The car, not the skirt. I’m not a car guy, but the Mini was always something else. When I was a small child back in the mid-1960s we had a Mini Cooper S, gray (as I recall) and with a white roof – and it was something else: the last great British car, and the final word in chic as we Austin Powered our way through the conurbations of my home county – Clippesby, Oby, Scratby and Thurne. It’s good to see it’s back even if the Mini is now, ahem, German.
Share this story

About the Author
Andrew Stuttaford is the editor of National Review's Capital Matters.
Advertisement
Advertisement





Comments