In the earliest days of the automobile industry, cars were hand painted in the same time-consuming and methodical fashion used to finish horse-drawn conveyances. Many layers were involved, each requiring sanding and time to cure, and the entire undertaking stretched on for weeks. This procedure slowed the assembly line and required ample real estate to park all of the cars in the various stages of the finishing process.
The revolution came in 1923 when DuPont developed a nitrocellulose lacquer called Duco. The great inventor Charles Kettering, VP and director of research for General Motors, was responsible for many innovations in the auto industry, and he is also credited, in large part, with the development of the Duco finish. This entertaining excerpt is from the 1929 book, Men, Money, and Motors by Theodore McManus and Norman Beasley:
Kettering was also responsible, in a large way, for the development of lacquer finishes on automobiles. Years ago he, like everyone else in the industry, realized that mass production methods could never be really efficient until the time spent by cars in paint shops was greatly reduced.
He was also impressed with the idea that the finish was no good, despite what the sales and advertising departments said about it. Regardless of claims of the paint manufacturers who insisted:
“It is the best finish in the world.”
“They don’t mean that,” thought Kettering. “What they mean is: ‘it is the best finish they know anything about.'”
He called a meeting of paint experts. Told them his problem. “It is taking too long to dry and the finish isn’t any good,” he declared, and explained that thirty-seven days were required for the finishing of a Cadillac automobile.
“We think we can help a little,” they promised.
Then went out for lunch.
When they came back they said: “We can reduce that time to thirty-four days.”
“I think we ought to reduce it to very much less time than that.”
“How much time do you think it should take?”
“About an hour.”
For a full minute there was silence, then all clamored together: “You can’t finish an automobile in an hour.”
“For what reason?”
“Because the paint won’t dry.”
“Can’t you do something to make it dry faster?”
This time they had him in a corner.
“We have exhausted everything that is known about dryers and you can’t finish an automobile in an hour, or two hours, or a day because Nature, when She made the materials going into paint, fixed the length of time for drying.”
Kettering was in New York a little while afterwards and saw some pin trays in a Fifth Avenue window. He inquired about the finish and learned it was a lacquer that came from New Jersey. He tried to make arrangements to get a quart but found he couldn’t because that much had never been made at one time.
“What do you want to do with it?” he was asked.
“I want to finish an automobile door.”
“You’ll never finish an automobile door with that.”
“Why not?”
“It dries too damn fast.”
There he had two extremes. With some good cooperative work between the du Pont Company and General Motors research laboratories, the painting time was reduced to where it is now possible to give several coats within an hour.
That, briefly, is the story of Duco.
Kettering himself repeated this story on occasion, and it is relatable to anyone who has ever found themselves having to challenge the “We’ve always done it this way” mindset.

The first automobile to sport the new Duco paint was the Oakland, an entry-level automobile that General Motors acquired in 1909 and produced through 1931 when the Oakland Motor Car Company was absorbed into Pontiac.

Oakland chose a shade of blue to inaugurate the new finish and then cleverly promoted the automobile as the “True Blue Oakland Six.”

This advertisement discusses eight Oakland features with number five highlighting the Duco finish:

Dealerships demonstrated the durability of the Duco finish with tests involving things like ammonia, acid, fire, and hot tar:


Oakland called the color of its cars “Holland” blue and accented it with red or orange along the beading and around the centers of the hubcaps.

I found this photo online. It is a 1924 Oakland, and it is located in New Zealand. It does not say if the paint is original, but it still gives you an idea of what the “True Blue” Oakland looked like. It is an amazing survivor either way but, seriously, clean off the bird doo.



