I wanted to note something which we all know exists but find it hard to put a finger on - that is the Bristol mystique. A car so exclusive and bespoke that no one has actually heard of it, despite its 50 years and more of existence. Like the private club hidden from view but abuzz with patrons once you make your way inside, the company has survived through the traumas which have brought other small volume manufacturers to their knees through the loyal support of its customers. Where does the appeal lie and why are people attracted to such an expensive and seemingly old fashioned car in the first place?
First, one of Bristol's core values is tradition. The original company has its roots in a tram making business, which would, if it were around, be almost one hundred years old. Then we have the aviation tradition, the fighter aeroplanes of WWI and WWII. Later, Bristol's foray in the commercial aviation business, the Concorde connection and ultimate absorption by British Aerospace. The car tradition began in the late 1940s, but given that the 400 has such a close link to the BMW 328, that is perhaps where the real car tradition take hold. Although it is very much a cliche now, Bristol was one of the first car companies to use aviation industry synergies to good effect. You have all seen the Saab and slightly ludicrous Toyota Celica advertisements drawing parallels with the aircraft and their motor cars. The 404 mimicked the Brabazon air intake, the seat belts on some early cars are aircraft surplus items, the instrument binnacle and layout is aviation inspired, publicity photos pose the cars beside the planes, aluminium bodies, etc. all subtly implying that your Bristol car was a land bound fighter plane. More than any other manufacturer (save Morgan perhaps), Bristol reflects upon that era with greatest vigour. The modern cars are named after the aeroplanes of the era and they do roll off the tongue in the same way that a schoolboy in England of the 40s might name them. The basic design concepts of the time, e.g., coach built body, steel chassis, live axle, leather trim, remain intact. Perhaps this is out of deference to the achievements of the aeroplane company, in its golden age, or simply lack of development? Maybe it panders to older buyers sense of history or attachment to the way things were once done. Who knows really and it does not matter, it is all part of the mystique.
Second, there is exclusivity. This one is difficult to fathom because Bristol are almost so exclusive that they cease to be "exclusive", more of an irrelevance. And, paradoxically, that's how the classic Bristol customer might like it. Take for example a Rolls-Royce or Ferrari owner, while not disparaging these products or their owners, the owners place great value in them as status symbols. The cars flaunt these characteristics - each Rolls has a flying lady and almost every Ferrari is red. The car and its image are inseparable, the image is half the value of the car. The Bristol owner, however, looks upon this as posturing. Bristols have no distinctive nameplate, the name is always written in small lettering and the shape is always a case of form after function. It is aerodynamic without seeming so, it is exclusive without announcing it. A Bristol blends in and offers its owner reliable, speedy transport which turns the eye of connoisseurs only. Not even for Bristol the vulgarity of advertising, the virtues of the cars should speak for themselves and showmanship is not welcomed. The flip side to such austerity is that it is impermissible to raise production beyond the lowest of levels. Keeping this secret among the existing circle of owners is paramount. The odd result of this is that a car costing a good deal more than your average Porsche when new is worth a good deal less than your average Porsche after a few years. It could also be argued that this hyper-exclusivity is more the result of a small advertising budget and a conservative management.
Third, the company displays the utmost in practicality. The Bristol is exclusive but not exotic, it is a car meant to be driven, fixed and driven again. There is no good reason why a Bristol could not be driven until the owner gets thoroughly fed up with it, that is, the owners patience will break before the car does. The mechanicals are common place and durable, the car is put together with the best of materials and by the best craftsmen, the chassis and body (with some preventative maintenance) should last longer than any person could. The brief of "dignified express travel for 4 six foot persons and their luggage", has a lot to commend it. This emphasis on functionality does not sit easily with the kind of customer who would otherwise buy an Aston Martin - no one pays that much for a car and seriously needs to drive it. A leisure car need not have easy to reach fuses nor a conveniently located spare wheel. Does then the Bristol buyer (not actually needing these conveniences either) become attracted more to the notion of practicality than the use of it? He likes the idea that the car is easy to service but would he really do it himself or does he have that much sympathy for his mechanic? On the second level, for a classic enthusiast, it is a godsend. One of the victims of this practicality is the car's styling. While the shapes are generally pleasing, in no way can it said to be in the same league as Aston Martin or Jaguar. But then, we are hiding our light under the bushel and why not cloak the car in an eminently practical aluminum skin and leave the thief magnets to someone else? Everything in a Bristol, it seems, should be an acquired taste.
As an owner of one of the older cars, the mystique takes on a different glow. It is no longer a case of Savile Row suits and the unostentatious gentlemen's express. Sure, it harks back to that but mostly it's a case of fabulous touring cars having a decidedly limited audience. They are affordable, the parts can be had but there is a sense of frustration that the cars will never regain the mystique they had when they sat on the production line at Filton before delivery, being tailored to suit that first owner. Often the cars have been worn down by a hard life before the classic enthusiast rescues if from the heap. While in the UK, the cars have built up their numbers sufficiently over their 50 year history to merit their place in any decent classic car show and everyone knows the aeroplanes and all that alludes to, in the US the common refrain is one of disinterest. Interesting car but, Bristol, never heard of them. Maybe we can all be satisfied with that, since we only need a few hundred believers to carry the torch, no more no less.
Submitted by
Shane de Búrca