The third round of the Meguiar’s Tom vs Dale build-offs might sound like an old-school Ford vs Volkswagen grudge match but, with two of the UK’s most creative modifying brains on the case, that rivalry has never looked fresher…
Here’s Ferry Porsche presiding over what looks like a management meeting. He’s flanked by his oldest son, design director Ferdinand Alexander – or Butzi as most people now call him – and his nephew, technical director Ferdinand Piëch.
A background in competitive motorsport through the Seventies and Eighties means that Stuart Simons is a man with a need for speed; a need he has satisfied by building his dream MG Midget. Don’t be fooled by its diminutive appearance because Stuart’s MG packs an incredibly powerful punch.
It’s likely that among the cars we have here, for those of a certain age at least one bounces off the page, rebounds off memories of teenage bedroom walls and slams straight into your affections. Hands down, for me it’s the Cossie. Not for me Porsches, Ferraris or Lambos. For many others it was the same – why? Because this was a Ford Sierra – a car that, albeit initially unloved, swiftly became as much a staple of British life as Woolworths and Bullseye. Only this Sierra had a turbocharged fourpot and a rear wing seemingly large enough to perch Concorde on. Oh, and with some relatively minor modifications, could be tuned to 350bhp and beyond, blowing automotive exotica into the weeds.
The Audi Quattro was by no means the first four-wheel-drive road car, but prior to this they were exotic curiosities or (slightly) sanitised off-roaders. The UR-quattro was something different. Previously, the performance car was largely defined by an even number of cylinders, usually naturally aspirated and rear-driven. The Audi Quattro stripped all that away with a warbling five-pot and a turbocharged surge that brought white-knuckle wastegate-whistle adrenalin to a relatively mass-market executive coupé – one that looks like it’s been pounding the weights in the gym. The sheer brutality of designer Martin Smith’s vision is still staggering. Remember – the Quattro was launched when the condom-beaked MGB was still on sale.
This is not an Eighties car, I can hear the naysayers proclaim – and yes, the elegant E24 first edged its (shark)nose into public consciousness halfway through the Seventies. However, it’s here because it was the halo car for BMW’s Eighties ascent into the upper echelons of desirability. We have to strip back years of 2 Series Active Tourers and ratty 320Ds to uncover the BMW of old. The badge was a status symbol – king of the keyfobs at yuppie dinner parties. All the prestige of a Jaguar or high-spec Rover without the whiff of old-school England, and much sportier than a Mercedes-Benz. The BMW was engineered of the right stuff – its sharp, crisp lines a foil to British notions of luxury and prestige still predicated on more chrome, wood and leather than an MP’s secret cellar. BMWs were properly expensive too – sift through the price list of the era and the difference between a E24 635CSi Highline like the one seen here and the top-of-the-tree M635CSi E24 could swallow a semi-detached home in the Midlands. So E30 3 Series aside, Eighties BMWs were always a fairly rare sight; nowadays every third car seems to wear an ever-more gopping kidney grille.
The Eighties has never been more popular – take a look Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill, which topped charts in eight countries 37 years after its release. Netflix’s Stranger Things TV series has thrust the Eighties aesthetic straight into the mainstream, with a younger audience warming to the fashions, music – and, of course, the cars.
Keys on the table – I grew up hating the Testarossa. It seemed to exemplify everything I detested about the Eighties. Four-wheeled cocaine for the personality deficient; a Ferrari for whom saying they owned a Ferrari was more important than driving one; (questionable) style over substance – the opposite to a tuned Cossie. However, much as you need to be of a certain age to appreciate certain things – oysters, whisky, Pink Floyd – your first proper experience of a Testarossa will blow away any preconceptions. It’s sheer theatre – yes, there’s no getting away from its hedgerowtroubling width, but it’s also low, very red and festooned with the era-defining accoutrements we simply don’t get now. Pop-up headlamps, side strakes, antennae-like mirrors? Pass me the pastel shirt and loafers.
Frazer Nash-BMW may be a mouthful but the 319/55 proves small can be beautiful. We drive the 55bhp 1937 sports car that introduced a German juggernaut to the British market, setting off an improbable chain reaction.
The Ford GT40 earned its place in motoring history via Le Mans success, but not all were destined for competition. Today we see how this rare road car copes with the realities of street life in 2023.
