This was a twenty minute doodle, and really didn't work out all that well at all. A typical chase-the-line excercise where, as always, I have absolutely no idea what it'll turn into as it develops, the only thing I had in mund from the beginning was the front grille and headlamp treatment. As it happens those are probably the only aspects of the doodle that I'm happy with.
With me doing far more work over on Hooniverse these days I thought I might make RoadworkUK a little bit more Chris-Centric. A bit more me, me, me. Kind of self-absorbed. I thought I might make a start by uploading my little, silly, disposable sketches as I do them, rather than just throwing them away.
Yeah, I know. Nothing but tumbleweed blowing across the vast, empty plains of RoadworkUK for ages now. But I've been busy. Decorating the worldwide HQ of Roadwork, for one thing, necking slugs of nice, warming Adnams Sloe Gin for another. But writing for unfeasibly excellent American website Hooniverse, for the most part.
The feature I've been posting (on a damn near daily basis) for Messrs Odell, Glucker, Emslie et al has been based on car brochures from the, um, weighty collection I've amassed since, er, birth.
Brochures can be comprehensive, brochures can be informative. Brochures, can sometimes, intentionally or not, be hilarious. Whatever the case, it's always fascinating to see how the manufacturers intended their products to be publicised. The rhetoric, the chutzpah, the lies, even.
I'm going to keep on with the series until, well, until they tell me to go away. To keep up with my ramblings de jour; Click here to read my stuff on Hooniverse.
Meanwhile, things will materialise over here on Roadwork from time to time, I promise.
I have been fascinated by this car for pretty much all my life. Or, well, since I was five, anyway. I was walking back home from some kind of mundane shopping exercise or somesuch, and a car being driven by one of her friends drew level and offered us a lift. It was a tedious car, bland beyond any kind of recall in the future, or it would have been had the dashboard not completely hypnotised me.
Please remember, I was 5. That's my excuse.
I did try, to go cold turkey on eBay, I really did. But to no avail. I blame Saturday shifts at work, where I arrive early and the internet is just..over...there and there's all that lovely stuff out there for such low, low, prices.
Anyway. This weeks bounty came slithering through the letterbox and plopped right down onto the mat, causing great joy in my soul. It's a 1966 US Ford catalog(ue) and a brochure for the Seat Malaga.
It's been an exciting week, as you can see.
In 1988, when the Suzuki Cultus was launched in its second generation guise, it must have looked as if it came from some point in the near future, mainly because the outgoing model was about as radical as a side parting and starched collar. What we didn't realise then was that it would still be with us in fifteen years time. In fact, the example you see before you, as a '98 example, comes from bang slap in the middle of the Hungarian production run. So, for a car to last for longer than some religions, it must be doing something right?
Well, this one has just washed up as a trade-in where I earn the several pence a week that keeps me in All-Bran and economy margarine. We've got three C63 AMGs and an S63 Biturbo in at the moment and none of those have tempted me to grab the keys. The Suzuki, though?
Let me at it!
