In 1949 DeSoto introduced its first new postwar cars, with the emphasis on comfort, practicality, and value.

Like all the divisions of the Chrysler Corporation for 1949, DeSoto delayed the introduction of its first postwar models until March, so there were two distinct car lines that year, designated First Series and Second Series. And just like the rest of the Chrysler brands that year, DeSoto wasn’t launching any styling trends with its new products. Chrysler president K.T. Keller viewed himself as a practical man, and under his direction the company produced practical cars, with few concessions to fashion. Styling was conservative, almost to an extreme.
Custom Coupe
As Keller told the editors of Popular Mechanics magazine, his ideal was “a car that is easy to get into and out of, that is easy to garage, to handle in traffic or in parking.” So while the standard DeSoto’s wheelbase was now four inches longer, the car was five inches shorter in overall length and four inches narrower. Yet the seats were six inches wider in the front and seven inches wider in the rear, providing far more interior room.
The windshield was now 24 percent larger, too, for better visibility. The driver’s seat cushion was 15 inches above the floor, the roof 65 inches above the ground. Keller’s idea of a dream car was one in which men and women could leave their hats on as they entered and exited. Function before form. Hence the slogan, “the car designed with you in mind.”
Deluxe Station Wagon
Several new models leaned into the practicality theme. Here was DeSoto’s first real production station wagon, with ash framing over conventional steel body panels. The wagon featured a unique lower tailgate with a built-in spare tire carrier—not a styling tour de force, necessarily, but it certainly is interesting. And it did solve a perennial problem with wagons: where to stow the spare. The innovation lasted one year.
De Luxe Carry-All
And there was a new wagon-sedan hybrid, too, the De Luxe Carry-All, featuring a fold-down seat and a full-length cargo floor that opened into the trunk. This was essentially a standard-wheelbase (125.5-in) version of the long-wheelbase Suburban vacation cruiser with three-row seating and roof-mounted luggage rack introduced in 1946. DeSoto’s ad writers helpfully described the Carry-All as perfect for farmers, salesmen, and sportsmen.
Custom Eight-Passenger Sedan
Actually, long-wheelbase models were a tradition at DeSoto, and that carried forward in the 1949 redesign. The division offered its 139.5-in wheelbase platform in three different ways in ’49: as a taxi, as the aforementioned Suburban, and as an Eight-Passenger Sedan with two jump seats in the passenger floor. DeSoto taxis were popular in the major cities and sold in profitable numbers, but production for the Eight-Passenger Sedan and the Suburban in ’49 ran in the low hundreds.

In both the 125.5-in and 139.5-in wheelbase versions, the chassis followed standard Chrysler practice with a rigid ladder frame, coil-spring independent front suspension, and parallel leaf springs at the rear. All models for ’49 were powered by the familiar DeSoto L-head six with four main bearings, 236.6 cubic inches, and 112 hp. At the senior Custom trim level, Fluid Drive with Tip-Toe Shifting (semi-automatic) was standard equipment.
So despite the conservative styling, DeSoto did offer a remarkably broad variety of models and body styles in ’49, rounded out with the conventional Club Coupe, Convertible, and Four-Door Sedan. Prices for this diverse range in two trim levels, De Luxe on the bottom and Custom on top, ran from $1,871 to $3,179. But of the 94,000 DeSoto buyers in 1949, more than half (51.5 percent) chose a single model, the Custom Four-Door Sedan at $2,059. This, you could say, was the DeSoto designed with them in mind.
Custom Four-Door Sedan
Mopar boss K.T. Keller understood the engineering end of the car business, but was blind to the emotional end. People fell in love with a car’s looks. So while Ford and GM pursued new postwar styling, he didn’t. And it took Wall Street and disappointing earnings for force a change. They demanded new styling. Six years too late, in 1955, Virgil Exner was finally allowed to deliver it.
The design always reminded me of piggy banks.