No one knows of its origins, yet the term hairdresser’s car, the most dismissive quip of them all, has been with us for as long as, eh, Marmite. The expression manages to say everything and nothing. Some cars, irrespective of their owners’ profession, have suffered, and at the same time, revelled in the accusation.
Take, for example, the Mazda MX-5. If ever one car warranted the term, it is this knock off Gucci handbag. It ticked all the boxes: Critically, affordable; it was, in equal measure, flash, offensive and fun, If the MX-5 were to morph into a woman, she would be the girl you had fun with on a Saturday night, but never, under any circumstances, allowed your Mother to grill over a Sunday roast.Â
Fast-forward twenty-odd years, the MX-5, the car, lest we forget, that saved Mazda from extinction, has spawned many a motoring atrocity. The concept of cheap and cheerful has been taken and run with by design teams the length and breath of Europe. The ever-expanding ‘Hairdresser’ genre includes the horrendous Ford Ka convertible; the kitsch Peugeot 206cc, and keeping the Aspidistra flying high, Audi’s TT: the salon manager’s raison d'être.
It now appears Volkswagen want a bigger slice of this sugar pie. Pioneers of the Golf cabriolet, a car which only looks approachable in its original form, VW have come out with a poncy ‘adult’ convertible for the thirty/forty something denial set. Yes, you know who you are. We all know who you are!
The stupidly named VW Eos is the latest object of pavement derision. Take the word Eos – in Greek mythology, Eos, as the dawn goddess of the rosy fingers, opened the gates of heaven so that Helios could ride his chariot across the sky. I wonder how far anyone would get telling this yarn before the loon police arrived.
Briefly, I’ll try removing my snob hat and talk about some of the Eos’ less celestial virtues. As far as looks are concerned, ignoring the fact that this is an oxymoronic posh hairdresser’s car, the Eos is quite an attractive piece of kit. This is mainly due to the fact that the roof breaks down into five sections, rather than the standard two. This effect means the boot isn’t laboured with a behind à la J Lo. This small blessing allows the Eos to fulfil the brief of a four-seater convertible. Unlike many of its rivals, the VW can comfortably seat two adults in the back. I dare say, the problem might be finding two adults willing to sit there.
There are four petrol models and one turbo-diesel to choose from. The whimpering 1.4-litre TSI model only has 120bhp and should be ignored. The 148bhp 2.0 litre is a slightly better bet. A 2.0 litre turbo is borrowed directly from the Golf GTi and is more fun to drive. The Queen of the range, the 3.2 V6, is impressively quick, if offensively priced at £29,000. The Eos is pitched somewhere between rivals from Vauxhall and Ford and more upmarket competition from Volvo and Audi.
On all models, the folding roof design includes an integrated sunroof. Every model comes with alloy wheels, air-conditioning, all-round electric windows and a CD player. Sport models add firmer suspension, larger alloy wheels, aluminium trim details and foot pedals. The Sport model also has 'cherry red' rear light clusters to distinguish it from non-Sport versions. Models marked ‘Individual’ have their own two-tone leather interior and their own style of alloy wheels. The less said about these last two points the better.
The elephant in the room, however, is that keyword quality. Everything you touch – the gearlever, window switches, the seatbelt slots – feels cheap. Quality continues to be VW's biggest challenge, and the choice of an assembly plant in Portugal for the Eos suggests there might be some challenges ahead. Fortunately, Wolfgang Bernhard, the VW division's president, has staked his reputation on a 50 percent reduction in warranty costs for the VW line in the near future, so the outlook for improved quality seems brighter.
As with Marmite, this car, and this genre clearly have a place in the market. Whether one can ever understand this phenomenon, is a wholly different proposition. I, for one, am not converted.
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