A Date To The Auto Prom
The Detroit Auto Show
January 20, 2025
Today is the last day of the Detroit Auto Show.
It used to have a much grander name: The North American International Auto Show.
But those days are long gone.
Around since 1965, it used to be a big deal in downtown Detroit. It brought in the big automotive players with their latest cars and tech. Journalists from around the world came through because big announcements were made here. Concepts were launched; new ideas debuted.
But what it used to be is the issue here. We’re nostalgic for what it was, but here locally, it seems like people don’t want to admit what it is today.
For years, it’s been fading. That flicker of light in your eyes from remembering what it was like as a kid is about to be completely exhausted.
There are many reasons. Other conferences around the country, like CES, have taken charge as the tech inside the cars has become bigger than the car itself.
The timing itself is an issue. Would you prefer CES and its glitz in Las Vegas in January, or a trip to the dredges of a grey winter in the Motor City? But when they tried to move it to a warmer month, it almost derailed the whole thing. Bringing it back to January was supposed to be a smart move, in theory.
But there are fewer big name automakers here. Locally, the real party was moved off-site to designer nights finding fun elsewhere through fashion and fast cars. (Really loved this story from auto reporter Phoebe Wall Howard.)
With the big players gone, there’s lame experiential stuff to fill up the space left behind, like being the passenger (you don’t even get to drive!) in a Jeep while it goes over man-made obstacles. It would be considered a thrill level one at any traveling carnival that pops up in an abandoned mall parking lot.
This year, I finally got invited to the coveted auto prom, which I’ve always wanted to go to.
Talk about feeling like a kid again.
It’s the annual charity preview of the auto show, where the local broadcast stations dress their talent in gowns and tuxedos, doing interviews with local celebrities and grabbing soundbites from the mayor and governor.
It’s $400 a ticket ($700 for a pair -- what a steal). The steep cost of admission has meant millions for local charities over the years, tallied at more than $125 million for children’s charities in southeast Michigan since 1976. That’s lovely.
I was lucky enough to be a +1 of my hot date, so I didn’t pay the price of admission. But I did rent a tuxedo to fit in amongst the crowd, which cost me nearly the amount of a ticket.
Which grants me the ability to say… the cost of that ticket is not worth it, even with the charitable angle.
I had to walk around the entire first floor twice before I found a bar, expecting it to be open considering the price of the ticket.
But it was a cash bar. The one I found was slightly more elevated than a bar at a frat party might be displayed -- fifths of liquor sitting on the table, limes and lemon available and some mixers but not much else.
Once I had a drink, multiple groups stopped me to ask where I got it from. We were all lost in this carpeted desert, trying to quench our collective thirst for $8 a beer.
While waiting in line, a man from Chicago with his nephews chatted me up. They had been coming to this auto prom for six years and “this was the worst they’ve ever seen it,” he said.
There were rumors of a buffet upstairs and that one of the car companies was running an open bar at their display. But if you’re at a $400 gala event and rumors of where food might be start to spread, I promise you something has gone terribly wrong on the logistics side.
The only food I could find were buttered pretzel nuggets tanning themselves under a heat lamp for hours somewhere between the Toyota and Cadillac displays.
The highlight of the night? Flo Rida, the superstar pop rapper with a catalog of mega-hits like “Low” and “Good Feeling,” racking up billions of streams on Spotify. This man was made for corporate events like this, working the crowd like a pro and welcoming up women in gowns to come dance with him. Even Flava Flav, who has adopted Detroit as a second hometown, stopped by to perform throughout the set. What a treat!
And if you thought you could just simply walk away from this event, shaking your head and telling yourself not to come here again, THINK AGAIN.
The weather was terrible outside, so everyone was using coat check to store their jackets. And in Detroit, that means expensive furs and designer items coming through the auto prom. The one thing this event was not lacking was high-end style and fashion.
And it turned into a coat check Armageddon, like if every plane at the airport got grounded and chaos ensued.
It’s so messy that the local news picked up the story a week, later telling a tale of a woman who lost her dead sister’s jacket to the madness.
About a dozen cops had to help distribute coats. Some people said they stood in line for nearly two hours.
I talked with an EMS worker who said that at least six people had fainted waiting for their jackets.
For $400 a ticket, this is what people got in return.
You could make the most of it if you really tried, but there’s no kidding ourselves here. There’s no nuggets of nostalgia to stew over anymore.
The Detroit Auto Show is dead.
And the way things ended at the auto prom, it’s a good thing that everyone got out alive.
This post was published in conjunction with WDET.
