mercedes had its three-pointed star, Rolls-Royce its Spirit of Ecstasy, and American brands used leaping animals, rockets and shields. They gave a car a sense of identity and made the hood look longer. Pedestrian safety rules and changing taste led manufacturers to drop them, and many ornaments were designed to fold away on impact. Today a few luxury brands still use them, often as retractable parts. A hood ornament was a tiny piece of sculpture that you could see from the driver's seat, and it gave the road ahead a focal point. Collectors still seek original ornaments for restorations.
Chrome bumpers were once a defining feature, big and shiny and solid enough to take a light bump. In the early 1970s, rules required bumpers that could withstand low-speed impacts, and some cars got larger, heavier bumpers as a result. Over time, manufacturers moved to body-colored plastic and integrated designs. Chrome bumpers gave a car a polished, jewelry-like look, and they were easy to clean. They were also expensive to replace and prone to rust. Collectors prize chrome-bumper models, and in many cases they are more valuable than later rubber-bumper versions. Looking at one today, it is clear how much of a car's character came from simple, reflective metal at the front and rear.
Rear window louvers were slatted panels that fit over the back glass of sporty cars. On the Mustang Mach 1 and similar models they were a popular option, and they looked aggressive. They also shaded the interior from the sun and gave the car a distinctive profile. Visibility out of the back was reduced, which is one reason they disappeared from the mainstream. Today they are mostly seen on restored muscle cars and on a few modern throwbacks. Fitting them can be a way to give a classic its period-correct look. The louvers were an example of styling that served no real purpose except to make a car look fast, and that was reason enough in the 1970s.
Pop-up headlights hid in the bodywork when not in use and rotated or lifted into place at the flick of a switch. They allowed designers to create low, sleek noses while meeting headlight height rules. Cars from Porsche to Corvette to Mazda used them, and a sleepy-eyed look became a hallmark of sports cars. Pedestrian safety rules and aerodynamic concerns led to their disappearance in the early 2000s, and the last production cars to use them, the Chevrolet Corvette and the Lotus Esprit, ended their runs in 2004. They were a fun theatrical touch, especially when both lights winked at once. Fans of retro design often call for their return, but modern regulations make that unlikely.
Some muscle cars of the era put the tachometer on the hood, in a small pod near the windshield. The idea was to let the driver watch engine speed without looking down into the cabin. Pontiac, Dodge and Plymouth offered versions of the feature, and it became a symbol of performance. In practice, the gauge could be hard to read in sunlight and was sometimes tricky to wire. It added drama to the front of the car, and some owners remember the odd experience of glancing past the hood to check revs. Modern cars show engine speed in a digital cluster, and hood tachs are only seen on restored cars. They are a flashy detail that made a car look ready to race.
Woodgrain was everywhere in the 1970s, on dashboards, door panels and even the exterior of station wagons. The wood was often vinyl or printed plastic, and it gave the interior a warm, living-room feel. On wagons, the fake-wood side panels became an icon of family travel. Tastes shifted toward black plastic in the 1980s, and woodgrain became a symbol of an out-of-date style. Today there is renewed interest in vintage cars, and those panels have a nostalgic appeal. Real wood is still used in luxury cars, but the playful faux version is rare. Seeing a woodgrain wagon at a car show brings back memories of road trips and summer vacations for many people.
Velour was the fabric of choice for 1970s interiors, soft and plush with a faint sheen. It came in bold colors like burgundy, brown and deep blue, and the seats often had tufted patterns. The fabric felt luxurious in cool weather and sticky in summer. It was also a magnet for dust and stains, which is part of why it fell out of favor. Cloth and leather replaced it as tastes changed. Today restorers go to great lengths to find original velour, and it is prized for its authenticity. Sitting in a velour seat can feel like sitting in a favorite armchair, which is exactly what designers had in mind. It is a texture younger drivers rarely encounter in new cars.
T-tops let drivers remove two roof panels while keeping a center bar for rigidity. They offered open-air driving without the structural compromises of a convertible. The feature became closely associated with the Chevrolet Corvette, the Pontiac Trans Am and the Datsun 280ZX. Owners loved the feel of the sun and breeze, though leaks and squeaks were common. Panels were stored in the trunk or behind the seats. Modern sunroofs and panoramic roofs have replaced them, and T-tops are now a nostalgic feature. A T-top car on a clear day is a reminder that the 1970s found creative ways to make driving more fun. For many fans, the pop of the latches is part of the memory.
The 8-track player was the standard in-car entertainment system through much of the decade. Each cartridge held a looped tape with four programs, and the player clicked as it switched between them. Albums were often split awkwardly across tracks, and the sound could waver, but the format allowed people to play music they chose, not only what was on the radio. It was replaced by the compact cassette, then the CD, then streaming. Old 8-track players still turn up in vintage cars, and some collectors enjoy restoring them. The thunk of a cartridge going in is a sound that evokes the decade for many people. It also marks how quickly in-car media has changed, from one format to the next.
Citizens band radios became a craze in the mid-1970s, helped by a fuel crisis, a national speed limit and a wave of trucker pop culture. Drivers installed CB sets with long antennas so they could share warnings about traffic and police. Handles, or nicknames, and shorthand phrases became part of the culture. The fad faded in the 1980s as other technology arrived, but the radios are still used by truckers and off-road groups. In a classic car, a CB radio under the dash is a time capsule of a moment when ordinary drivers felt connected on the open road. Modern drivers use phone apps for the same purpose, yet the radio's sense of community and its antenna are hard to replace.