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The Best Lincoln Versailles Wasn’t a Car—It Was Velour
We all know the story of the Lincoln Versailles, but many are unaware of its lavish prequel. It’s a bit of Lincoln history worth knowing, as the original reference to the palace was indeed much more opulent than the crudely badge-engineered Ford Granada that followed.
This is where the story gets a little twisted, as this Versailles wasn’t a car. Instead, the name was associated with an expensive option of extreme decadence, reserved for an unquestionably prestigious vehicle.

The year was 1976, and the car was Lincoln’s Continental Mark IV. Having long shed its formerly sleek bumpers in 1972, the final year of this Mark Series was jazzed up with Malasie Era window dressing excesses: unique trim and color combinations, more standard features, and the signature of a famous designer/luxury goods purveyor. Referred in literature as the Designer Series, Lincoln took AMC’s idea of licensing a premium consumer brand for their vehicles and ran it to highly successful extremes. But these models weren’t the pinnacle of American luxury, and it’s all because of that pesky Versailles name.
The new-for-1976 Versailles interior was a standalone option, and arguably more prestigious than any designer’s name that Ford deemed worthy to affix to the Continental Mark IV. It elevated the ownership experience with a handful of unique parts and reams of crushed velour in four unique colors (not just shades of gray as we see today).
I suspect few folks know of Versailles’ existence because it was not associated with a big name like Cartier or Givenchy. But you should know about this crushed velour, as it delights in the details, and set back would-be owners a significant amount of cash.
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Like the sales literature suggested, occupants of this special Continental Mark IV felt the luxury of crushed velour “above, around and under you.” The unique door, seats, and quarter panels were upholstered in crushed velour, looking radically different and feeling significantly more expensive than other Mark Series of the era. The unique door panels even had a large slab of convincing-looking plasti-wood at the top, shaped like something a human would actually make in a workshop, providing a deep contrast to the crushed velour around it.
The photos below came from this particular 1976 Continental Mark IV Bill Blass Designer Series, and we are lucky that original owner/selling dealership honored this particular Blass with the upgraded Versailles velour interior.




Perhaps I haven’t sold the relevance of this option package yet, and my editors are patiently waiting for me to get to the point. The Versailles option was $2,000 in 1976, on top of the $11,060 asking price for a standard Continental Mark IV. This interior was 18% of a base model’s value, and equates to $11,089.38 inflation adjusted dollars in 2024. This ain’t chump change, since an entire 1976 Ford Pinto Pony was only $895 more than the Versailles velour upgrade.
All that cash ensured that crushed velour was everywhere, aside from the shag carpet at your feet and the headliner above you. Even the window switchgear demanded clean hands to ensure proper treatment of the nearby velour coverings. And while all Mark Series Continentals were delightful for rear seat passengers with their decadent oval opera windows, they became the automotive equivalent of a hyperbaric chamber when the quarter panels were upholstered in crushed velour. The Versailles’ standard rear center armrest didn’t hurt, either, and there’s some irony to the fact that many personal luxury coupes lacked a fold-down rear armrest. (But that’s beyond the scope of discussions here.)
The front seats were obviously soft and squidgy, but were surprisingly supportive. Not only was your lower back and butt treated to individual pillows, but both thighs were given two such pillows of their own. Sciatic nerves relaxed with Versailles, and speaking from experience, I’d rate this Lincoln even higher than the God-like thrones we’ve previously gushed about with the Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman. The Tally seats didn’t cradle you, as you sat on them and not in them. In contrast, the Versailles seats were like a memory foam bed.


Perhaps these two American deities of pillow-topped decadence are actually a tandemocracy, as both literally crushed velour (sorry) as they gazed down upon the proletariat Broughams and Landaus in their Kingdom of Malaise. Of course, there will always be import-minded luxury enthusiasts of the era, folks who rebelled against the system that created and nurtured the market where Cadillac and Lincoln thrived. More often than not, their luxury vehicle came with something called MB-Tex. And they were proud of owning vinyl seating surfaces in a luxury car? Bless their hearts.
I remember my first “Versailles experience” in the Jade Green crushed velour of a 1977 Continental Mark V Givenchy in the late 1990s. It was at an antique mall/car consignment lot near Love Field Airport in Dallas, TX, and this Mark V was parked next to its older brother, a 1976 Givenchy Mark IV. I was jealous that the owner of these two Givenchys had them for nearly two decades, but there was one clear winner. I was hooked the moment I opened the door of the newer Mark V, as its posh velour was a significant upgrade over the shiny green leather seats in the older Mark next to it.

Years passed until I realized that 1977 Continental Mark V had a naming conflict with the infamous Lincoln Versailles automobile. Doing so meant the Versailles velour of the 1976 Mark IV was renamed “Majestic” velour for that Mark V. The name change necessitated a price increase, now a whopping $2,100. For that much bread, it’s no surprise they managed to get velour this close to the Mark’s door jamb.
For those that never experienced the 1976 Versailles or the 1977 Majestic velour interiors, the photos from Hagerty Marketplace might give you the vibes. They certainly lifted my spirits, as I saw far too many of these interiors in junkyards in the 1990s, living within neglected Continentals sporting so much rust around their opera windows that you could feel the quarter panel’s velour from outside the vehicle. (That’s an exaggeration, but Malaise Era vinyl roofs rusted horribly in moist climates, and more than once I got real close to reaching the velour from outside with a screwdriver.)
Seeing the Versailles Mark IV and Majestic Mark Vs in the junkyard was always a sad and unceremonious ending to a prestigious interior upgrade with a short window of fame. But I never walked past one without giving it the respect it deserved. If mold and hantavirus concerns weren’t present, I’d always hop into the velour-lined rear bench seat, fold down that armrest, and enjoy a final moment of premium craftsmanship before the crusher got its jaws on it.







But these are long gone from junkyards, so life must move on. Rubbery leather is our new automotive passion, thanks in part to our addiction to factory farming. Perhaps leather will fall out of fashion at some point, if a correlation between fancy car interiors and cow burps is drawn by the right people. A monumental shift is required to overcome crushed velour’s negative connotations, and the historical baggage associated with disco-era staples like polyester suits, gold chains, and exposed chest hair is likely a thing of the past.


Lincoln never gave Versailles velour its just desserts, compared to Cadillac putting the word “Talisman” on the C-pillar to ensure everyone knew what was inside. But those with a passing interest in Malaise Era luxury recall that excessive amounts of crushed velour survived until the Mark Series downsizing in 1980, with the Diamond Jubilee (1978) and Collector’s Edition (1979). These trims added to the Versailles package with a leather-wrapped floor console and dash top. Impressive to certain enthusiasts, but they are nothing without the 1976 Lincoln Versailles (as it were).
So if you come across a Continental Mark Series from 1976 or 1977, do yourself a favor and look at the interior first. If you see crushed velour on the doors and four little pillows for your legs, you are in the presence of the King of all Kings. If you have the honor of sitting in one, don’t be surprised if you do all you can to try to make it your own: Crushed velour has its own gravitational pull.

I’d swear that white/red door panel light looks identical to the ones used in the early Cougars. Those were chromed pot metal if I’m not mistaken. These?
They became plastic in the Malaise Era. Everything got lighter and more fuel efficient, even the lights.
The Ver-sigh was a slapped together response to Cadillac’s Seville! Nine times out of ten I’ll take a Lincoln over a caddy, not this time! Take a ford Granada, put a continental kit on the trunk, switch the grille with a Lincoln emblem and You get Ver-sigh!! Upgrade the dashboard? Nope Upgrade the door pulls or interior material Nope? The 82′ slope back continental was a superior auto in every way!!
Ah, the ’70s! What a waste of good automotive opportunities, IMO. I know, we were trying to overcome the fuel crisis and still enjoy our land yachts – but having one’s cake and eating it too hardly ever pans out. Throwing velour all over the interior of a boat was (sorry, Sajeev, as I nearly always side with you) NOT luxurious to me. It just meant that cleaning up after taking the kids anywhere was gonna be a bigger chore than vinyl.
I guess my upbringing just didn’t entice me to seek out luxury anyway. I didn’t mind being “comfy”, but for me that meant having a nice flannel shirt and heavy socks. I never lusted for a “personal luxury coupe” in any form. However, I’ll admit to owning a gold sculpted velour couch in about 1973 – or perhaps it was fauxlour since I bought it at Sears. Our at-the-time pet Saint Bernard loved it too – she ate the arm off one end when it was almost 2 months old. Apparently she enjoyed velour!
KIDS? You don’t put kids in a personal luxury coupe! This car was only intended for three martini lunches and weekend getaways with your lover! 😀
Indeed! Bring back the personal luxury coupe! And who ever decided that what they pass off as leather upholstery today is luxurious? Not to mention burning hot in the summer and stiff and cold in the winter!
Absolutely, leather is the lowest choice material to me, hot in the summer, cold in the winter, and not really all that comfortable at any point. I love a good cloth seat, particularly if they are heated.
I never understood why leather is considered the epitome of luxury. While I have had leather in several luxury vehicles (including my current Town Car) I much prefer plush velvet interiors!
Agreed. Right now I drive a 22 year old Bonneville with cloth seats that still look good (and are very comfortable for long trips and in hot TX summers) with nothing but vacuuming. My wife has a ’15 Highlander with gray leather, which we constantly have to clean to keep it from looking dirty gray.
I recall these. Not my thing but this was what people bought in the 70’s. Most of the owners were business ment to pimps. I don’t say that to be harsh but in the area I worked in that is who drove these.
My bosses brother had two black continentals identical for him and his wife. He was a realtor. Few others owned the T bird version. So working on cars in the early 80’s I got to drive a number of these monsters.
Sajeev- Funny you should mention the martinis. Some years ago a Frank Sinatra like crooner showed up a little local event. I, and the group I’d fallen in with, all agreed we should quit our day jobs, buy tuxedos, sequin dresses and a Lincoln Town Car. Follow him across the country becoming ‘Sinatra Heads ‘. Finance the whole thing by selling martinis and loose olives in the parking lot before the show.
I see nothing wrong with this plan!
I had one, put a SOHC 427 open headers and ran at the dirt track… super crusher..as I crushed everyone.
Today’s Peasant cars are truly REVOLTING! I’m on to VERSAILLES in my Lincoln Town Car. Viva La LAND YACHT!
To hell with the interior or the car, I made a beeline for the wreckin’ yard when I heard one was there. I’d rip that front end out and use it on one of my customs I was building. The front end was the most impressive part of the car to be quite honest. My Sleds needed a stout front end and the Versaille’s were the best. They have long since gotten scooped up or just finally disappeared sad to say. If you find one grab it. I still wish I had a few lying around.
We had a friend whose family had several “We tote the note” car lots. The Lincoln dealer gave my friend a choice between a Town Car, a Mark V or the hot selling Versey. He chose the Versey. The door shut with a reassuring thump and it drove really smooth. The interior door handles broke easily. But, it wasn’t really a Lincoln. He traded the Versey for one of the first Mustang Convertibles. Another debatable choice.
Thanks for this article, Sajeev. I grew up during this era but never heard of the Versailles option. I laughed at your comment regarding the M-B Tex. As I mentioned in a response to the recent Hagerty article on the first generation Jetta, as a teenage auto enthusiast I completely swallowed the pro-German and anti-American bias that the automotive publications were feeding me. My father wanted a new Mark V but, as a truly good natured man, he agreed to test drive a 280CE at my “educated” request. During the test drive, he sincerely asked the salesman if perhaps the emergency brake was still on. Horrifying at the time, but so funny now. Velour certainly is comfortable, but I just shudder at the thought of skin oils and such staining that fabric. That’s a lot to clean. As pre-internet teenagers, the Los Angeles car show was a big deal to us. Although we dutifully worshipped the German cars, it was the Park Avenue Limiteds and Regency 98 Broughams with those pillowy velour interiors that we went to when we need to relax for a few minutes.
I am glad you enjoyed it, Eric! As much as I admired the 70s Mercedes sedans my family friends owned back in the early 1980s, as much as I appreciated the engineering, those interiors were lacking in luxury features.
But I will admit that the velour interiors they offered were quite nice!
The Versnada was a cynical attempt to cash in on consumer naivety. They were indeed a gussied-up Granada, right down to the outdated power steering power-assist cylinder mount to the steering linkage. The 351 equipped cars were particularly hard to work on, although today’s techs, stuck with pulling the motor to change a water pump (looking at you, last-gen Explorer) might find them a welcome relief.
To Ford’s credit, though, they did a good job on reducing NVH, as compared to a Granada. The Versnadas were much smoother (ride and drivetrain) and quieter than their Granada/Monarch brethren.
I think the only way to properly say this is to roll the r at the end. Velourrrrrrrr! :^)
Just like Corrrrrinthian Leather.
😂
in 1985 I went over to the late globe auto wreckers next to O’Hare and ordered a Lincoln Versalles rear end for a street rod I was building, a couple of days later they called and told me it was in, these were narrow 9 inch rear ends with disc brakes, I took my ten year old son with me, as we waited for the yard guy to bring our rear end to the front counter we heard a major scuffle, the double doors came flying open and a guy came through backwards and landed on the floor, the owner of Globe ran up to his yard guys and yelled “what the F@##$, do you guys want me to get sued”, one of the yard guys said we caught him stealing our tools, the owner and the yard guys took him in the back and beat him half to death, my son learned a valuable lesson that day.
I am thinking that some more research would be benificial, mainly because this 1970’s crushed velour interiors was started I believe by the Chrysler New Yorkers of 1975-76 with there Pillowy seats. I owned a 1976 New Yorker back in the day as a dialy driver and the crushed velour was the standard interior with the Pillowy leather as the upgrade. Soon Oldsmobile, Buick etc followed suit.
This article is not about the material’s origin story, it’s about making a big deal about the quantity of said material in one special vehicle.
None of the vehicles you mentioned had door panels covered in this much of the stuff, much less the rear quarter panels. They only had crushed velour on the seats and door panel inserts. I bet the Versailles package had more crushed velour on the seat backs than any other car of the era, except for the Talisman. But if I am mistaken on these points, I’d love to be proven wrong with an example!
Too bad the pictured Mk V didn’t have the “Bordello Red” interior. It would have been so apropos…
As an aside…I wonder if the Lincoln and Cadillac velour lasted as long as what Subaru used. A friend had a late 80s Subie with 210k miles (ex salesman’s car) and I was astonished to notice the driver’s and passenger’s seats looked identical wear-wise.
Considering how beat to hell these were in the junkyards in the 1990s-2000s, I think the velour wore like iron.
Sajeev…
I’ll guess that when you come across them, the interiors are in good shape. A lot of these cars didn’t get heavy use, so the cloth, even expensive valour, would not get threadbare.
How did they do with smells?
One good point about leather interiors is they don’t retain tobacco smoke smells like most cloth does.
I make it a point to sit in the Marks (and 72-76 Thunderbirds) I come across at auctions, most don’t smell bad, thanks to their leather.
Remember, most of those cars buyers demographic came from the “everyone smoked back then” era.
I don’t know how Mercedes got people to accept MB-Tex as being better than leather. Some bit of salesmanship. My current Mercedes have a 50-50 mix, I can’t say one is better than the other, though I think the vinyl dis-colors easily.
For a hilarious bit on “Mercedes leather” watch Albert Brooks’ film “Lost in America”.
I would wager your guess is not correct, but honestly, the Versailles Mark IV and Magestic Mark Vs have disappeared from my high turnover junkyards over 20 years ago. Every one I saw was clearly on 3+ owners, many looked like owner #7 used it as an alternative to a truck. The shag carpeting was disgusting, and the smell was challenging but it wasn’t always cigarette smoke. (Though ironically I’d find a clean example with the cheaper interiors on a more regular basis.)