Prices of select ‘80s and ‘90s cars have climbed 64 per cent in the last five years, according to collectable-car insurance company HagertyIllustration by Carl Wiens
Like big pants and small sneakers from the era, cars from the 1990s and early ‘00s are having a moment. Think six-disc CD changers in the trunk, well-worn leather and designs that run the gamut from curvaceous melted-soap bars to boxy utilitarian SUVs. There are the original Fast and Furious-era tuner cars from Japan and Europe, as well as the preppy chariots of wealthy suburban parents.
“Cars from the mid ‘90s to the mid 2000s are being elevated exponentially, in terms of their market [value] day after day,” says Jake Auerbach, co-founder of New York-based collector-car advisory Morton Street Partners. According to collectable-car insurance company Hagerty, whose RADindex tracks the value of select ‘80s and ‘90s cars, prices have climbed 64 per cent in the last five years.
But there’s more to it than misty-eyed millennials driving up prices of the old cars they remember fondly from childhood (or video games). Nostalgia is only the “taproot” that’s bringing a new generation into the retro car world, Auerbach says. As with vintage clothes, furniture and watches, the appeal runs deeper. Vintage cars are signifiers of taste, a rejection of the mass-market consumption all new cars necessarily represent, and – at a time when new cars function a lot like smartphones – another escape from screen time.
“More than anything it’s about cars coming out of their silo and into that shared space of design, architecture, art collecting,” says Auerbach, who previously worked for RM Sotheby’s auction house. “We’re definitely at a moment for this thing. There’s a level of attention to cars – from collaborations and collectability – that’s sort of new and that’s pretty cool,” he says.
In August, cult-favourite Tokyo-based label Visvim launched its second Visvim Motors Club capsule collection. It includes, “footwear and clothing that you want to wear when you get into that old car,” according to company founder Hiroki Nakamura. (He’s into vintage cars like he’s into vintage denim and artisanal garment dying techniques.)
Hypebeast-favourite label Aimé Leon Dore recently customized a 1986 Porsche and released a collection of period-appropriate Porsche-branded oversized jackets. Even Lego is getting in on the action. Its $330 model kit of the ‘90s-style Mercedes G-Class SUV is – let’s be real – not for children.
Earlier this year, through Morton Street Partners, Auerbach helped curate the first automotive sale for Pharrell Williams’s online auction platform, Joopiter. It featured a bunch of so-called “rad-era” cars: a 1997 Ferrari 550 Maranello, a 1991 BMW 850i tuned by Dinan, a green 1996 De Tomaso Guarà and a 1991 Lancia Delta Integrale (formerly owned by NY pizza impresario Scarr Pimentel). Tyler, the Creator is also a Lancia Delta Integrale fan, owning at least two of the Italian rally-racing legends. The musician has, Auerbach thinks, helped push a newfound appreciation for ex-race cars and tuner cars.
The BMW Neue Klasse concept car takes its design cues from the '80s and '90s.BMW
Even the design of new cars is coming back around to taking cues from the ‘90s and ‘00s. Designs were simpler then, says Jose Casas, BMW’s head of exterior design for midsize and luxury-class models. “That cleanness on the surfaces, on the graphics, that’s something the human eye always likes,” he says on a video call from Munich. “In a way, we are going back again to that kind of simplicity […] to be as dramatic and emotional as you can with less elements,” he said. (Last year’s Vision Neue Klasse concept, which takes cues from late ‘80s and ‘90s BMWs, previews a new design direction for the German brand.)
BMW Neue Klasse concept carBMW
No matter what they look like, however, new cars are unlikely to ever replicate the tactile, mechanical experiences of their predecessors. Allyson Rees, senior strategist at trend-forecasting firm WGSN Insight, noted ‘90s cars offer, “a much more tactile and emotional experience and they require you to be much more present while driving.” That respite from screens is, she added, appealing for millennials who spend much of their time online.
Auerbach also points out that older cars don’t have an app. They don’t unlock as you approach. You have to physically unlock them and turn a key to start them. They offer a less-mediated encounter with the world. “I think everything we’re sold today is about convenience,” Auerbach says. “There’s a beauty in the inconvenience of an old car.”
There’s a similar beauty to be found in the analogue functionality of Leica’s new $13,000 M11-D digital camera that doesn’t have a screen to display photos. The same goes for dumbphones, which are supposed to reduce screen-time and distraction by virtue of their simplicity. A little bit of inconvenience (so long as it’s of your choosing) is a kind of luxury.
As for what the next wave of cool and appreciating classic cars will be, that’s likely easy to predict. Auerbach calls it the poster-car theory; in 25 or 30 years just look back to the cars Gen Z and Gen Alpha revere on Instagram or TikTok today. The Tesla Cybertruck could be a grail in 2050.