I’ve owned several iconic Jaguars over the years, and I loved every single one of them. My favorite was a 1990 XJ12 Vanden Plas—a true classic. Sure, it had its quirks (what Jaguar doesn’t?), but that just added to its charm. Once, the steering column broke, leaving me able to make only left-hand turns. If I dared to turn right, all the power steering fluid would leak out. Navigating the city became an adventure of left-hand detours and U-turns. I kept a stash of power steering fluid in the trunk, topping it off as needed until I finally took it to a shop.
When they fixed it, they conveniently forgot to reinstall the engine block pads. Every bump in the road turned into a clattering symphony, making it feel like the entire frame was shaking loose from the body. But I didn’t care. I adored that black cat with its oatmeal interior, burl wood dash, and fold-down trays in the back—an echo of an era when luxury wasn’t just a tagline. It reminded me of those old Grey Poupon commercials—not that they ever featured Jaguars, just Rolls-Royces or Bentleys. Still, it felt like it belonged.
Then there was my XJ6 convertible, a sleek ragtop beauty that purred perfectly for years. I eventually sold it to trade up for an even more impractical vintage Mercedes G-Class. What can I say? I have a weakness for timeless, quirky machines.
But for me, Jaguars were never about the ads or the gimmicks. (Though let’s be honest, that fusion of a Benetton “United Colors” vibe and Apple’s Orwellian hammer-throw commercial with its "Think Different" ethos was something else.) For me, it was always about the design—those iconic curves, the elegance, the unmistakable character of a Jaguar.
That’s why the upcoming 2026 Jaguar, set to be unveiled on December 2nd, leaves me utterly heartbroken. From the teasers, it looks like a soulless remix—a clunky hybrid of a 1990s Bentley and the angular harshness of a Cybertruck. It’s as if someone tried to design a Jag by committee, stripping away all the passion in favor of hard lines and focus groups. And to market it at Bentley-level pricing? I fear it might be the final nail in the coffin for Jaguar enthusiasts like me.
I only wish they had bowed out gracefully—like the sleek, regal cats they used to be. Instead, this feels like a tired, declawed exit.
P.S. Let’s not even get started on the logo—it looks like the clasp on a bargain-bin Michael Kors handbag.