Your car choice says a lot about you – whether it’s what you meant or not…
We know people choose cars in order to convey a message about themselves, but your choice of transport also confers a degree of image on your surroundings – imagine the raised eyebrows if you arrive at the golf club in your muddy Toyota pickup.
During the 1980s, when every self-respecting Sloane and yuppie drove a Golf GTi, an army friend of mine was temporarily attached to a very smart RA regiment in Germany. He drove an MGB, which was acceptable to the mess; in fact he scored points for being quirky back when driving an old car was an adventure, not a fashion statement. But there was muted horror when a new young subaltern arrived equipped with… an MG Metro Turbo. To his brother officers that was beyond the pale.
One day the new second-loot was invited out to the ranges, and was surprised to see his Metro parked on the heath. Whereupon it was blown into a million pieces. He was handed a cheque for the value, the result of a mess whipround, with the message, “Now buy yourself a Golf.”