James Whitbourn

As a child, I dreamed of writing my Retro Rides contributor bio in first person, stream-of-consciousness format.

Like anyone, I search ‘RX-7’ and ‘Liberty RS’ on Marketplace approximately every three minutes during peak times – that’s when the missus is watching Fixer Upper.

If my taste in cars was food, it’d be ramen, you see. (For what it’s worth, if my culinary cravings were cars, they’d be an Alfa Romeo 90 and a Chevrolet C10.)

Mint, original classics are lovely to look at, but a crapheap tells a story, exudes an alluring unrealised potential, and is more fun, I reckon.

My wife has always known that it is normal for a man to buy first and ask permission later.

Fun fact: I’m your go-to for the latest motorsport news, as long as you’re talking Group A.

Disclaimer: I am not stuck in the ’90s, I’m here of my own free will.

Biggest regret: Leaving my Alice in Chains Dirt CD in a 911 Turbo S press car.

Dream: To one day buy a Tesla Model Y and set it on fire (though waiting until it spontaneously combusts would make for a stronger insurance claim.)