Seventy Years of the Peugeot 403: The Rusting Beauty That Even Colombo Couldn’t Resist

Today marks the 70th anniversary of the Peugeot 403—a milestone that reminds us there was a time when car manufacturers knew how to invent things that were genuinely new and genuinely useful, long before the age of glossy marketing fluff. Designed by Pininfarina, this French mid-range model wasn’t just a stylish accessory; it turned out to be a trailblazer in more ways than one.

Unveiled on April 20, 1955, at the Palais de Chaillot in Paris, the Peugeot 403 was the first postwar entry in the “400” series. Modest on the outside, rational to its core—it introduced adjustable seats that could be tilted and raised and even transformed into a bed. In the 1950s, that sounded as futuristic as today's smart features, but it was real, mechanical, and it worked.

Under the hood, the mainstay was a 1.5-litre petrol engine delivering 58 horsepower—enough for the average driver of the day, with a top speed of 125 km/h that held its own on both city streets and country roads. In 1958, the model range expanded to include a diesel option—the first of its kind in a European sedan. That 1.8-litre Indenor engine offered 48 horsepower and a respectable 105 km/h. Hardly a sports car, but solid and reliable.

The Peugeot 403 was never just “another French car.” It was built in thirteen countries across five continents, from Uruguay to the Philippines to Nigeria—a global footprint that would make many so-called international models of today green with envy. And variety wasn’t limited to geography: the 403 came as a sedan, an estate, a van, and even a pick-up. That last version earned a loyal following in Africa for its dependability and easy maintenance.

Yet what truly etched the 403 into the collective memory was a disheveled Los Angeles detective in a crumpled raincoat with tired eyes and a battered Peugeot 403 Cabriolet. Peter Falk, as Lieutenant Columbo, gave the car more cultural cachet than any ad campaign ever could—not through glamour, but precisely through its weary, rust-speckled, seen-better-days look. There’s a certain irony in the fact that a car shaped by Pininfarina became iconic for looking like it had been left to rot behind a garage.

Beyond the screen, the 403 found its way into cinema history—in Godard’s À bout de souffle (1961) and later Monsieur Ibrahim (2003). It wasn’t a showpiece, but a tool that captured the spirit and the tempo of its era.

So if you happen to spot an old 403 rolling down the street, don’t just see the rust and tired lines. What you’re looking at is a rare specimen: a product of its time that managed to be practical, innovative, and gracefully enduring—even if, by today’s standards, it might resemble a sculpture rescued from the scrapyard.