Special editions are released thick and fast these days, but what message does that send, ponders Chris
How many standard Bugatti Chirons were built? Not a question I ask myself beyond extended soaks in the bath when my mobile phone battery has died and my brain is close to shutdown, but one I find interesting nonetheless. The process of ‘uniquifying’ massively expensive production cars offers a fascinating window into a world where the words ‘bespoke’ and ‘narcissistic’ seem to be indistinguishable from each other.
It was the same with the Veyron. There was the Grand Sport and the Vitesse (wasn’t that a Rover?) and the orange and black one. And the one with porcelain bits. But how many were just bog standard Veyrons? Not many judging by the ones that come up for sale. I’m fairly sure the rarest Veyron is the base model because the company pandered to the billionaires and gave them special models to make them feel even more special.
If, like me, you’re a child of the Seventies and Eighties, you’ll find this special model business completely confusing because a special model of a car – and by that I mean a mostly cosmetic exercise and lick of paint – was a sure sign of one thing. That the car was soon to end production and the manufacturer desperately needed to flog a few more before it was euthanised to make way for the snazzy new one.
Ford was the master at this – base level Escorts would be burnished with some fancy wheel trims and an electric aerial for the cassette player, then a snazzy advertising campaign would lure in the punters. They were all at it – even BMW shunted 6-Series loaded with extra goodies and called them Highlines.
There was an honesty about this. To all involved, manufacturer and consumer, the process made sense. When something was new, it sold on merit, but as it became older and less competitive against its peers, it needed an extra streak of lip gloss and a shorter skirt. The way this process works no
