by Ferrari’s Influence on American Design
Look at the second-generation F-body duo from GM — the 1970 Chevrolet Camaro and Pontiac Firebird — and it’s hard not to notice the influence of the classic Ferrari 250 GT SWB in their outlines. The proportions, the smooth roofline, the compact stance — all of it is a reminder that Detroit borrowed a few pages from the Maranello textbook.
However, few know that behind closed doors, GM designers developed a secret F-body concept where the letter “F” truly meant Ferrari. Under its hood was a genuine Italian V12, not a small-block engine from Flint.
This car was called Pegasus — the winged horse, get it? Its story began with Jerry Palmer, a young Chevrolet stylist who developed more refined, European design solutions for the future Camaro based on the then-new 1970 coupe model.
The Beginning of the Pegasus Story
GM’s legendary design chief Bill Mitchell saw these sketches and, in classic corporate fashion, used the ideas for Chevrolet’s more sporting sibling — Pontiac. The result was the 1970 Firebird, which abandoned the aggressive Trans Am style in favor of European glamour and sophistication.
Compared to the standard Firebird, it looks excessive, but it truly creates the impression that it was designed by a famous Italian atelier for some wealthy shipowner from Milan, not by a group of American guys in Detroit.
It wasn’t just about style. Under the attractive red bodywork hid the heart of a Ferrari 365 GTB/4 Daytona — a 4.4-liter V12 with 347 hp (352 PS), which, according to rumors, was donated by Ferrari itself.
A Meeting of Two Cultures Under the Hood
GM engineers installed the exotic powerplant between the Firebird’s fenders, moving the firewall back by 9 inches (230 mm), but then tried to mate it to a GM three-speed automatic transmission, which proved to be a poor partner for the high-revving, six-carburetor V12 designed for a five-speed manual.
Today, Pegasus is fitted with a somewhat more docile V12 from a 365 GTC/4 and a genuine Ferrari manual gearbox, and the original gold pinstriping was unfortunately removed in later years. But the key design elements that appeared on production Chevrolets and Pontiacs throughout the 1970s remain untouched.
Connection to the Testa Rossa
The most noticeable is the front-end expression in the style of the 250 Testa Rossa, which was initially modified from Palmer’s first sketch to include Pontiac’s characteristic split grille. This detail was removed during the car’s repair after the first of at least two accidents that happened when Mitchell was at the wheel.
And then there is the hood with its ventilation slots and narrow central bulge, designed to clear the velocity stacks sticking up from the V-shaped engine.
The rear disc brakes, never offered for the second-generation F-body, are borrowed from the Corvette, but the center-lock wire wheels are not cheap hubcaps with a wire effect from Detroit, but genuine items from Borrani, a Ferrari supplier.
Recognize any of these tricks? The theme of semi-hidden headlights appeared on both the 1974 production Camaro and Firebird, and the wraparound rear glass, which significantly improved rearward visibility, hit the showrooms the following year.
And while the F-body never received a rear end as sharp as this concept’s, it appeared on the new 1973 Pontiac Grand Am and Le Mans, although the effect was spoiled after a season by ugly, mandatory federal 5 mph (8 km/h) bumpers.
Genuine Leather and Genuine Ferrari Instruments
Inside, Mitchell’s personal touches transformed the space into something midway between a Ferrari Gran Turismo and a GM dream car. Except for the protrusion directly behind the wooden steering wheel, the basic shape of the dashboard is pure Firebird, but it houses Ferrari instruments and is trimmed in rich leather, not the standard plastic and fake woodgrain one might expect from a 1970s Pontiac.
Frank Markus from Motor Trend was lucky enough to sit behind that wheel in 2006, where he found a mixed driving experience, as one might expect. The overly light power steering and rough ride from the solid rear axle were pure Detroit, but the sound was unmistakably Ferrari.
And even if it didn’t feel as fast as the Daytona, which was 450 kg lighter, it could still break the rear tires loose in third gear.
Reportedly, Pegasus remained with Mitchell after his retirement in 1977 and until his death in 1988. Today it lives in GM’s heritage collection as a reminder of how designers can “learn” from each other, as well as the incredible influence Mitchell had in the company during the 1960s and early 1970s.
Can you imagine current Ford design chief Todd Willinger commissioning an S650 Mustang with a Ferrari 12Cilindri engine just because he thought it was a cool idea?
The story of Pegasus reminds us of an era when automakers allowed themselves to experiment with the boldest ideas, despite technical and corporate constraints. Such projects not only demonstrate technical mastery but also reflect a cultural exchange between different automotive schools, ultimately influencing mass production. Today, such collaborations seem almost impossible due to stricter competition and standardization, but they remain an important part of automotive heritage.
