The storied Mercedes SL has been reinvented - in the image of Affalterbach

*Looking ahead in anger (all photos © Daimler AG)*

The initials of global glamour used to be S and L.

For several decades, SL served as cypher for high society motoring, from München Bogenhausen to Beverly Hills, as American gigolos, British upper class housewives and Japanese dentists were united in their appreciation of the topless Swabian boulevardier. Back in those days, these two letters said more than a thousand words.

Astonishingly, the Mercedes SL’s success as a car and cultural symbol wasn’t due to the usual German design ethos of gradual evolution. Each meaningful generation of SL left a decidedly different mark, ranging from almost haughty elegance (Pagoda) over baroque glitz with a sprinkling of disco glitter (R107) to rationalist opulence (R129). What united all those generations of SL was a fundamental, underlying expression of quality, which played a major role in lending this Mercedes a unique allure. It was the SL’s status as a quality product that, coupled with its hedonistic traits, enabled it to win over the hearts and minds of the rich and famous - who, in turn, lent it the kind of glamour that could almost overshadow its other qualities.

This state of affairs wasn’t changed gradually, but ended precisely in 2008, at that year’s edition of the Geneva Motor Show. There, Mercedes-Benz presented the world with the hitherto unimaginable: An SL that had undergone a severe facelift. A facelift that didn’t just seem to have been performed by a butcher, rather than a surgeon - more importantly, it surrendered the SL’s status as a product that didn’t need to conform to industry product cycles and fashion. In broad daylight, the SL had been robbed of its unassailability.

From that fateful point onwards, the SL was no cypher any longer, but just another combination of letters among Mercedes-Benz’ sprawling product alphabet. That the R231-generation model, unveiled in 2011, turned out to be aesthetically inept added further insult - but the injury had already been inflicted and was only getting worse by the model year.

This grave damage hasn’t gone unnoticed in Sindelfingen, where Daimler AG’s finest have been working on resetting the SL for some time. The fruit of their labour is best encapsulated by the three letters added - for henceforth, the SL is a Mercedes-Benz no more, but a Mercedes-AMG instead.

For once, this change in nomenclature is no mere marketing gimmick, but truly sums up the new Swabian super roadster formula: this Mercedes is an AMG first and an SL second - as expressed by its styling, which conforms to the Affalterbach norm through and through, starting with the front graphic’s characteristically grim mien and ending with what almost seems like a Porsche 911 homage derrière. None of the uprightness that used to characterise the major generations of SL is in presence. Rather than at those cars, the AMG SL’s makers seem to have looked towards the 300 SL for some obscure inspiration (just like with each and every potent Mercedes sports car over the past two decades, truth be told). Consequently, with a bit of effort, the AMG’s bonnet shape and round bottom could be construed as nods to that classic - not to mention the soft top, which has thankfully returned from post-millennial hiatus.

Other than that, all the insignia of current Mercedes (AMG) design are present, from Porscheseque soft surfacing, over exceedingly squinty light graphics to seemingly chaotic shutlines - not to mention a rather better stance than that of all other German sports cars that don’t happen to have been devised in Weissach. The cockpit also seems to consist of components from several other Mercedes (AMG) models, what with the GT’s NACA duct graphic and the S-class’ centre console display all making appearances, in addition to the default excess of metal effect plastic. This aspect must be considered the most glamorous element of this SL, yet judging by the tactile shortcomings of other recent Mercedes interiors, little of that traditional aura of fundamental quality ought to be expected.

Not that this - nor any other shortcomings in terms of SL-ness - will ultimately matter. After two decades of waning sales and significance, ladies who lunch prefer to arrive at Spago in the seclusion of an SUV, rather than an exhibitionist convertible today. Richard Gere is 72 years old. The car as an expression of either glamour or dignity is dead.

Unremarkable bling is therefore what we deserve.