I’m obsessed with a car. It’s not a fast car. It’s not a beautiful car. It’s not a car that would realistically draw any attention whatsoever. It’s the Volkswagen T-Cross, and my strange obsession simply refuses to wane.
The Volkswagen T-Cross entered the market in 2018 as a Polo-based crossover, debuting as a global model across Europe, China, and South America. The diminutive SUV sits as an entry level option in the Australian Volkswagen range, marketed as “sporty & smart” in a range of vibrant colors.
It might look flashy in the marketing images, but it is, by all estimations, a mass-market subcompact crossover with nothing unique to offer. And yet, I want one more than anything else I’ve driven in the last year.
This pox first struck me as a nineties affliction. I passed a T-Cross on the street in a fine neighborhood and was struck by its eye-catching teal finish, a shade from decades past. Deep, saturated, and rich, the paint elevated the T-Cross far above comparable product from automakers like Toyota, Suzuki, and Honda. Somehow, Volkswagen had mastered a combination of trim and colour that created the impression of a far more premium vehicle.
It somehow looked more elegant and important than it should have, given its price and size. I wasn’t sure entirely why, but I was allured to this vehicle from that point forward.
No spec sheet could explain my interest. The T-Cross boasts only a humble 114 horsepower from its 1.0-liter engine, just 148 pound-feet of torque. No upgrade is available here, no greater power or capability; just three cylinders, a tiny turbo, and a DSG transmission driving the front wheels.
Nothing about this should excite me. Yet I saw that car time and again, and others much like it. Teal, gunmetal grey, all shiny, all glossy and clean. It wasn’t the T-Cross. It was what it meant.
Without my knowledge, my mind had created a person, wholesale. The owner of the Volkswagen T-Cross, along with the ordered universe they live in.
They are not a car enthusiast. They do not know what an engine is or does. They do not know what a cylinder is or how many they might have. They know they drive a teal Volkswagen, and they park it in their garage. Their car is an appliance. A stylish one, to be sure, and one of suitable refinement to match the others in their home—the Smeg fridge, the Kitchen-Aid mixer, all gleaming with chrome.
The owner of the Volkswagen T-Cross is not like me. They walked into a dealership and purchased a brand-new Volkswagen T-Cross because they had the money to do so and they wanted one. They signed the papers, picked up the keys, and pulled away in their comfortable, attractive subcompact SUV, all shiny and green.
Their mind plays host to no Earthly concerns. They worry not of timing belts, oil changes, or transmission services. Their car is an appliance, one they can easily afford. When the Volkswagen T-Cross tells them to visit the dealership, they make the call. They hand over the keys, leave in a loaner, and the next day they return to pick up their Volkswagen T-Cross. When the warranty period is over, they will trade it in. Perhaps on a new Volkswagen T-Cross. Perhaps on something larger.
I came to realize I didn’t want the Volkswagen T-Cross, not for what it was. I wanted it because I wanted to be the owner of the Volkswagen T-Cross. I wanted to own a car. A new car. Without thinking about service intervals and oil changes and whether or not I need to do something about the quickening pace of the power steering leak. I wanted to wake up and put on nice clothes and drive my shiny new Volkswagen T-Cross to my well-paying job in the city where the undercover parking keeps the birds away from my brand-new Volkswagen T-Cross.
My dreams of Ferraris died long ago; not long after, my fantasies of Skylines and Supras went with them. These dreams no longer had any connection to reality; one might as well wish of winning the lottery or taking a vacation to the Moon. Perhaps that’s why the Volkswagen T-Cross called to me so strongly. A car, a life… better, but perhaps believably within reach.
I could probably have one, if I really wanted to. I could save some money, sell my car and a guitar or two, take out a loan, and work hard to pay for a brand new Volkswagen T-Cross. Maybe if I took out some overtime I could even get the R-Line in a nice color with the fancier trim.
But it wouldn’t change anything. Because the problem isn’t that I don’t have a Volkswagen T-Cross. The problem is that I’m not the owner of a Volkswagen T-Cross. Picking up the keys would not—could not—make me that person.
I’m not able to stroll into a glassy dealership and pay sticker price for a brand-new car without thinking. I’m not able to simply hand over my keys to a dealer for a scheduled service without wincing at the four-figure invoice afterwards. I’m not able to keep my car spotlessly clean week in, week out, and I don’t even understand how anyone achieves that kind of dedication. I don’t go to work wearing crisp shirts and expensive ties, and I don’t effortlessly park my clean European SUV in my own dedicated space that has my name freshly painted in big white letters.
Beyond all that—beyond what I am not—I found out what the T-Cross is not, too. Part of the dream died some years ago. Volkswagen dropped the Makena Turquoise color after the 2023 model year. Even if I fell into money, I couldn’t become that which I idolized. I could buy a T-Cross in Grape Yellow, Kings Red, or Silver, but it’s not the same thing.
Still, when I see that Volkswagen T-Cross, I see a better life. It’s just not one that I quite yet know how to have.
Image credits: Volkswagen
I had one as a rental during a family holiday last year. I booked a Jeep Renegade and was given the T-Cross instead. I was worried that it would be too small, but ee managed to get the five of us (including a child seat) and our luggage into it (barely). It also had the 1.0L turbo 3 with a DSG. It was adequate around town, but man, that thing struggled in the hills. I had to have it sport mode the entire time as normal mode just felt dangerously sluggish.
Another one of us, cursed with both that particular wrinkle in the cortex that goes, “we can get it cheaper and enjoy fiddling with it”, and that other particular wrinkle in the cortex that wishes that one wrinkle would cut it out for a minute.
Perhaps you can have a teal liner in your casket some day.
It’s why appliances with neat features sell well. Yes there’s a job to do. Doing it with a little style where appropriate is better than none at all. Maybe it’s the mouse that is a perfect fit. Or the little shimmer in a screen change. A little projection that is perfect for resting an arm on. The kind of thoughtful touch that shows someone was thinking about how humans would use and appreciate it.
I lived part of this life in my mid 20s with a sensible Clubman with three pedals. Never had any serious problems, just went to the dealer for service interval stuff, bills were three digits, life was good.
Now I curse at my ancient truck and slowly go insane trying to find replacement filter housings that support a breather hose for a Rochester single barrel. Because it’s not broken, so I don’t need to replace it. I do, however, need to fix the closed PCV system.
Wrenching misery finds us all eventually
Or the other way around.
Some people spend their formative years scrounging though junk yards just to keep their transportation alive, and eventually get to the point in life where their only vehicle repair tool is a telephone (and a healthy enough bank account).
I definitely did the former, and now I could possibly do the latter, but I still choose to partake in the wrenching misery (weather providing – I paid for an oil change a couple of months back because I don’t have a heated garage and it was well below freezing outside – still kinda pisses me off).
Whether this makes me a proper enthusiast is I guess open for debate, given my fleet includes a (much maligned) RAV4 hybrid (fittingly in white), an F-150 (V8, with a cattle guard no less) and a manual Miata.
I love all three of them, but they each serve very different purposes, and I do as much of my own servicing as I can.
Back when my “fleet” consisted of just a ten year old Celica, I did the wrenching because I had to, not because I wanted to.
Can you find a filter housing that is big enough to install the appropriate fitting in its underside with the proper baffle?
I’m honestly probably just going to 3d print a 5 1/8″ to 2 5/8″ adapter plate
I think aspiring to a financially comfortable, reasonably peaceful life is wonderful and most people who disagree are probably privileged snobs.
Financially comfortable and peaceful life, are not synonyms. Financially successful people have one of the highest rates of suicide demographically. Sometimes people get what they want, only to find out it is not what it is cracked up to be. I disagree with Dave Ramsey on a lot of things, but one thing that he has said I have found to be true in my life and experience working with wealthy people.
The reality of life is that often once you attain the life you aspire to, you find that while it may be free of the cares you previously had, new, and sometimes worse cares and concerns replace the ones you aspired to leave behind. A carefree life is like a unicorn; a fun idea, but ultimately a fantasy.
I understand and empathize with your current affliction Lewin… I too am, from time to time, afflicted by what I call an irrational aspiration when it comes to new cars. Even though I don’t need one, and would probably get an(other) ulcer if I actually wrote a check for MSRP (or more) for a new car I don’t need. Still, the urge persists. Daily.
And it makes perfect sense that something small, sensible, somewhat reasonably priced (in terms of our current dysfunctional reality) and even a bit stylish (in a generic, albeit tasteful way) is what’s caused you to feel that way. The closer of course, is a decent, actually color paintjob: that 90s metallic teal is soft, easy on the eyes, and just makes the car look happy. Honda offers a similar color on their Prologue EV and it makes me interested what’s otherwise a somewhat unremarkable GM EV crossover.
My current object of speculative desire is a ’21-23 Mazda MX-30 EV, but they’re still about $5K more than I can rationalize spending on a car that only goes 100 miles before needing to be charged. And I’ve had a refundable deposit down on a Telo MT1 small EV pickup for about two years now (I almost think of my deposit as an investment in the company, even though it doesn’t earn interest). And the EV that makes me WANT it more than any other lately is Rivian’s R3/X which looks like a bulked-up VW Rabbit from the 1980s with chonky wheels and it too, will come in some actual colors: https://external-content.duckduckgo.com/iu/?u=https%3A%2F%2Ftse2.mm.bing.net%2Fth%3Fid%3DOIP.cL-Bddpk9KG_9jpozCUs-wHaEK%26pid%3DApi&f=1&ipt=b5176ed789bbf380bdeb2dd1efaeaa54bbf30a417455772b597f8fe2e09f7a39&ipo=images
Desire, be it rational or not, is a powerful thing. 🙂
I’m sorry, but something named the T-Cross should have T-Tops.
For some reason I have a Spice Girls song now stuck in my head….and I never listened to the Spice Girls. Odd.
“Grape” is an interesting way to name a shade of yellow. Yeah, I know some grapes are yellow, but that’s not really where my brain goes when I think about grapes.
They couldn’t use Cherry Yellow because she dances at the club across the street from the Wolfsburg headquarters.
My first thought was that, as an American, grape defaults to purple, but maybe in Germany grape is yellow? Trying hard to be charitable…
But, if they’re just being weird, I’d have a lot more admiration for VW if they stick with it and next year offer Banana Green (and so on).
Ugh… there’s too much to unpack here, so I won’t.
Lewin… are you okay? Do we need to send someone to check on you?
This site will dabble in the philosophical, which is part of what makes it great.
If this is your dream, I feel sad for you.
My hot take – you can be a car enthusiast and be enthusiastic about something other than ‘it go fast’.
You can be enthusiast who care about design, about practicality, about ergonomics, about value to your daily life. If it impresses you, that’s enough.
vanguy and his custom Prius is a prime example of this.
Interesting cars do not need to go fast, but they certainly need to be *interesting*. One of my favorite cars of all the myriad I have owned was a 57hp diesel sedan from the ’70s. But that 504D oozed style and grace in a way this little dull little wart just doesn’t, even when painted in a vaguely interesting color. It’s completely interchangeable with every other car in it’s class. The only way you can tell any of them apart is by the badges.
If you are only after THE most practical, lowest TCO, anonymous transportation appliance for the Consumer Reports set, do you really care about cars and driving? Life is too damned short for that, if you actually like cars and driving. There’s a happy medium between this sort of thing and a hooptie that only gets you to work when it feels like it.
We live in a much, much grayer world than the 70s, sadly.
I guy I had working in my yard was expressing a little amazement at the pickup, BMW convertible and the GTI in my garage. I told him that life is too short to drive boring cars.
Hey, I’m a car enthusiast because I find the complexity of the supply chain and the vehicle itself fascinating. This bit is from Vietnam and this bit is from Canada and they were assembled in Mexico and they MATCH PERFECTLY. Amazing.
***Perfection of match may depend on company responsible for assembling.
Or even how the steering wheel is the exact same color as the dash, the door card, the floormat despite as you said being made all over the world. I know it’s all possible b/c of pantone numbers but it really is remarkable what humanity is capable of achieving. If only we could direct all this capability to something with more benefit for humanity.
I feel like this is the entire ethos of this website, and why I spend time here.
One of the reasons I’m driving around in an 18 year old Prius is that it was a car I coveted when it first came out. Is it fast? No. Is it cool? Bwahahaha. Do I love it? Absolutely.
Ditto my 2015 Fit EX. It was exactly what I wanted when I retired because I love it for its intelligence. I still do 11 years later.
My first word was car. I knew every make at 3 when the 1959s came out. I love the industry, I love design, the engineering, the marques, but when it comes to maintenance, I’m pulling out the credit card.
That doesn’t make me less of an enthusiast, just a different kind.
Sometimes I wonder about the meaning of becoming “car enthusiast”. Does it mean that you have to have detailed and specific needs/expectations to have fun driving a car? Or does it mean you can find something interesting and have fun with whatever car you have?
This is a pretty good enforcement of David’s repeated stance that we buy vehicles based on potential, rather than actual need.
I want a truck or SUV with a minimum towing capacity because I envision a trailer behind it with project cars on it.
It fits my mind’s eye of the scrappy ex-mechanic-turned-instructor that still lets the blue collar show on weekends.
You envision being the type of person that drives a sensible CUV.
Our vehicles are a reflection of us, whether we actually care about them or not.
This is why I hate my Sorento, which is a perfectly cromulent family hauler, so much. I bought it to fill the role I saw necessary to take on, but 3 years onward, I still don’t fit in that mental box, thus driving it upsets me.
As you stated in the end, buying one won’t make you the person you envision, I learned it the hard way.
Our last rental was a Skoda Fabia hatchback with that same 1.0 TSI I-3 engine (the 94hp version) and a 5-spd…it was delightful. Quiet, comfortable, nice basic controls, enough power to putter around, easily managed 50 mpg US on the return voyage to Cordoba, Spain.
But given the choice, I’d take an Octavia Estate with with the 1.5TSI and a 6-spd manual, please.
This is an extremely Autopian piece of writing, and I’m here for it.
Seconded
Thirded (?)
Kind of you to say.
TIL that there’s an appliance brand called Smeg. My inner 14 year old is overcome with joy. Do they have an accessory line called Scro?
I’m sure they exist somewhere but I’d like to meet the person who pairs a $20K subcompact VW with a $6000 refrigerator. That would be an interesting conversation.
Replace VW with Toyota crossover and I know that very person.
He is an interesting and incredibly nice if somewhat odd, but understands what he has signed up for, with precision. He used to lease full size top spec German luxury sleds and still has ample budget to do so. Why the small crossover? It fits his bike rack plenty fine gets good mileage, his children are grown and anonymity and easy parking and no maintenance headaches get him where he wants to be, the trailhead. It’s not a lease either, he’s had it for 5 years.
If he wants to go for a drive he can pull his owned from new Aston DB9 with 3 pedals out of the garage.
The kitchen specs? He is a cookery enthusiast.
I understand the mindset of your friend far better than the hypothetical VW owner.
A Toyota crossover is in many ways the best no-fuss family hauler available at any price. A rational person pairing it with premium appliances or even an Aston Martin makes sense to me. Hell, I park a Sienna in between a Viper and a CT5 Blackwing in my driveway.
A cheap subcompact VW is in no way class-leading at anything, besides perhaps repair bills as a percentage of MSRP. I don’t see too many people that can afford better willingly choosing to buy one. Which is why the hypothetical buyer would be so interesting.
Remember the episode of the Simpsons where they find Homer has a crayon lodged in his brain so the doctor removes it and he gets much smarter but deeply unhappy so he puts the crayon back in his brain to live in blissful ignorance? The T-Cross is that crayon.
This sentiment is exactly why the Rav4 has a full 3.0% share of the entire US car market. It’s fine, it works, its got enough space, power, efficiency, and features at a reasonable price, it’s handsome enough (to most people at least, I think it’s ugly) and it just works, all the time, without question. It’s mind numbingly bland, but that’s by design. There’s so much stress and anxiety for everyone these days, but to have something that just functions is a luxury in it’s own.
It’s exactly why I bought my CX-30 Turbo new, over going with something that would be more fun or enthusiast oriented. It had enough space for 99% of my needs, was fast and fun enough to scratch the itch, but I knew it would work, get me where I need to be, and cost a reliable and reasonable amount to own and operate. It checks all my boxes, has extra ground clearance over a 3 hatch to get me to outdoorsy stuff I do and handle crap roads around me, and is just normie enough for me to not modify.
This piece is exactly what I will be referencing from here on out when any enthusiast questions why boring cars sell so well. We Autopian readers are a very small niche of the new and used car markets. To most, cars are appliances, and there’s a premium that’s worth paying for simple, vaguely stylish but ultimately functional appliances.
Most people really don’t give the first crap about cars OR driving. They are an unfortunately necessary means to an end for them, and the RAV4 is perfect for that. It’s the modern equivalent of all the anonymous boring sedans of old.
But if you care about cars such to make a career about writing about them, I expect more enthusiasm. Torch or Mercedes would NEVER utter this nonsense, though I fear David is sliding into middle-aged complacency (or giving up on life). Though I hear writing for Consumer Reports is a REALLY good gig if you can get in the door. Friend of a friend has worked there for decades. Then you can write about all sorts of soulless appliances.
Though there is certainly a happy medium between giving up and buying a dull gray mini-crossover new (and they are ALL dull gray no matter the actual color painted) and owning a fascinating hooptie that you have to wrench on all the time. And for what one of these costs new, you have an absolute myriad of choices. I’ve driven a very nice now 15yo BMW convertible for four years now for less than the difference in sales and excise tax vs. a new RAV4, and it cost half as much upfront. Just one example. Puts a smile on my face just looking at in the driveway as I sit here at my desk. One of Bangle’s better efforts.
“I fear David is sliding into middle-aged complacency (or giving up on life).”
No he’s just discovered there are options in life other than being a rust covered, junker driving grease monkey. And I’m glad for him. I’d rather he “give up on life” rather than be a guy who shows garage queens with creepy dolls on them.
Exactly. When my wife and I first were married she had the new and reliable car and I decides to buy 30 year old Porsche because why buy about boring car when you can buy a much older and decrepit Porsche for the same money.
While that was broken I went through a series of 300 – $1000 cars that routinely left me stranded. I got good at wrenching in my employer’s parking lot after hours and wasting weekends wrenching.
A few years in my wife said “enough” we are buying you a reliable newish used car and be done with it. I got to say – owning a car that starts every time can be addictive
Just wait until Lewis and David experience the bliss of having someone else do boring routine maintenance on their car…..
Life is short – something Im more aware of the older I get and the more friends and family die off with a bucket list they didnt get to.
“Just wait until Lewis and David experience the bliss of having someone else do boring routine maintenance on their car…..
Life is short – something Im more aware of the older I get and the more friends and family die off with a bucket list they didnt get to”
The trick is figuring out whether the money spent on having someone else do that “boring routine maintenance” is worth the time gained. Unless you think spending $100-200+/hr to scratch your junk in front of the TV is money well spent you’re better off doing your own “boring routine maintenance”.
You’re really missing the point in both this overall article, and what I’m trying to say. Most importantly though, you’re projecting your own interests in cars onto all enthusiasts and effectively stating that “there are in fact wrong ways to enjoy cars, and if you deviate outside of this, you shouldn’t write on an enthusiast website” which is narrowminded and not what this site is about.
Furthermore, it’s important to note that having a working and reliable car, regardless of whether it is brand new, or aging and yet solid, is a luxury that not everyone can benefit from. Both you and I are fortunate to have vehicles that fit both our needs and our wants. It’s extremely easy to criticize an opinion that was formed under extremely different circumstances, whether they be financial, situational, or just based on life experiences and personal preferences. Automotive enthusiasm is very broads and extremely varied, and all forms are celebrated here.
I wont speak for Lewin here, but he’s had several articles here about how he has both has issues with his TT, and does not get to enjoy it as often as he would like due to the circumstances of life. Understanding that, the article makes a ton of sense, to shut it down and say that it’s nonsense and [insert xyz writer here] wouldn’t do such a things is similarly unfair to everyone involved.
I love cars as much as anyone else here, but my daily driver is a 17 year old Mitsubishi hatchback because I simply don’t have the time and energy to worry about having to fix things when they break.
I actually very briefly considered a hybrid RAV4 purchase a few years ago for the reasons you described. Gas was at 5bucks a gallon, I was sick of feeding my 4Runner. The RAV seemed like an economical, reliable appliance to commute back and forth to work and transport myself, my dog, mountain bike, and camping gear to wherever I needed to go. I was able to rationalize the lack of offroad capability by reasoning that with fuel cost so high, I was less likely to do that anyway, and mountainbiking is largely free if you already own the gear.
I mulled it over for a few days, did a little research, and ultimately decided that I did not aspire to own a RAV4 or be a RAV4 owner. I wasn’t willing to go into debt for an appliance vehicle, with the 4R being paid off, the break-even point at 5/gal was close to 9 years.
This was really more of a theoretical exercise anyway; at the time one could rarely find RAV hybrids, and those available had markups.
I do still think of getting a more streetable CUV for a DD, but it will be something a little more interesting.
Maybe a good thought exercise for us Autopians to consider how much thought we put into the design, capability, and brand identity of the washing machine we own or aspire to own. You know, your dream washing machine on the poster in your room. I imagine that’s probably what it’s like for everyone else when it comes to cars.
Translation: Sometimes only a peanut butter and jelly sandwich will do.
Translation: A peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off, served on a plate and eaten with a cloth napkin on my lap.
I understand, I had the same feeling seeing the Yaris-cross in Japan the first time.
Beautifully written, Lewin.
Agreed. Wistful, even.
Thank you. I’ve been waiting for the right time to pen this one.
I regret that in 3 trips to Europe/UK over the past few years, I don’t think I’ve seen a single one — rural, urban, anywhere. I don’t know what’s up with VW, but their popularity seems to be waning, or just that there’s too much competition these days (I can haz BYD here plz?). But on my last day in Spain this week, we sat crammed into a Corolla Wagon Hybrid taxi (also sort of want) as a Tiguan pulled up next to us with the same road presence as when you come face-to-face with a new GMC Yukon Denali in the States. It’s all relative.
What were we talking about? Oh yeah, so it seems like this is basically just a Polo Redux for the Crossover Era. Makes sense.
Those fucking Corolla Wagons!! They’re all over the place there (especially in Taxi duty), I just don’t understand why we can’t have them. They make me irrationally angry because they just make so much sense.
That plus it’s quasi-predecessor, the Prius V — a car that I thought made so much sense for so many people, yet they sold about two dozen here 🙂
Which explains why the USA got the our wagon as the Corolla Cross.
On my last trip to Europe I was coveting the a taxi – just as I used to covet the diesel manual C and E class wagons that the Corolla Wagon hybrids have replaced.
But alas we cant have wagons in the USA. The dream is dead and my Acura wagon will be our last.
TIL there’s a Corolla Cross (had to google it since I don’t think I’ve seen one, or maybe I thought it was a Highlander…)
I’ll keep my old “Euro-taxi-wagon” Passat as long as I can. The plastics on the dashboard are already epoxied and partly suspended by metal wire…
Longroofs of most any size are preferable to a jumped up crossover. They are just as roomy,’better handling and riding, better looking and just all-round better in most respects. OTOH, my sister has a CR-V that she figures works best for her gimpy knee. Just open the door, turn around and scoot onto the seat.
A CPO one in teal could be more attainable. Just sayin.
It’s not about the car. It’s about a yearning for things in life to be just a bit (or maybe a lot) different than they are.
The want for that particular car was a metaphor, and it (apparently) manifested without him initially understanding what it actually stood for.
The point is even if he got the car now, it wouldn’t resolve the underlying issue.
Either that or I’m reading way too much into the article.
I read it the same way, and related to it as a universal human experience.