To admit to a liking for the 2002-’05 Ford Thunderbird feels a bit like giving away a guilty secret. But here goes.
Its appeal has grown on me by stealth; I didn’t take much notice of the 1999 show car by J Mays or even the late-2001 launch of the production version, where it garnered feverish interest and public approval, feeding an apparent appetite for a blue-collar glamour car that was going to come in at under $40k.
There was later a flicker of recognition at a test day when Ford had one on hand to try. I can’t recall if I drove it, but it struck me as something that I wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen in.
I have only recently learned how short-lived these 11th-generation Thunderbirds were, and how the applause that greeted them 17 years ago has now turned, in some quarters, to sneers and derision.
Car and Driver even voted it one of its most embarrassing ‘car of the year’ winners.
I don’t care about any of that. All I know is that they look great, my epiphany moment coming when I snatched a glimpse of an all-black example cruising through west London.