Remembrance of XK-E past

It’s an Avon bottle which contained a likely malodorous aftershave designed for the hunt. But it’s also a talisman in British Racing Green of another coveted feline, slender curvaceous object of men’s lust, if too an extension of phallus, the Jaguar XK-E.
Jaguar XK-E coupe Avon bottle

This is the Jaguar which Harold [of Maude] converted into a hearse. It’s the 1960 street distillation of the fabled twelve-cylinder D-type racing champion.

My father had an opportunity to buy a mint condition E-type but for having a teenage driver in the house. I had to settle for an Opel GT, the German worker’s counterpart to the Corvette/Capri/XKE. My dad hastily traded this before I could even see it for a safer Opel Manta. The taller Manta was lightweight and underpowered and so didn’t get me in trouble. I can press pedal to metal especially when I can count on there being not too much there, it’s a kind of timid recklessness. I imparted my teenage elan when I presumed to teach my little sister to drive the Opel. But she was fearless and to this day I wonder why she drives like a lunatic. Not having the Jaguar probably saved HER life.

My uncle once refurbished a convertible E-type and when last I asked about it, I learned he’d traced his visceral attraction to the British sportscar to even more fundamental racing lines. I recently saw his new project car and recognized there could be no more iconic a horseless carriage motorcar sportster than the original XK-120.

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