Shock and horror! Self-confessed futurist, concept car enthusiast, and lover of all things new develops fondness for utterly ordinary, 30-year-old cars.
Unless badged 300SL, XK140, or something equally emotive and rare, a 30- year-old mass-market car in the 1980s would have been something like a Morris Minor or a Ford Anglia. To my (then) teenaged self these were old, horribly uncool machines patently unworthy of admiration or affection. Besides, I was too pre-occupied with the present.
Do not blame me, the ’Eighties was the decade of fuel injection, multi-valve engines, blistered wheel arches, and body kits. It spawned such legends as the Mk2 Golf GTi 16v, BMW e30 325i, Sierra XR6, and Kadett GSi – everyday family cars with sporting intent. Add the unobtainable international trio of Mercedes-Benz 190E 2.3-16, BMW M3, and Lancia Delta HF Integrale and there was simply no space in my head or heart for anything old.
Not just cars either, my teenage aversion to the ‘stuff’ of yesterday was broad. Take furniture for example: to a kid obsessed with Philippe Starck and Kartell, Marc Newson and Vitra, the French mahogany writing desk my great grandmother was as desirable as a Formica-topped, chrome-edged dodgy diner booth table. For me, ‘antique’ equalled musty junk to be discarded rather than cherished for its fine form, craftsmanship and truth to materials.
It was grossly ignorant but I saw anything labelled ‘vintage’ as a financial compromise, bought simply because you could not afford new. As for ‘classic’, that word was reserved for the very best of the new. I remember asking a friend in 1988 whether he agreed that the Bros single – **When will I be famous?** – was classic. He did. Oh, the shame!
I also remember the disappointment when family friends’ ‘classic’ cars turned out to be a Packard or God forbid, an Oldsmobile. So, it is rather amusing that I find myself now, more than thirty years later, trawling the online classifieds and social media marketplaces for old cars. Despite the constant deluge of high-performance fresh metal of today, the desire to own a vehicle from the late ’80s grows daily.
It does not even have to be the halo model; gosh, a mid-range E30 in great condition gets an alarming amount of my attention these days. It possesses a surface simplicity and a purity of line that is a calming balm to the slash and crease disease that permeates contemporary car design.
What is more, I am genuinely intrigued by events such as the Festival of the Unexceptional – a car show that celebrates the utterly ordinary. Escort, Mini (the Issigonis one), Ascona, Sentra, Cortina: these 30+ year olds are not classic cars in the implied sense; they are still uncool and I would not be opening my wallet for any of them soon.
However, I happily admit to a growing appreciation. Cured of my ageism? Not quite – you still would not catch me anywhere near an antique furniture store.
– Wayne Batty
