Gangster or old giffer?
Posted by Tom Ford at 2:00PM on Thursday 21 February, 2008 1 Comment
Bit of a random exhalation of thoughts here, but tottering around the south of France this week testing the new XF, I had a bit of a revelation.
It wasn't with the XF - though the new Jag is a fine, fine car and worthy of its own space in another blog - but the cars that Jaguar used to pick up and deposit me at the airport.
What I noticed were the assembled XJs. Now I've always quite liked the XJ - it's a great-handling car that disguises its mass and it looks subtly grown-up. But the problem is always the messy, untidy old humans who drive them.
It just seems like 90 per cent of the old-giffer population of the world drives an XJ. In a bad suit, smoking a Cafe Creme. Strap in some infinitely more rakish younger blokes from the Jag chauffeuring squad, break out the black paint and slap on some delicious 20-inch rims and you're looking at a car that's pure gangster.
Suddenly the XJ doesn't look like a car that's due to be replaced in 2009/10. It looks like a movie star. It looks like the choice you make when you are entirely confident of who you are and what you're about.
Which in a black XJ on mighty hoops translates as rich... and comfortable with that.
So what I think I'm saying is that you, 99 per cent of the time, are not defined by your car. You make or break it, become the difference between looking like you're driving your dad's Jag, or looking like you own it.
I'd prefer to be the latter. But in black, on 20s please. I don't give a stuff how it rides.
To add to this question with a little internet poll; are there cars out there that are entirely driver-defined, or that get cooler when a certain someone drives them?
I'm not on about the obvious James Bond moments (though La Moore in the 2CV was pure class), but that 30-year old that drives a Bristol, or a grandma that drives a TVR? What's your best unlikely combination?
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Well said Tom. I'm 29 and about to buy a 2006 black XJ, sport premium, on 20s and no wood in sight. There's nothing old git about it at all.
I don't care if anyone laughs at me: I'll be comfortable, happy and feeling like a millionaire assassin in my big black Jag.
(Just don't tell anyone it's a diesel.)