As I pottered
down to the pie shop today I witnessed one of today’s less interesting
motoring phenomena: the saddo in a Saxo. Citroen seem to have cornered the
market by offloading their Gallic shopping trolleys to style conscious British
teenagers. They must be laughing their socks off in Paris as their diminutive
mummies car proves a sell out to adolescent boys.
As I watched the shirtless waif emerge from his car I reminisced fondly. Back
in the eighties size mattered. Blokes had muscles and guts, not exposed ribs,
and they drove the biggest cars they could lay their hands on. The top of the
tree was of course the Ford Granada. With enough room to seat most of the Royal
family, this was a practical, versatile and stylish workhorse. Here was a car
you could arrive at either Ascot or a blag in equal style.
Pub car parks were filled with burly blokes emerging from four-up Fords.
These days scrawny teenagers mince in and fumble with the front seats to free
their anaemic rear occupants. No pub was worth going to without a Granada Ghia X
slung across a couple of parking spaces. The Ghia X - the peak of automotive
evolution. Even more stylish when fitted with wheel spacers to kick the remoulds
a couple of inches out of the arches - class. Somehow the Citroen Saxo
Summertime Special doesn’t cut the mustard with me.
A weekend of
car care in the eighties involved kicking away the rust with your DMs, slapping
on a few pounds of Isopon and chucking a bag of cement in the boot to improve
handling. Never mind front end resprays, eighties man was very handy with a roll
of masking tape, a few copies of the Sun and a broad brush.
Reflecting these sad changes in style, Halfords isn’t the same as it used
to be either. Now it’s full of fake twin headlamp kits (how sad are they?) and
fluorescent bumper strips. I’m worried that the genetic desire for bolt on
lights and ill fitting front air dams may have been bred out of the modern
teenager. No self respecting Escort Mk II owner could be without a pair of 150W
Cibies weighing down his rust speckled bumper a few years ago. It was well worth
the risk of electrical fires to bolt on the biggest buggers possible. Cos it was
cool! These days the adolescent trolley jockeys seem content with driving around
with their factory fit fog lights on all the time. Where’s the single rear
floodlight strapped to the back of your modern teen transport? Nowhere to be
seen. It’s a disgrace.
On my return from the pastry outlet, my young friend was bouncing back into
his pedal car with far too much zest for my liking. Resisting the temptation to
re-educate him physically, I merely observed as he adopted the mandatory teen
driving position, with his chest pinned firmly to the wheel, peering over the
paltry bonnet. There’s a playground rumour that the further forward you sit,
the more momentum you’ll have… basic physics innit?
Sadly it looks like this so called evolution is set to continue. There’s no
ready supply of old blaggers’ cars any more because no one makes them. Kids
need role models and there’s no obvious transport for a self respecting
dubious character any more. I’m fearful of the day that they remake the
Sweeney with Jack Regan lolling in the passenger seat of a Galaxy 1.9Tdi…
1 / 2