My Ten Worst Dinky Toys

It is com­mon for us col­lec­tors to look back on our favorite Dinky Toys, as I did else­where on this site with my own “top ten” list. Not so hap­pi­ly remem­bered, though, are the Dinkys that nev­er should have come out of Binns Road.

Over its long his­to­ry, Mec­ca­no Ltd. pro­duced such a wide range of mod­els that not all of them can please every­body. Per­son­al­ly, for exam­ple, I don’t real­ly col­lect air­planes, boats, dolls house fur­ni­ture, gar­den imple­ments, the Ger­ry Ander­son space toys, or even mil­i­tary mod­els, since none of these would blend with ordi­nary cars and trucks on my table­top lay­outs (real or imag­ined).

But all of the above ranges deserved­ly have their fans, and they all have “play val­ue.”  Even Dinky’s Ogle-designed “Con­voy” trucks that col­lec­tors dis­like were a well-mean­ing effort to pro­duce afford­able pock­et-mon­ey toys for young chil­dren.

In con­trast, there are Dinky Toys that in my opin­ion nev­er should have been made. They are low in play val­ue, they most­ly rep­re­sent vehi­cles that did not exist in real life, or they were pathet­ic attempts to wring more sales out of exist­ing tool­ing.

Sad­ly, it is no coin­ci­dence that these mod­els began to appear after the takeover of Mec­ca­no Ltd. by Lines Broth­ers in 1964. They mul­ti­plied after the sale to Air­fix in 1971.

Ulti­mate­ly, enough “nev­er shoul­da” Dinky Toys appeared that it was dif­fi­cult to keep this list of stinkers down to a mere ten. When you look at any of these, you’ll ask your­self “what were they think­ing?”

In the order of their release, here’s my selec­tion:

1 — 485 Santa Special Model T Ford (1964)

By the stan­dards of what would fol­low in lat­er years, this mod­el is a mas­ter­piece. But it belongs in the “hall of shame” because it is the first Dinky Toy that was a fan­ta­sy mod­el, with no real-world coun­ter­part.

Image: Internet

Dinky’s 475 Mod­el T Ford was a belat­ed attempt to com­plete with Lesney’s Mod­els of Yes­ter­year and Corgi’s Clas­sics. Judg­ing by the num­ber of mint-and-boxed sam­ples that sur­vive today (in their hor­ri­ble Visi­Pak box­es), it does not seem to have been a good sell­er.

Poor ini­tial sales of the Mod­el T may have been why Mec­ca­no Ltd. quick­ly enlist­ed Father Christ­mas and his plas­tic bag of toys for a redec­o­rat­ed ver­sion. The Mec­ca­no Mag­a­zine sug­gest­ed that the mod­el would become “the cen­ter­piece of not a few table dec­o­ra­tions.” Per­haps so, but this unfor­tu­nate con­fec­tion cer­tain­ly nev­er appeared on any self-respect­ing mod­el high­ways or rail­roads!

2 — 617 V.W. K.D.F. with P.A.K. Anti-Tank Gun (1967)

I’ll con­cede that this Dinky Toy is an accept­able mod­el of a vehi­cle that actu­al­ly exist­ed, though it is a Kubel­wa­gen, not a KdF (the lat­ter was actu­al­ly an ear­ly Bee­tle). But the key to why I despise it can be found engraved on the base: “Bat­tle Lines.”

Image: Vectis Auctions

This mod­el – along with its com­pan­ion, the 615 U.S. Jeep with 105mm How­itzer – was designed as part of a sep­a­rate range of 1/32nd scale mil­i­tary mod­els. I’m guess­ing the Bat­tle Lines toys were orig­i­nal­ly cre­at­ed at Lines Broth­ers’ offices in Lon­don, then forced on Binns Road to be awk­ward­ly incor­po­rat­ed into the Dinky line.

While the 1/32nd scale had plen­ty of prece­dent for mil­i­tary mod­els, it made for over­sized, ugly Dinky Toys. In my opin­ion, Dinky’s lat­ter-day mil­i­tary offer­ings were spoiled by the con­fu­sion of dif­fer­ent scales offered, mak­ing these Bat­tle Lines mod­els an ugly sign of things to come.

3 — 157 BMW 2000 Tilux (1968)

I wavered over this selec­tion because I think the idea of cre­at­ing a mod­el car with work­ing indi­ca­tors was a great idea, with lots of play val­ue. (BMW was an odd mar­que to choose, though: Real BMWs don’t actu­al­ly have work­ing indi­ca­tors, do they?)

Image: Vectis Auctions

Unfor­tu­nate­ly, in its haste to make room for a bat­tery and light bulb – these were the years of the ongo­ing “first again” bat­tle with Cor­gi – Dinky cre­at­ed a painful­ly bloat­ed mod­el. (The Mer­cedes 250 they pro­duced with work­ing stop lights is almost as bad.)

The body’s being cast in two halves is awk­ward and just adds to the bulk. The two-tone paint mere­ly empha­sis­es the split. I think the mod­el might have looked slight­ly bet­ter in the all-over blue and red colours that were adver­tised but not issued.

Regard­less, they should have gone back to the draw­ing board on this one. The French Dinky 534 BMW 1500 shows how a mod­el of this same basic car should have looked.

4 — 111 Cinderella’s Coach (1976)

Not to mince words, the Cin­derel­la’s Coach is in my opin­ion the worst Dinky Toy ever made. Even the Hap­py Cab (see lat­er) isn’t quite this bad.

Image: Vectis Auctions

This is a mod­el of a “real” vehi­cle, but its mer­its end there. The coach appeared in The Slip­per and the Rose, a musi­cal ver­sion of the Cin­derel­la sto­ry that was a Roy­al Vari­ety Com­mand Per­for­mance selec­tion in March 1976.

Appar­ent­ly the Queen Moth­er was (per Wikipedia) a par­tic­u­lar fan of the film’s music. Mean­while, Mec­ca­no Ltd. had pre­pared its mod­el in advance and was some­how con­vinced it would be a big suc­cess. (Were there drugs in the Liv­er­pool water?)

The coach was on the cov­er of the 1976 Dinky cat­a­logue and treat­ed to a full page inside. Fur­ther, the back of the mod­el’s spe­cial box fea­tured stills from the movie as well as the sto­ry­line.

The mod­el itself is almost all plas­tic, with a few ugly dabs of paint (either green or gold) on the hors­es. Unlike most mod­els of a coach and hors­es, the nags stand on a piece of plas­tic “pave­ment” that has lit­tle sup­ports under­neath. It’s a very strange design.

It would be inter­est­ing to know what sales fig­ures were achieved for this mod­el!

5 — 674 Coastguard Amphibious Missile Launch (1977)

What goes for the Coast­guard Amphibi­ous Mis­sile Launch also goes for its sis­ter mod­el, the 677 Armored Com­mand Vehi­cle — I sim­ply dis­like the boat the most! Both toys were designed in ear­ly 1973 as mod­els of vehi­cles that were sup­posed to appear in a new Ger­ry Ander­son TV series called The Inves­ti­ga­tor.

Image: Vectis Auctions

Dinky had a lot of suc­cess with oth­er Ger­ry Ander­son vehi­cles (Thun­der­birds, UFO, etc.), so it rushed to cre­ate the Inves­ti­ga­tor Car and Inves­ti­ga­tor Boat so they could be released as soon as the pro­gram aired. Unfor­tu­nate­ly, The Inves­ti­ga­tor, which was about two Amer­i­can chil­dren who were minia­tur­ized by an alien in order to fight crime on Earth, was nev­er broad­cast.

Left hold­ing the bag, Mec­ca­no Ltd. decid­ed to recoup its invest­ment in the tool­ing by releas­ing the Inves­ti­ga­tor mod­els in a gener­ic form. The Armoured Com­mand Vehi­cle would be released in 1976 and pro­mot­ed by Dinky as hav­ing been designed by Ger­ry Ander­son (it was actu­al­ly designed by Reg Hill). The Coast­guard Mis­sile Launch was released lat­er, with­out men­tion of any Ander­son con­nec­tion.

The  pilot film for The Inves­ti­ga­tor — seen only decades lat­er via home video — fea­tured a jet pow­ered boat that fea­tured wheels, but not any obvi­ous weapons. Dinky added a mis­sile launch­er to the front of its mod­el any­way, obvi­ous­ly antic­i­pat­ing plot devel­op­ments that were nev­er to take place.

For its revamped Coast­guard Amphibi­ous Mis­sile Launch, Dinky sim­ply changed the col­ors of the pre­vi­ous­ly planned toy, adding “Coast­guard” labels and a dri­ver fig­ure. I guess the end result does have play val­ue, but shorn of any Ander­son con­text, it’s an unre­al­is­tic and absurd mod­el.

6 — 354 Pink Panther’s Jet Car (1977)

Dinky’s Pink Pan­ther car is a plas­tic mon­stros­i­ty, but that alone would­n’t have earned it a place in the hall of shame. After all, this was a mod­el of an actu­al, ful­ly func­tion­al car that was used in the open­ing cred­its to the Pink Pan­ther TV show (shown on the BBC in the UK).  Apart from not hav­ing a fly­wheel pro­trud­ing from the roof, the car real­ly did look like this.

Image: Vectis Auctions

As Chris Jel­ley con­ced­ed in his Mec­ca­no Mag­a­zine write­up, the fly­wheel motor was not cal­cu­lat­ed to please “a few of the old­er, seri­ous Dinky col­lec­tors.” But, it had plen­ty of play val­ue and made this the fastest Dinky ever. (It’s for­tu­nate for shins and skirt­ing boards that the mod­el wasn’t made of met­al, as orig­i­nal­ly con­sid­ered.)

So why then did Mec­ca­no Ltd. delete the fly­wheel in 1977, tak­ing away most of the mod­el’s appeal? The result­ing minia­ture was shaped more like its pro­to­type, but Binns Road ruined it by adding decals with a car­toon fig­ure on the roof and Pink Pan­ther labels on the sides.

Adding insult to injury, pack­ag­ing for this lat­er ver­sion called the toy a Jet Car — con­fus­ing­ly, a trade­mark used by Norev for its own diecasts at the time — and omit­ted any men­tion of Dinky. The Dinky Toys name was also delet­ed from the base of the mod­el. It would be inter­est­ing to know why these brand­ing changes occurred.

7 — 361 Galactic/Zygon/Space/Missile Firing War Chariot (1978/1979)

Dur­ing its mer­ci­ful­ly short life, this vehi­cle real­ly did have four dif­fer­ent names. it was first known as the Galac­tic War Char­i­ot, then mor­phed into Zygon, Space and Mis­sile-Fir­ing War Char­i­ot ver­sions.

Image: Vectis Auctions

Mec­ca­no Ltd. cob­bled this mod­el togeth­er from a vari­ety of exist­ing parts, which I am indebt­ed to Kevin O’Neil for detail­ing. For exam­ple, the Galac­tic War Char­i­ot uses a mod­i­fied 355 Lunar Rover chas­sis, repaint­ed astro­nauts, 102’s Joe’s Car tur­bines reversed as jet engines, wheels from the 226 Fer­rari Rac­ing Car, and the mis­sile fir­ing mech­a­nism of the 363 Sha­do Mobile!

In 1979, Dinky adopt­ed the name “Zygon” for its space toys, claim­ing it as a trade­mark even though it had pre­vi­ous­ly been used as the name of an alien race in Doc­tor Who episodes. The Galac­tic War Char­i­ot, now fit­ted with plas­tic wheels and a dif­fer­ent mis­sile fir­ing mech­a­nism, became the Zygon War Char­i­ot.

Accord­ing to O’Neil’s Dinkytvspace.com web­site, there are sev­en known vari­ants of the Zygon War Char­i­ot, since it can have dif­fer­ent colours for the chas­sis, astro­nauts, mis­sile launch­er, and jet engines. How­ev­er, in my opin­ion even one vari­ant is more than enough for any col­lec­tion!

A rare third ver­sion of this mod­el — known as the Space War Char­i­ot, accord­ing to O’Neil — was released dur­ing the dire last days, after Binns Road had run out of prop­er box­es for its toys. Sup­plied in a plain brown box, it has a blue and white chas­sis, and either two white space­men, or one white one and one red one.

Final­ly, the tool­ing was shipped to Italy, where the mod­el was made in the blue-and-white colour scheme and fea­tured mis­cel­la­neous types of space­men (or some­times none at all). Mys­te­ri­ous­ly, this final Mis­sile Fir­ing War Char­i­ot ver­sion was sup­plied on the same type of flim­sy blis­ter pack as the Hong Kong-pro­duced Big Cat Jaguar. Both have the same odd “Dinky Toy” logo and no fur­ther trade­mark or man­u­fac­tur­er infor­ma­tion.

To say the least, it is an odd busi­ness prac­tice to pro­duce toys in Italy, then have them shipped all the way to Hong Kong for pack­ag­ing. It’s no won­der that Air­fix would wind up going into receiver­ship in 1981!

8 — 201 Plymouth Stock Car (1979)

Dur­ing its last year, Dinky was des­per­ate­ly try­ing to cre­ate “new” mod­els with a min­i­mum of invest­ment. With its range of “cus­tomized” toys exist­ing tool­ing was dressed up with larg­er wheels, stick­ers, and plas­tic add-ons.

Image: DB Collectables

All the cus­tomized Dinkys are pret­ty dire, but at least the Corvette, Ford Tran­sit,  Land Rover, and Range Rover could have exist­ed in real life. But this use of the Ply­mouth Gran Fury cast­ing, which like the oth­ers was treat­ed to over­sized wheels and tires, is com­plete­ly unre­al­is­tic because no NASCAR stock car ever had four doors.

Either Mec­ca­no Ltd. thought (wrong­ly) that chil­dren would­n’t notice, or they were sim­ply beyond car­ing at this point. Either way, this mod­el is just embar­rass­ing.

9 — 367 Space Battle Cruiser (1979)

“Space is big, big busi­ness,” or so a 1979 trade fair leaflet for Dinky pro­claimed. But – maybe part­ly because of The Inves­ti­ga­tor deba­cle – Mec­ca­no Ltd. did not see the need to keep pay­ing licens­ing fees to Ger­ry Ander­son. Instead, the cash-strapped toy­mak­er decid­ed to cre­ate its own gener­ic space mod­els.

Image: Vectis Auctions

The first of a series was the Space Bat­tle Cruis­er, capa­ble of fir­ing two rather over­size “Try­gon” mis­siles. This bears a strong resem­blance to Ger­ry Ander­son designs but is not iden­ti­cal to them.

As not­ed on DinkyTVSpace.com, a plas­tic “Star­cruis­er 1” kit released by Air­fix around the same time did cred­it Ander­son. It includ­ed an Inter­cep­tor mod­el quite rem­i­nis­cent of the Space Bat­tle Cruis­er.

The Space Bat­tle Cruis­er’s nice­ly illus­trat­ed box tout­ed as a foe the 362 Tri­dent Starfight­er. This black lump of met­al had one spring-loaded “Stel­lar” mis­sile at the front and two more dum­my mis­siles on its wings.

The Tri­dent Starfight­er deserves spe­cial infamy because a spe­cial gold-fin­ished ver­sion was pro­duced as a gift for atten­dees at an Air­fix Group din­ner dance. This event was held at the Lon­don Hilton on 18th Sep­tem­ber 1979 – mere weeks before Binns Road closed.

Dur­ing its last year, Dinky would man­age to release sev­er­al oth­er space ships, includ­ing two “Cos­mic” vari­ants mar­ket­ed by Marks and Spencer. All were cre­at­ed with a vari­ety of recy­cled parts, includ­ing the chas­sis from the 729 Panavia Mul­ti Role Com­bat Air­craft.       

10 — 120 Happy Cab (1979)

Also dur­ing its final annus hor­ri­bilis, Dinky pro­duced the 115 U.B. Taxi, a car­i­ca­ture of an old-time cab that fea­tured an over­ly tall roof. This mod­el was cre­at­ed using the chas­sis of the 475 Mod­el T Ford and also its wheel tool­ing, though the spokes have been filled in and the wheels mount­ed inside out.

Image: Vectis Auctions

The U.B. Taxi report­ed­ly came about after Mec­ca­no Ltd. hired a mar­ket­ing man­ag­er who’d worked at Unit­ed Bis­cuits, one of its neigh­bors on Binns Road. The mod­el was designed to pro­mote Taxi bis­cuits, choco­late-coat­ed wafers that came in blue and yel­low wrap­pers.

In the­o­ry, the U.B. Taxi was only avail­able from Unit­ed Bis­cuits by send­ing in bis­cuit wrap­pers and a small amount of mon­ey. Odd­ly, how­ev­er, it was also fea­tured in Dinky cat­a­logues. Large quan­ti­ties of the mod­el obvi­ous­ly left the fac­to­ry through alter­na­tive chan­nels, since it’s very easy to find in mint-and-boxed form today.

Regard­less, the U.B. Tax­i’s col­or scheme gave it a cer­tain ele­gance. Not so for the alter­na­tive ver­sion I’m giv­ing my “ten worst” award, the 120 Hap­py Cab. The dec­o­ra­tions on this mod­el are inde­scrib­ably awful and would insult the intel­li­gence of a three-year-old.

Some sam­ples were released with­out the roof stick­er after the fac­to­ry ran out of them — an unin­ten­tion­al improve­ment!