The Patina Fad Has Been A Polarizing Trend For Way Longer Than You Think

The textbook definition of patina is “a green or brown film on the surface of bronze or similar metals, produced by oxidation over a long period.” And similarly, “a gloss or sheen on a surface resulting from age or polishing.”

But really, patina is much more than a simple oxidized layer of dust.

It’s a badge of sorts—a battle-weathered scar bearing testimony to all the lives an object has lived. And as simple-minded humans obsessed with our own mortality, we are downright fascinated by old things. So much so, that we put them on dainty white pedestals under mood lighting in multi-million-dollar museums and charge people money to look at them, while simultaneously forbidding them from speaking above a whisper. We snatch them up at yard sales and flea markets, treat them to some upcycling or restoration and then coin terms like “shabby chic” and “antique primitives” to justify their new, inflated pricing.

And well, some us imitate natural patina, prematurely aging an object in the hopes of achieving a look or adding some legitimacy to it.

Within car culture, the Patina Wars wage on—especially as rat-rodding continues to gain popularity.

Some see it as a practical way of making your ride stand out. “Anybody can have a shiny new paint job, but faded and rusty fenders are a statement! No wash, no wax, no worry,” says one forum commenter.

Others see it as but one part of a larger process. “In my youth, if you bagged a barn find that no one had messed with, you were lucky. But the aim was always to return it back to its glory days. Am I missing something?” asks another.

Some respect the patina, but take issue with the rust. “A work in progress can definitely be respected, but a rusty pile of sh*t is just that,” adds one enthusiast.

But the one thing nearly all of these keyboard warriors seem to agree on? Faux patina is a faux pas.

“Original paint is good. Patina for the sake of patina is old hat.”

“I like originality—but something is only original once. I hate faux patina since it’s not original to the car or its history.”

“Nothing more vomit-making than faux-tina.”

The funny thing is, faux patina isn’t anything new.

In fact, some of the oldest-known references we have to patina are—sorry to say—the fake kind. Pliny the Elder of ancient Rome (Yea, THAT far back) wrote extensively on the different kinds of patina, including those that were artificially applied.

And for centuries, patina evolved from a simple marker of age to an authenticator of status. Expensive, new things might show people you have money—but expensive items wearing generations of patina? Well, that tells people you have old money. The kind that carries indicators with it—like class and lineage and unnaturally good posture.

But like all things that get deeply woven into culture, eventually a bunch of young bohemians come along and “rediscover” it, making it trendy and new. (In this case, hip Renaissance artists.) In fact, by the 1700s, people were so crazy for the patina fad that some artists actually began blowing tobacco smoke over their paintings to artificially age them, hoping it would sweeten the asking price.

And like all trends—in all times—the patina fad eventually puttered out, slowly fading into the background, as a culture of mass production and mass consumption took over, held aloft only by us weirdos who love the smell of old books and see thrift shops as modern treasure troves.

And, like all fads, the patina craze has returned—from home decorating to jewelry, car styling to fashion. It’s everywhere.

But its popularity has historically ebbed and flowed. So, is this just another season of trend? In 50 years, will patina still be popular? Or are we going to look back at ratty muscle cars with the same feelings of regret we have for bowl cuts and parachute pants?

Personally, I think patina will always have its supporters. Because, seeing a classic car with natural patina is a bit like finding your grandma’s old diary. It’s a record of all the dings, dents, hard knocks, and heartbreaks the old girl has felt over the years—it’s authentic and special and worth preserving.

It’s also affordable—which is a point we all like to forget during all the mental reflections on *time* and *legacy*. Have you actually priced out the cost of restoring a hot rod, lately? It’s damn near unrealistic for the average enthusiast. Even if you’re just looking for one to occasionally drive and enjoy, the prices are exclusionary. In this sense, adopting the natural patina feels like a small rebellion—a tiny middle finger, if you will—to the ever-climbing prices of doing things “nice.”

But like everything else in life—there’s a sweet spot.

Natural patina lends a certain credibility. Hell, even some faux patinas are done well enough that the end result is desirable. But spending countless hours and big bucks to fake the look, or driving around in a literal rust bucket are both extreme ends of a spectrum that leave the love for patina feeling more like a “fad” and less like a time-honored tradition.