Confessions of a Car Collector

As a car collector who hoards and saves weird and interesting cars in much the same way that delightful old ladies rescue and re-home cats, I’m often asked the very simple question; ‘Why?’ And it’s a good one. Just what is it that prevents some classic car enthusiasts from saying ‘no, thank you,’ when offered another tempting driveway filler – and how does one explain the magic of multiple motors getting us all hot under the collar? After all, when you peel and boil it, one decent classic car is all any of us really needs, right?

I’ve never been able to explain it. Since I was a small kid, I’ve always enjoyed collecting things. It started small, with pencil rubbers and keyrings, before progressing to Lego and Matchbox Cars. There’s a ‘completist’ mentality amongst true collectors, for sure – an innate desire to ‘finish’ acquiring every single different one of whatever it is we’re collecting, but in my case, I don’t even ever think that’s possible. For example, I love air-cooled Volkswagens with all my heart, and I’m lucky enough to own a handful – but can you even imagine what it would take to own one of each kind? How much money and space you’d need as a car collector for every model year, variation and body style? And then where does it stop? Do you go for one in each colour, trim code and engine spec? If you’re the Sultan of Brunei, the answer to all of these questions is always ‘yes’, but for the rest of us, a fair smattering of the range is usually more than enough to satisfy that collecting urge. Cars that really mean something or that resonate in some way. It’s where I started, after all. My very first car purchase, at 16 years of age, was a 1972 Beetle – and I’ve never been without one since.

Some collectors fixate on one model, to become the world authority on their chosen steed. They collect every spare, buy every parts car, rule the owner’s club and perhaps even pen a book with their peerless, encyclopaedic knowledge, but that’s not for me. I can admire it greatly, and I’m super grateful to the many that I’ve met over the years, particularly when they’ve been good enough to advise me on a restoration, or even sell me one of their cars for a project, but I think that I would simply be unable to work on the same cars, doing the same jobs week in, week out. For me at least, collecting has to offer a real variety. Knowing how quickly I can get bored, the cars around me need to bring new challenges, create additional opportunities or just tickle that itch that crops up every once in a while.

Anyone who has ever sat there in a late-night Instagram ‘scroll hole’ will know the feeling. You suddenly see a great video of say, an E36 BMW. You like how it looks and sounds, and before you know it, you’re checking out the hashtag, looking at dozens more, before you start searching the models and colours you like on Car & Classic. Moments later, you’re checking wheel fitments and rarities for a car you don’t even yet own. It’s a joyous journey of discovery that, before you realise it, means you’ve been stuck on the loo for half an hour, the kids don’t know where you are – and now you’ve got leg cramp.

Finding a new classic you love, or a new marque or scene, is a lot like meeting a new partner. There’s that wonderful moment at the beginning when you don’t know anything about each other, and you get to learn what makes them tick – or indeed, tickover. As time progresses, if you’ve chosen wisely, hopefully all the things you liked in the first place become more deeply ingrained, and before you know it, it’s a full blown love affair. Obviously, in both cases, at some point, there’s a possibility that you might get bored or frustrated with the other party, and it’s at that point that sensible and rational people simply sell their car and move on to the next. Or perhaps get divorced. One of these options is definitely cheaper than the other, however.

Me? Well, I just keep adding. Cars, not wives that is. Thankfully, I’m still on the original model there, and perhaps that’s one of many reasons that I’m lucky enough to afford the motors that I have. Speaking from a purely automotive perspective, once that initial joy of a new flame has dulled a little, it can simply be parked in the corner of the workshop until that ardent urge returns, and in the meantime, I can simply save up my pocket money and add something else to the collection to satisfy whatever inner 9-year old flashbacks that my brain is telling me to satiate. Something with a V8, usually – and you can blame that squarely on a diet of American television as a child.

The only downside to being a car collector and owning more than one car, of course, is that as well as the delight of having a miniature fleet at your disposal, you can also look forward to the logistics – and invoices – that match. It can almost be a full time job running a high car count, and it’s probably not best to ever stop and tot up exactly how much has been spent over the last few years. Particularly if you are trying to stay on a low wife count…

Paul’s Pontiac Tojan definitely understood the weird and wonderful assignment

I’ve always collected with my heart, rather than my head, buying cars that I like, that have great back stories, or ones that are just plain weird or rare. If it’s got that indefinable ‘X’ Factor, and I can afford it, then it’s probably going to have to come home. That buzz of finding something new or disappearing down that rabbit hole of research is always too great a thrill. As the old lady said to the cat’s home, ‘There’s always room for one more…’

Recently, Car & Classic came to spend a day at my place to have a look around and discover just how and why those cars managed to end up there in the first place. You can watch our video here.

And of course, if you want to start your own classic car collection, you’re merely a click away…