Hot Couture: 1951 Saoutchik Delahaye 235 Roadster Drive

Motor Trend

23-05-2025

[Editor's Note: This article first appeared in the Spring 2011 issue of MotorTrend Classic] Haute Couture is the French term for the handmade designer fashions that drape the world's top fashionistas and populate New York, Paris, and Milan's most important runway shows. The term, loosely translated, means 'high sewing' or 'high dressmaking,' and this voluptuous, hyper-elegant Delahaye certainly qualifies. It's not uncommon for wealthy folks to have their clothing custom designed and handmade. Nor, prior to World War II, was it uncommon for those of means to purchase a chassis from the carmaker of their choice (which could have been Duesenberg, Lincoln, Cadillac, Package, Delage, Delahaye, Alfa Romeo, or Bugatti), then have it delivered to their preferred coachbuilder (a carrosserie in French, or carrozzeria in Italian).
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Among the better-known French carrosseries of the day was owned by Jacques Saoutchik. Having immigrated to France from Russia, Saoutchik was one of too few custom coachbuilders who survived World War II. The notion of made-to-order car bodies waned after the Big War, but it remained an option, particularly in Italy, well into the 1960s.
Delahaye, like Delage, was one of France's foremost luxury carmakers and developed its Type 235 chassis as a substantial update of prewar designs. Delahaye constructed 84 Type 235 chassis between 1951 and 1954. This one, chassis number 818005, was destined for a one-off Saoutchik aluminum and steel roadster body, and represented the carrosserie at the October 1951 Paris auto show. The prewar engine was an overhead-valve 3.5-liter inline-six, which received modifications to carburetors and its camshaft profiles, earning a 150-horsepower rating—pretty respectable output in 1951. The Ford flathead V-8 of the day put out about 100 horses, and even Cadillac's new overhead-valve V-8 barely eclipsed the French six with 160. Big American V-8s were of little concern, as the Delahaye 235's prime competition came from relatively luxurious sports cars such as the Jaguar XK120, and some of the larger offerings from Alfa Romeo.
Monsieur Saoutchik and company didn't miss a trick when styling this flowing Grand Tourer. Prewar fixtures such as running boards and freestanding headlights were long gone, although classic French touches remain, such as curvaceous, flowing fenderlines; knock-off wire wheels; doors that open suicide-style; and a relatively short split windscreen. The frontal aspect has an almost American flair to it with a large oval grille opening laced with chrome. It's not nearly as flamboyant as some of the Figoni and Falaschi designs, or those of competing carrosserie Franay, but it's oh so French and very tasteful.
Among the great pleasures of an upper-crust, coachbuilt machine that's been restored to a very high level are the details. Every fitting and casting is of extremely high quality. The instrumentation is finished like jewelry or an antique clock. Handles, knobs, and buttons are substantial, yet feel delicate. Everything you see or touch has a delightful jewel-like quality. One of the more interesting examples of this coachbuilder's art is the hood louvers. They're arranged in a somewhat arrow-shaped pattern on the hood, meaning that each louver is a slightly different size, necessitating a different tool to stamp each one. The car's current silver over medium-blue color scheme isn't original, but it is period correct and fits the car's character and lines perfectly. No other combination could make it more attractive.
Technologically and mechanically, this specially clothed 235 is a fairly straightforward machine. Thumb the starter and the engine lights easily and emits the deep thrum you expect of a well-balanced straight-six. Its most notable 'high tech' trick is its Cotal preselector semi-automatic four-speed gearbox. Unlike modern autoclutch manuals, the Cotal has a clutch pedal, as well as a lever on the floor with which to engage forward or reverse motion. Gear changes are via a small, gated shifter switch mounted on the steering column. It sounds complicated, but couldn't be easier to use. You fire the engine with the clutch pedal depressed.
Assuming you wish to drive forward, you make sure the floor lever is set for forward motion. Then, select first gear, feed in a little throttle, then let out the clutch smoothly as you would a conventional manual gearbox. Rev first gear out to around 3000 rpm or so, let off the throttle, and choose second with the gear selector. Little electromagnetic robots do their thing and the trans upshifts with a mild clunk, then it's on through second and the rest of the gears. It's much the same for downshifts. This Cotal was in fine fettle and operated flawlessly during our drive. They have a reputation for being occasionally temperamental, but this one never hesitated.
A dyno pull on this very engine shows a corrected torque rating of 225 pound-feet at 2500 rpm, so it takes little throttle to pull away from a stop in first gear. Not a lot of revs are required, but exploring the upper-middle portion of the tachometer is an enjoyable pursuit. The engine revs smoothly and the carbs suck air hungrily, and this fine French motor will move out. It's content to potter around with upshifts at around 3000 rpm, but is a lot more fun when run out to 3500-4000 and will comfortably run freeway speeds all day long in fourth. In spite of the relatively large steering wheel, the steering is heavy. There's lots of feel, and it's accurate, with no bump steer and little worry about freeway grooves or undulations. But it takes some muscle to work through low-speed turns and U-turns.
The big drum brakes are no more than adequate, and ask for a fair amount of right leg. Corners are best taken at moderate speeds, as the narrow-section tires don't serve up tremendous grip. But it matters little; this is an elegant, continental Grand Tourer, not a knife-edged sports car. It's very sporty, but its primary mission is elegance and comfortable road-eating. It would be completely at home ferrying you and a special guest across Europe or pulling up to the finest restaurant in Paris or to the casino in Monte Carlo. You as the owner/driver will be regarded as a person of considerable taste and means at any of those tony locales.
The car's current owners, Merle and Peter Mullin, are exactly that. They have long sought, collected, restored, shared, and enjoyed the world's finest French and other Art Deco-era automobiles and are the benefactors and founders of the newly opened Mullin Automotive Museum in Oxnard, California, which occupies the recently remodeled building that formerly housed the collection of Otis Chandler, the late owner and publisher of the Los Angeles Times. If you're ever in the area, this collection of cars, furnishings, sculpture, and art is a must-see. Like this wonderful Delahaye, the Mullin Museum is an elegantly restrained—but utterly fabulous—display.
The car had previously been owned by a French collector, who kept it in dry storage in France. It was acquired in original but non-running condition by the late Jacques 'Frenchy' Harguindeguy, a serious player in this arena and a welcome entrant at Pebble Beach and other fine concours around the world. Harguindeguy bought the Saoutchik Delahaye in 2006, brought it to the United States, ordered a modest mechanical recommissioning, and got it running. It was purchased by the Mullins in 2007 and treated to the comprehensive mechanical and physical restoration that yielded what you see here.
What's it worth these days? That's a question that could be answered only by a willing buyer and willing sellers, but it's not for sale. Based on recent sales of mildly similar cars, $800,000-$900,000 wouldn't be unreasonable, considering its provenance, condition, rarity, and successful award-winning appearances at Pebble Beach and other top concours.
It is breathtaking in every sense of the word. Neither Delahaye nor Saoutchik survived the 1950s, but 818005 stands as elegant testimony to their greatness.
Ask the Man Who Owns One
Peter Mullin, chairman emeritus of Mullin TBG and founder and chairman of M Financial, is an insurance executive and pioneer in the areas of reinsurance and executive compensation. 'Growing up in Southern California, I've had a lifelong love of cars and have principally focused my collecting on French art and automobiles from the 1920s and '30s. Like many of the cars in the Mullin Automotive Museum, the Delahaye 235 was subject to a comprehensive professional restoration, in this case by Brad Hoyt at Perfect Reflections."
Why I like it: 'This one-off Delahaye Cabriolet is a thrill to drive and very special. It epitomized all the qualities Delahaye sought to project in the postwar era. It was elegant, powerful, and luxurious—the best of the coachbuilt era with a modern twist.'
Why it's collectible: This car's collectibility is principally derived from its rarity and beauty. Delahaye produced only 84 of these exclusive chassis, and none was more elegant than this example. The Delahaye 235 was an expensive sports car and exuded the luxury of prewar handcraftsmanship combined with postwar technological innovation. This was one of only four such cars clothed by Jacques Saoutchik and is the only unique design of the four.
Restoring/Maintaining: Finding parts for classic cars is a challenge that can occasion the machining of otherwise unavailable parts. Luckily, that was not necessary during the restoration here, as the vehicle was intact with less than 50,000 original miles and was driven less than 100 miles in the 45 years prior to acquisition.
Beware: This car has been a joy to show and drive on tour. However, never forget you are driving a 60-year-old machine and that, back then, they didn't make brakes like they do today. Vintage cars can be a delight, but should be driven with care and consideration.
Our thanks: Mr. and Mrs. Peter Mullin and Andrew Reilly, deputy director and chief curator of the Mullin Automotive Museum.