Chrysler, under new ownership and management, and under pressure to cut its costs drastically, is planning to axe the slow-sellers in its line-up. One car possibly for the chop is the PT Cruiser.

The Chrysler PT Cruiser's been around a while, its initial novelty has long worn off, sales have petered out and it was never the most competitive car of its type anyway. It was neither a compact but roomy MPV nor a conventional but sportily-handling, fun-to-drive family hatch. Yet I was always rather fond of it.

The PT ('Personal Transportation') Cruiser started life as the Plymouth Pronto concept car and was so well-received that it went into production, based on the Neon saloon's underpinnings.

It was an instant hit: dealers couldn't keep up with demand, waiting lists were lengthy and many UK admirers couldn't wait for right-hand-drive cars and paid well over the odds for LHD imports. People went mad for its retro hot-rod looks: I remember driving one of the first press fleet cars to come to the UK and was mobbed whenever I drew to a standstill.

For a while, I thought it was a bit of a cynical pastiche of 50s style, but then I went to a pretty hardcore rockabilly revival weekend, the sort of event where everyone is impeccably dressed in period costume, with perfect quiffs, immaculate make-up and groomed with obsessive attention to detail. In the car park? Alongside the expected Vauxhall Crestas and other flamboyant British cars of the era, and a huge variety of imported, be-finned Yank tanks, there were PT Cruisers in every direction. If the PT was 'authentic' enough for this crowd it must have been doing something right.

For all its shortcomings, the PT Cruiser was at least unique, instantly-recognisable and also ideally suited to customisation - addition of 'flame' decals was near-compulsory. It certainly inspired more affection than a Scenic, Picasso or Almera Tino.

So RIP, PT: it was good to have you around.