The weird, weird world of forgotten car accessories

The modern car is an incredibly complicated piece of machinery, but it wasn't always like that. Decades ago we were expected to spend our cash on an array of accessories to make our lives easier and more comfortable – although how useful many of these products were is debatable.

We've been delving into our archives to bring you some of the best gadgets and accessories from years gone by – and what we found was fascinating…

Berkeley made full-size caravans as well as plastic-bodied microcars. This precursor to the modern teardrop caravan looks intriguing and horrifying in equal measure. Perfect for towing behind your Mini, the Caravette was quite costly for something so basic; at current prices this would cost around £2500.

Brexton made high-quality picnic sets, but the company also offered this clip-on table which allowed you to sip tea from fine bone china cups while you waited for the traffic to clear. Just the thing for your commute.

Why bother with cumbersome sun glasses or tinted glass when you could just bolt a massive wing to the leading edge of your car's roof? Not only did it keep the sun out of your eyes but it had the added benefit of giving your Austin A35 some extra downforce.

Could you imagine Lewis Hamilton promoting car cleaning products? Probably not, but back in the day Stirling Moss endorsed all sorts of products from oil and fuel to clothing and this – a duster to keep your car clean. It was so good that it was top of his Christmas present list. Hmmm…

Struggling to fit everything into your car? No problem thanks to this device which was the predecessor of today's roof boxes. Available in an array of colours, you could buy a Monsall holdall for pretty much any car on the market.

Post-war cars were renowned for having softly sprung seats, but Manchester company Mosely allowed you to go even further – inflatable cushions for the ultimate in comfort. Perfect until your darts fall out of your back pocket.

Who needs Recaro bucket seats when you could just clip one of these into the factory-fit front seat? Perfect for those trans-continental drives.

Not sure whether or not your brakes are working? A Bowmonk Dynometer will tell you. We're not sure how accurate the fuel consumption meter is, bearing in mind the Dynometer is just stuck to the top of the dash.

If you've removed the driver's door from your Triumph Herald there's every chance that you'll fall out under hard cornering. The secret is to invest in some Delaney Galley safety belts to hold you in place.

Jacking up a car can be quite stressful, but not with the help of Lake & Elliott, which has the perfect tool to make your life that much easier.

By the 1980s you didn't need a Bowmonk Dynometer – instead you could buy the latest digital trip computer. Nowadays you don't need a Sparkrite Voyager of course – all of its capabilities are built into the most basic of city cars.

If you needed a hose-down interior in your Wolseley it wasn't a problem thanks to Regency. Just fit a set of its seat covers and the muckiest kids or pets were no problem…

The idea of buying a car that needed an aftermarket accessory to protect its engine seems like utter madness nowadays, but it wasn't always like that…

In the 1960s an entire industry sprang up to cater for Mini owners. One of the biggest accessories brands was Cosmic, which offered an array of delights for the wondrous small car from BMC, including rear-wheel spats and a grille that appeared to stop air-flow into the engine bay.

Whether your battery, gearbox, fuel tank or roof is leaking, it seemed that the answer was to bodge it with a Granville Petro Patch. We're seriously intrigued that a Petro Patch can fix a problematic crankcase…

In an age of climate control, heated seats and steering wheels plus electrified windscreens, the idea of fitting a radiator cover to speed up the rate at which your engine gets up to temperature must seem like madness. But it used to be a thing – and a common one at that.

It's the accessory that every motorist needs – an inflatable canoe that you can carry in the boot in case you need to traverse a river at any time. This advert is from 1960, and if you buy the full kit at £25, that works out at £565 in today's money, so this wasn't a cheap accessory.

We've got used to touch-screen displays, Bluetooth and streamed music all fitted as standard, but more than half a century ago most cars didn't even come with a radio. Instead you had to buy an aftermarket unit, such as this 2-watt Elpico unit that at today's prices would set you back £350.

No wonder so many people died on our roads in the 1960s. Vehicle tyres and lighting were rubbish, nobody wore a seatbelt, and drink-driving was legal until 1967. You could also buy items such as this rear seat extension to allow your kids to sleep unrestrained on the move. The road safety lobby would be apoplectic at adverts like this now...

Presumably designed for use only when parked up rather than when on the move, the Cooper sleeping conversion allowed you to convert your family car's interior into a luxurious bed for the night, to save on accommodation.

We suspect the Advertising Standards Authority might have something to say about this one. The very idea of promoting shaving while you drive in our 21st century safety-conscious society shows just how much the world has changed in the past half a century.

Don't waste your cash on one of those expensive heated steering wheels when you spec up your new Range Rover. Instead, invest in one of these tasty-looking wheel covers; we'll take the ocelot finish please, just because it's a word you don't hear nearly often enough.

There really is nothing new under the sun. Now fitted as standard to most new cars, the idea of a puncture repair kit and a canister of gas goes right the way back to the early 1960s. Of course this BMC Farina would have had a spare wheel anyway, we hope.

Could you imagine a car maker promoting the need for a new powerplant in one of its cars? Such a lack of confidence would set alarm bells ringing, but engines weren't expect to last very long in the fifties and sixties, which is why manufacturers offered their own exchange engines.

Air conditioning is complicated and can be costly to spec on your new car if you're buying at the bottom of the price lists. But that's no problem with an Autoflex car fan, to help you keep your cool. Give the Pool Clock Co. a call and they might still have some in stock – although at current prices this equates to around £120.

Apparently a Thunderbolt will give you "greater comfort and protection", but we're not sure what from. While we wouldn't call the Thunderbolt beautiful, we do love it just for its over-dramatic name.

You can keep your fancy airbags, leather rims and heating elements – the next time we spec one of our long-termers we're going to ask for a Dover safety spring arm steering wheel. You know it makes sense.

We love the fact that there was an organisation called the British Hat and Allied Feltmakers Research Association; it doesn't seem to exist any more, but there is still the Worshipful Company of Feltmakers of London. We're also intrigued that a felt cap can protect you from head injuries; presumably it's got an armoured lining.

In the days before alloy wheels, keen motorists who wanted to make their car stand out from the crowd invested in some racy wheel trims. And what better than some chrome-plated trims from Horvell?

We're not sure we'd want to pull one of these lightweight single-wheel trailers at 70mph when empty, never mind when it's loaded up with suitcases. That one wheel looks about the size of the ones on a supermarket trolley…

It's not a coat Jim... it's a coat for motorists, from Thrussells Silverstone no less. Regrettably, 'The man's shop of the Midlands' seems to be no more.

The perfect idea to stop people driving recklessly – pin a picture of their loved one to their dashboard. Nowadays you can just use Facetime to watch your loved one in real time, though not while driving along, please. So much simpler…

Even into the 1960s a lot of cheaper cars didn't come with a heater, so it was left to motorists to buy an aftermarket unit and fit that instead. The Ventilor was electrically operated so as a heater it was probably fairly effective – but in hot weather we suspect it didn't ventilate the cabin too well.

In the 1980s things had progressed beyond mere heating and cooling, with Hitachi offering this wonderful gadget – an air purifier for your car's cabin. We wonder how many were sold.

Presumably the Polco defroster gun doubles as a hair drier. Just plug it into your car's cigarette lighter, press go and a continuous supply of hot air is generated. We rather like the idea of this one – maybe it's time to revive the defroster gun?

There's stylish then there's the Limpet tent from Alexander Brothers. This doesn't appear to have been designed as such; instead it was created from some offcuts of fabric which were then wrapped around the back end of a Morris Minor. And all for the princely sum of around £475 at today's prices.

And you thought climate control was a modern invention… If Venetian blinds were good enough for your lounge at home it was good enough for keeping your Triumph Herald's interior cool.

We take dash-mounted thermometers for granted now, but it didn't used to be like that. Instead, drivers had to invest in a separate external temperature gauge like this one – made by the Superb Tool & Gauge Company no less. So it must have been good.

It wasn't until well into the 1970s that heated rear windows became common; up to that point they weren't even available as an option on many mainstream family cars. But before heating elements motorists had to settle for one of these – a stick-on pad that didn't mist up, so you could see what was going on behind you.

Roof boxes are still popular but in the fifties, sixties and seventies motorists had roof racks instead. Guaranteed to create excruciating wind noise at cruising speeds, you had to tie your luggage to the frame and hope that it didn't end up all over the three lanes of the M1 as you went away for your holidays.

The fact that there used to be a Hatters' Information Centre pleases us no end. We also love the fact that you used to be able to buy an Alpine hat in "a great variety of gay mixture colours". Time for a revival?

Not too dissimilar from the single-wheel trailer seen earlier, this one is an older model that looks just as basic and just as frightening to use. Having said that, the car towing it is probably incapable of going faster than about 40mph, so there's probably a limit to how much carnage it can cause.

In the fifties and sixties, if ever a company needed to spell out the simplicity of its products it was always a woman who figured. Here, Shell and BP have joined forces to patronise women drivers of the time. We bet they were so very grateful…

Boil a kettle and prepare a fry-up as you drive. What could possibly go wrong?

It seems incredible that Velvetex hasn’t conquered the world since this advert was printed in 1970. Just why wouldn’t you want your car to feature the Hairy Look – the kind of finish more usually reserved for doormats or tennis courts?

This is rather a neat idea, but we wonder just how much the Foldaway trailer could safely carry, bearing in mind how flimsy it looks when it's folded away…

Couldn't afford an Aston Martin or Jaguar? No problem – just buy a pair of these driving gloves and your Austin Cambridge would feel ready for the Mulsanne Straight.

Ever felt the need to do some precision oiling? If so, what you need is a Lubristyl, so it's a shame that the company seemingly closed down in the 1960s. There clearly weren't enough precision oilers about.