It may be hard to believe, but I've been known to take in indie rock shows, eat unpasteurized blue cheeses, seek out raw denim jeans, and—gasp—rode a fixed gear bicycle for more than a year. (Not all in one go, of course…) Thing is, I really do like the Cat Lady IPA beer poster in our kitchen, and the organic olive oil soap I use in the shower. Don't think this is all my doing: Kay, bless her, even recently gifted me home-made beard oil.
Now, before you're rolling your eyes and reaching for the unsubscribe button, I'm a firm believer that you need entities (people, companies, ideas, etc.) that exist on the fringe of our societies. Not in a Matt Foley van-down-by-the-river sort of way, but in a, "I'll try that and see what happens" way. While I don't pretend that having an intimate understanding of pour-over coffee is helping the world in any way, having fringe vehicles like the Willys-Viasa SV Toledo around is pretty awesome, right?
I'm sure the SV—I'll get to the Toledo part in a second—wasn't intended to be a fringe vehicle, but Kaiser-Willys must have known that having a Spanish subsidiary build literal sheds on top of Commando 4x4 chassis wasn't going to set the sales charts on fire. SV stands for, apparently, "Spanish Version" (don't tell that to Nissan) and buyers could opt for either a Super Hurricane inline 6-cylinder engine or Perkins 4-cylinder diesel.
Four models were available: Campeador pickup, Duplex double-cab pickup, Furgon van, and "Toledo" 9-passenger luxury van.
So here's where this hipster crap comes full circle: Jeep, why not build a new one of these for the Easter Jeep Safari next year, then take it down to SXSW, NXNW, Burning Man, and blend in seamlessly among all of the hipsters—all the while capturing wonderful footage of young, beautiful people that you can use in marketing materials for years to come.