My Wife Wants A Word With You.
I was sitting outside my local pub in East London back in 2018 when I met my now husband for the second time. I turned when I heard the deep roll of an engine as a car pulled up next to the pub. I am certain to this day that I fell in love with the car before the man. It was a Land Rover Defender 90, in Corris Grey and in perfect condition (with the snorkel and everything)
Why?
For a Sunday morning that starts with a slight blip of the throttle to hear a throaty cold start, a flat-six echoing off dry stone walls, or the tinkling of the exhaust after a particularly spirited drive, not a softly humming EV on a charger with fake exhaust notes half heartedly piped into your speakers. The cars from the 90s and early 2000s especially speak to me. They remind me of an era that was both exciting and imperfect, full of personality and promise.