In 1971 came the Plymouth Scamp, almost a carbon copy of the Dodge Dart Swinger but for its Valiant front end and badging.

When the 1970 Plymouth Duster, a fastback coupe version of the compact Valiant, became a runaway best seller, even the executives of the Chrysler Corporation were surprised. (See our feature here.) To capitalize on the newfound success, a Dodge version was quickly ordered up for 1971. It was a simple process, as both the Plymouth Valiant and Dodge Dart compacts were based on the same Chrysler A-body corporate platform. A Dart front end was slapped on the Duster body shell, and the Dodge Demon was ready to roll.
1974 Scamp courtesy of Bring a Trailer.
Meanwhile, in the Dodge Dart line there was a popular notchback hardtop coupe, the Swinger, a body style that wasn’t available in the Plymouth Valiant. That apparent hole in the Plymouth lineup, Chrysler decided, could be easily filled in a similar way as the Duster/Demon, by sticking a Valiant front end on the Swinger. There were some differences. The Valiant’s wheelbase was 108 inches, the Dart’s 111 inches, and there were sheet metal discrepancies as well (but nothing too serious, as we explore here.) And so for 1971, the Plymouth Scamp, a clone of the Dart Swinger, joined the Valiant model line.
Actually, badge engineering was a common practice at Chrysler from the start of the company in 1924. Notable examples through the years include the ’57-’59 DeSoto Firesweep, a Dodge clone, and the Plymouth-Dodge hybrids (“Plodges”) built for export. In fact, there was nothing new or unusual about platform sharing and emblem swapping across the Motor City. But at the Chrysler Corporation in the 1970s, where resources for product development were increasingly scarce, cloning across the car brands was becoming the norm.
1974 Scamp standard and optional interiors
Unlike the Duster or the Swinger, the Scamp wasn’t offered in a performance model. The 340 and 360 cubic-inch V8s and four-speed manual transmission were not available. Choices were limited to the Slant 6 and 318 cubic-inch V8, paired with a three-speed manual gearbox or Torqueflite automatic. Here, the emphasis was on handsome but practical transportation. With its hardtop looks and nicer trim, the Scamp was priced at $2,561 for the 1971 intro, a few hundred bucks more than a base Duster or a Valiant four-door sedan—and the same price, to the dollar, as the Dart Swinger.
1976 Scamp Special
Through its six-year production run, the Scamp’s original premise was stretched this way and that. In 1974, a two-door hardtop sharing the Scamp’s body shell but with luxury features was sold as the Valiant Brougham. Also that year, the Valiant was consolidated on the Dart’s 111-in wheelbase and styling. From the rear, all the Dart and Valiant models were now twins. In 1975-76 came the Scamp Special, stripped to the bone and priced at around $200 less than the standard model.
1972 Scamp
From the start, the Scamp notchback hardtop never sold in anywhere near the numbers as the fastback Duster. In 1971, the margin was more than three to one and in some years, as much as five to one. It didn’t sell nearly as well as its Dodge Swinger twin, either. From that angle, the case for the Scamp seems questionable, except that the Plymouth division and dealers liked to sell cars, too, and it was easy enough to produce. Meanwhile, compacts represented 40 percent of the corporation’s volume in these years.
In 1976 both the Valiant and the Dart were phased out to make room for two new compacts, the Plymouth Volare and Dodge Aspen, and these two products were darned near identical. The Scamp name was briefly revived at Plymouth in 1983 for a front-wheel drive subcompact pickup, and it was a clone of the Dodge Rampage.
1974 Scamp 
Mismatched fender lip alert!
The 1974 TV commercial for the Plymouth Scamp featured a jingle stuck in my head ever since: “That’s why this lady drives a Scamp”, a parody of the “The Lady Is a Tramp” show tune from the 1937 Rodgers & Hart musical “Babes in Arms”. According to Wikipedia, this song is a spoof of New York high society & its strict etiquette (the first line of the verse is “I get too hungry for dinner at eight…”) and phony social pretensions. It has since become a popular music standard…
I don’t remember that commercial, and that makes me a little sad. -mcg
Had emissions and crash regulations not taken them down, the late-Sixties slant six Dart/Valiant could have sold relatively unchanged as long as the Jeep or VW Beetle.
74 Scamp was my first brand new car. It was beige and tan just like the one in the article. 318 V8 provided adequate power without sacrificing fuel economy. Torsion bar suspension provided decent handling and I sure wish I still had it today.
I bought a 72 Dart Swinger from and old fellow in 1982. Gold with a gold vinyl roof high and back bucket seats. It had a 318 and was immaculate, he had even numbered the plug wires with their firing order. It was a great car but the high back bucket seats crucified my lower back so I had to get rid of it which made me sad.
It’s likely that these cars were better than their Aspen/Volare replacements.
There is a good case for that. My father, who didn’t think much of cars in general, kept a nice car for my stepmom and drove beaters himself, a string of slant six Mopars. To him they were the automotive ideal. Finally he ended up with a Volare, which rusted badly and soured him on Chrysler products from then on.
Ultimately, the fuel tank mountings rusted out and the tank fell on the ground. He threw the tank in the trunk, reconnected the lines, and drove it that way for a few more years. Whenever anyone mentioned his car, he would throw out his arms like Domenico Mudugno and sing, “Volare!” Wherever he parked it, he would throw the keys on the floor mat. When a policeman downtown asked him what if someone steals it, he answered, “that’s their problem.” mcg
Thanks for all your work – everyday is a treat! Putting the fuel tank in the trunk is straight out of Car Talk with Click and Clack—I love it!