# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Toyota's youth brand offered a range of options and accessories, but enthusiasm diminished, and then Scion vanished

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Toyota's youth brand offered a range of options and accessories, but enthusiasm diminished, and then Scion vanished

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Toyota's youth brand offered a range of options and accessories, but enthusiasm diminished, and then Scion vanished

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Toyota's youth brand offered a range of options and accessories, but enthusiasm diminished, and then Scion vanished

# data.attributes.body.value
How do you do, fellow kids? In 2003, Toyota’s hip ’n’ happening youth brand Scion sauntered onto the US market – skateboard over shoulder, baseball cap jauntily askew – aiming to elicit a feverish OMG from the millennial crowd who viewed the Toyota badge as impossibly geriatric. But barely a decade later, Scion was dead. What happened?

Things started brightly. Scion offered, initially at least, some interestingly boxy designs, a youth focused range of options and accessories (exhaust kits! Decals! Tamagotchi holders! OK we made the last one up!) and a no haggle price policy, because if there’s one thing the youth hate more than anything in the world, it’s an extended conversation about money with some dude in his 50s.

The kids were on board. In 2004, Toyota announced the average age of a Scion buyer was 35 – pre-pubescent, by car buying standards. By 2006, Scion was shifting 173,000 units annually.

And then it all went – as they used to say in the 2000s – decidedly Pete Tong. Some blamed the financial crisis. Others blamed a run of ropey facelifts that left the Scion range looking more frumpy than funky. But the true culprit was... Gen X. Scion’s youthful audience became infiltrated by the middle aged.

Turns out 50-somethings were just as enamoured by mildly sporty styling and not having to ingratiate themselves to a dealership salesperson. They also had a chunk more disposable income than 20-something college grads. By 2007, the average age of a Scion buyer had risen to 43, kiboshing any early kudos the brand might have garnered with the millennials.

By 2010, annual Scion sales had sunk to 45,000 units and Scion was quietly euthanised in 2016. Company sources optimistically claimed this was merely the natural conclusion of a successful market experiment, but you don’t tend to terminate experiments if they’re making you millions of dollars a year. The millennials had issued their Scion verdict – less OMG, more meh.

# data.attributes.body.processed
How do you do, fellow kids? In 2003, Toyota’s hip ’n’ happening youth brand Scion sauntered onto the US market – skateboard over shoulder, baseball cap jauntily askew – aiming to elicit a feverish OMG from the millennial crowd who viewed the Toyota badge as impossibly geriatric. But barely a decade later, Scion was dead. What happened?

Things started brightly. Scion offered, initially at least, some interestingly boxy designs, a youth focused range of options and accessories (exhaust kits! Decals! Tamagotchi holders! OK we made the last one up!) and a no haggle price policy, because if there’s one thing the youth hate more than anything in the world, it’s an extended conversation about money with some dude in his 50s.

The kids were on board. In 2004, Toyota announced the average age of a Scion buyer was 35 – pre-pubescent, by car buying standards. By 2006, Scion was shifting 173,000 units annually.

And then it all went – as they used to say in the 2000s – decidedly Pete Tong. Some blamed the financial crisis. Others blamed a run of ropey facelifts that left the Scion range looking more frumpy than funky. But the true culprit was... Gen X. Scion’s youthful audience became infiltrated by the middle aged.

Turns out 50-somethings were just as enamoured by mildly sporty styling and not having to ingratiate themselves to a dealership salesperson. They also had a chunk more disposable income than 20-something college grads. By 2007, the average age of a Scion buyer had risen to 43, kiboshing any early kudos the brand might have garnered with the millennials.

By 2010, annual Scion sales had sunk to 45,000 units and Scion was quietly euthanised in 2016. Company sources optimistically claimed this was merely the natural conclusion of a successful market experiment, but you don’t tend to terminate experiments if they’re making you millions of dollars a year. The millennials had issued their Scion verdict – less OMG, more meh.

# data.attributes.field_standfirst
Toyota's youth brand offered a range of options and accessories, but enthusiasm diminished, and then Scion vanished