Words: Paul Cowland
Since its very inception, the motor car has always been a way for its owner to telegraph their style and status to a wider audience. In fact, scratch that, even before the internal combustion engine was a twinkle in Nicolaus Otto’s eye, the well-heeled – and well-wheeled – have always used their coaches and carriages to signify wealth and success.
And over the last couple of hundred years or so, not much has changed, really.
It’s the very bedrock upon which almost every automotive brand is built. Yes, Chardonnay and Brad at number 32 *may* have chosen their PCP-funded Mercedes AMG Line for its engineering quality and exquisite driving experience, but I’m also prepared to bet a couple of month’s interest-free payments that it was also to demonstrate to Mr. Fletcher at number 34, as well as their burgeoning ranks of TikTok followers, that things are all going rather well, thanks for asking…
For some people, sliding gracefully inside their chosen Italian Supercar steed, is precisely like slipping on a similarly elegant designer suit from Milan. You’re one person when you’re outside of the car, or wearing your £12 George T-Shirt, but when you slip on the tailored wool jacket, or close the carbon fibre door, you’re somebody else altogether. You feel different. You act differently. It’s a proven psychological effect that even has a name; ‘unclothed cognition’.
Try it for yourself. Slip on Sunday’s jogging bottoms and tracky top, and walk around the block. Now, change into a well-fitting suit, and do it again. My guess is that you’ll walk just a little taller on the second lap. Similarly, slide inside £300’s worth of scrapyard Metro, and then slide across, if the sales person will let you, into the cabin of any recent Bentley. My reckoning is that you’ll be soaking in the sense of occasion before you’ve even closed the considerable heft of the door.
Anyone who’s followed me on social media, watched me on TV, or had the misfortune to meet me in real life will already know that the world of fashion has not just passed me by, but clearly never even been in the same postcode. I’m comfortable with this. Brands and broadcasters do not hire me for my sartorial elegance. Conversely, when the Discovery channel actually attempted to hire a stylist to improve my approval ratings with certain key demographics, they gave up after a single day, realising that my own self-collated fashion set-up (which has been described as both ‘Giant Toddler’ and ‘Dad at a Barbeque’ by notable fashionistas) was basically, unbeatable. Some people were born scruffy, and this is a cross I will forever have to bear.
Perhaps, because of this, when I ‘slip on’, or more accurately, ‘slip in’ to whichever car I’m wearing that day, I tend to favour the more attainable end of the market. I have been fortunate enough to have had the keys to countless exotics handed to me over the years, and I have invariably enjoyed them all. Lamborghinis, Ferraris, even Paganis have all been ‘tried on’ for a brief period, and while I very much enjoyed the drive, and revelled in the dynamics and engineering, as I’ve done the all-important drive-by test in a sizeable window, analysing how the car looks ‘on me’, it’s very much felt like I’m wearing someone else’s exquisitely stitched silk jacket. Thanks for the chance to try it on, my friend, but have you got anything in denim?
Conversely, when I find myself back in a 1970s Beetle, any 90s hatch or Saabs and Subarus of any denomination, I feel immediately at home. They fit, as the tired motoring adage adeptly describes, like the proverbial pair of old slippers. I drive past the same window, and it just looks right. The cabin feels like home, the switches and controls feel intuitive, but more importantly, the vibe and aesthetic is precisely as I wish to present myself. Would I ever arrive at a business meeting in a Lamborghini? You can pretty much bet your house that would never happen, but would I gently cruise up in my mint-condition 1999 Subaru Legacy GLS? Without hesitation. And guess which one will elicit the more interesting conversation with my host, when I do?
The nearest I’ve ever got to supercar ownership was the acquisition of my lovely 997 GTS. Bought from Litchfield with just 6,000 miles on the clock, this stunning Riviera Blue example is exactly the car I would have ordered from the showroom floor, had I possessed the necessary funds in 2011, (which I very much didn’t, by the way). That car is about as smart and elegant as I’m prepared to dress myself, and notably, mainly because it still gives me the same aesthetic and vibe as my favourite ‘Cal-Look’ Beetle. Only with a touch more horsepower and a couple of extra cylinders…
In an internet age where I see influencers borrowing cars for ‘clout’, or even passing off press cars as their own simply to get clicks, take this advice from a scruffy, old, car enthusiast; stop worrying about being seen in a car that you feel will impress other people, and simply find the automotive equivalent of an outfit that you truly feel comfortable in, instead. Wearing a three-piece suit is great if that’s genuinely the fit you enjoy wearing, but wouldn’t you prefer to be wearing a T-Shirt and jeans on a daily basis?
As notable American writer and poet Ralph Waldo Emerson once so eloquently put it, and I may be paraphrasing a little here; ’To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.’ He wrote that in 1841, in a world that couldn’t have even dreamt of the concept of social media likes or Instagram algorithms, but he had a point. Don’t buy a car that you feel will make you popular on social media, or boost your YouTube views if it’s not something that you wouldn’t want to own anyway. Buy what feels right, and the right crowd will eventually join you. And, when they do, they’ll all think you’re some kind of other-worldly fashion guru…
The personification of this mantra is Hagerty UK’s own ‘Festival of the Unexceptional’, held this year on the 25th July, once again, at Grimsthorpe Castle. Continuing my rather tenuous analogy, this fabulous event presents a field of enthusiasts who very much feel at home in their automotive outfits of choice. The weird, the rare, the wonderful. An oasis of comfy cardigans and tatty trainers in a world of constrictive corsets and overly elegant evening wear. My kind of people, in other words. Come and find me, if you’re there. I’m the tall one that’s dressed like a giant toddler.
What do you think – can an old Beetle or Subaru say more about who you really are? We’d love to hear your thoughts and stories at hdc@hagerty.co.uk