Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow – 1965 (60 years)

The Silver Shadow broke the mould – it allowed people to dream big, thanks to endorsement of celebrity and a design that had innate ‘approachability’ 

When someone mentions Rolls-Royce and a model that so typifies the British car maker, the Silver Shadow is probably right up there in terms of what comes to mind. 

The cognitive relevance of the Silver Shadow is huge – more so than the latest Phantom, or say, the Wraith or any other of the ‘non-vintage’ vehicles that didn’t feature running boards. It’s a car that popularised the luxury sector, because it was embraced by British culture – right across the classes. 

What do we mean by that? Well, the working classes knew what it was because, quite simply, celebrities endorsed them, bought them and showed that anything went, sometimes transforming them with garish colours and using the resultant creative energy they had applied to their Silver Shadow to promote their wares in vulgar fashion. It was no longer considered sacrilege to paint a Silver Shadow pink for laughs. It was a giggle to do this: who cares what the establishment thinks? 

Until then a Rolls-Royce was to be respected: the Royal Family used these cars to demonstrate its superiority in absence of a horse-drawn carriage. Pre-Silver Shadow, the middle and working classes were expected to show due deference when a dignitary rocked up at a special occasion in a Roll-Royce. Subliminally, a Rolls-Royce, whatever the model, had to revered because of what it was and, therefore, the people inside these cars – usually in the back seat with an employed driver behind the wheel – should enjoy the requisite respect as a result. 

We’re skirting around the issue here. Why did the Silver Shadow facilitate a lack of respect? Well, the glitterati got their hands on them and, most importantly, it was John Lennon who set the ball rolling with his 1965 Phantom V which he, with the help of designer Steve Weaver, turned into a yellow and pink acid trip. That particular stunt opened the floodgates and, when the Silver Shadow went on sale in 1965, all bets were off and any plonker with a record deal or a bit of spare cash could have one and do what they liked with them. The Royals and the diplomats were no longer the target market… unofficially, of course. 

Whether Rolls-Royce felt that this ‘celebrity’ take-up was ‘on brand’ is irrelevant. Musicians, actors and sports stars lapped them up. Public figures such as Freddie Mercury, Jay Kay, Paul McCartney, Michael Caine, Johnny Cash, Steve McQueen, John Travolta, David Bowie, Elton John, Frank Sinatra, Andy Warhol, Vidal Sassoon and even Muhammad Ali made their purchases, like sheep. ‘If he’s got one, I gotta have one’.  

The Silver Shadow then, became a British – and there’s that word again – icon, much like the Mini, the Jaguar E-Type and the Transit van, and it is of no surprise that these cars all had their day in the sun in the 1960s.  

This was a time for new thinking, a different kind of society, a kind of British dream, and it was celebrity leading the way. The so-called ‘man on the street’ would know what a Silver Shadow was because Elton John had one: they’d seen it in article in the Daily Mirror or more latterly, The Sun. In many respects the Silver Shadow was more rock’n’roll than Led Zeppelin – Zeppelin was part of the establishment. 

We haven’t talked much about the car here – Wikipedia can do all that – and there is enough information on the internet to tell you all you need to know about the technical specification, production numbers, power outputs, interior and all the other stuff that’ll keep the Rolls-Royce enthusiast scrolling, but what interests us is what this car stands for. 

It’s not necessary, however, to start going all Melvyn Bragg about this car – it is not a societal game-changer, nor has it contributed to world peace or addressed famine in the Third World but in terms of its very presence, it indirectly democratised the automotive landscape. The Silver Shadow was somehow approachable and less intimidating than previous Rolls-Royce models.  

People understood it. Yes, they recognised that it was for the wealthy and still unobtainable in a monetary sense, but those who owned them and even drove them (no chauffeurs, thank you very much) were relatable. From an appearance in the James Bond film The World is Not Enough and the main focus (albeit in a swimming pool) on the cover of the Oasis album Be Here Now, all serves to confirm its status as a British cultural… ahem, icon. 

Only the modern-day Phantom has come close in terms of recognition. Like the Silver Shadow the Phantom attracted the attention of celebrity. The likes of Jay-Z, Lady Gaga, Simon Cowell, Kim Kardashian, Drake, Rowan Atkinson, Shaquille O'Neal, and Bollywood stars such as Akshay Kumar and Shah Rukh Khan have all enjoyed Phantom ownership. It’s almost like we are back in the 1960s/70s again.   

So, is the Silver Shadow a blip in the Rolls-Royce story? Not at all: it is a wondrous vehicle, both in terms of design and its resultant media profile. You can reasonably argue that it is the greatest Rolls-Royce of all time because it made the luxury car maker something it had never been before: friendly, free of pomposity, and fun. If this singular model can do all that in a production run of just 15 years, then it can only be regarded as a rip-roaring British success story.