While the famed fruit of choice for breakfast tables across the country has many health benefits, I tap the keyboard today to debate absolutely none of those.

My affection/obsession is with the color orange, especially as it applies to automotive paint. The term “orange peel” is a dreaded one when it comes to a car’s finish. This is when the paint takes on the same texture as, you guessed it, an orange peel. This can either require wet-sanding and buffing to smooth out, wet-sanding and clear-coating or depending on the type of paint, completely starting over.

All of those professional techniques aside, my hang-up is on the color itself, and it when it comes to cars, it remains as one of the most maligned over my entire adult life. The problem lies in the vehicle wearing it and the particular shade it happens to be. In my youth, Chrysler Corp. had a thing about wild primary colors. The early 1970s saw lime green, plum purple and hot pink on the musclecars offered by Dodge and Plymouth. My favorite of these was the Plymouth Roadrunner Superbird wearing “Vitamin C Orange.”

A car like the Superbird could easily get away with wearing such a bright primary color, especially since it was named after a cartoon character. The legendary NASCAR track monster was as outlandish as they came back then, so being an attention getter wasn’t one of it’s problems. Chevrolet also offered a shade called Hugger Orange on the Camaro.

While Ford didn’t offer a factory orange color for the Mustang per se, they did offer a variation called Poppy Red that had a definite orange tint. But in 1969, Carroll Shelby changed all that by offering his GT500 in Grabber Orange.

As you can already see, the various shades of orange color have a distinct effect on the look, or should I say the perception of the image of said car. Any car color possesses a certain personality for that vehicle, and unfortunately, orange has not always been the one that attracts the most positive attention. Personally, I am a bigger fan of the versions that came later when metallic flake was added and clearcoats brought a deep luster to the finish.

Burnt Orange is a term popularly used to describe a darker shade but this is where things start to get tricky. Too dark and the color becomes almost brown (and definitely not exciting to look at) then add the effect of pearl topcoats (that have the popular color change reaction to light) and the car looks totally different in sunlight or shadow. Pontiac offered a beautiful version of this called Sunset Orange Metallic that had a gorgeous luster in direct sun, yet still retained a more bronze hue in shadow. This is one of my favorite versions (both car and color)

Less than a decade later, Mitsubishi offered a similar color called Sunset Pearlescent, and on the Eclipse Spyder GT, it was a striking color. Mitsubishi also carried the theme inside with a unique orange/creme accent interior that made the car a look-at-me item everywhere it went. I always liked this car and felt it had the feel of an exotic at an everyman price tag. When equipped with the 3.8 V6, the little drop-top was a hairdo-wrecking rocketship. A fitting machine to wear such a brash color. (Dat’s an attention getter)

More recently, Chrysler (FCA now Stellantis) took another swing in its plethora of retro touches for its Dodge Charger and Challenger. Go Mango was an orange that hearkened back to the old Vitamin C, but a few years later, they offered a heavy pearl version that showcases everything wrong with the concept. The color is called Canyon Sunset on a Chrysler300 but on the Charger and Challenger its called Sinamon Stick. In bright light, it puts on a dazzling show of sparkling metallic and sunburst shine. Turn off the direct sun and the car falls into the full brown/bronze color range. I’m not sure who thought this was a good combination, but it does absolutely nothing for me…except make me walk away from an otherwise attractive machine.

I honestly began to feel that one of my favorite color versions would never make a comeback. I’ve honestly considered having my convertible repainted but color change done right is prohibitively expensive these days. (I could quite literally buy another car)

A few weeks ago, someone parked a Nissan Murano out front of the store where I work. The vehicle sat there for hours from afternoon to evening, making a light showcase of its color. The color is called (this one’s a mouthful) Sunset Drift Chromaflair…ummm, yeah? At any rate, crazy name aside, this version of orange gets it closer to right than I’ve seen in a while. A glistening metallic in sunshine, settling into a more subtle “burnt orange” (there, even I said it) as the sun went down. I was impressed to say the least. I’ve seriously considered opting for another SUV in my driveway. Despite my general disdain for them as a segment, they are undeniably useful, and the Nissan Murano is one of the better looking of the breed. The curvy body lines give the metallic paint lots of edges to show off, reminding me of the sexy lines of my Pontiac Bonneville.

In lieu of another SUV, Nissan offers a couple of sporty sedans as well. The Maxima, which years ago pitched itself as the “4-Door Sports Car,” which might still be applicable with a 300hp V6 under the hood. Slightly more economy minded (not just in price) is the Altima, which has more than a little Maxima DNA showing. The SR trim is the more sport-oriented, especially if its equipped with Nissan’s amazing new VC-Turbo 2.0 engine. 240hp and 270ft/lbs of torque are no slouch in this small-ish sedan, but to top that off with near 40mpg hi-way economy is truly amazing.

But, I would be remiss if I failed to mention the first orange car I ever owned. My 1976 Plymouth Volare Roadrunner. At the time of purchase, it wore a color called Spitfire Orange, which was in fact, a good deal more red. After a drunk in a Cadillac decided to rumple the driver side for me, the following trip to the body shop afforded me an opportunity. We added a metallic to the 70s Hemi Orange with just a touch of pearl. Actually, it was due to infusing so much metallic clear that the color became slightly muted. In any case the end result was fantastic and this digital scan of an old Polaroid photo does it little justice. You might say I’ve been chasing a boyhood moment for many years. It turns out I’ve had the Orange A-Peel for a rather long time.

Maybe someday another orange machine will grace my driveway, but in the meantime, I’ll keep looking for the perfect shade to swoon over.

T. August Green