As regular readers roll their eyes skywards in exasperation, we return to a familiar theme, but in a somewhat untimely setting.
As some of you know all too well, DTW’s editor has something of a habit of repeating himself – almost as much as the subject of today’s nocturnal meditation. The more astute amongst you, by the way will have discerned that these photographs were not taken all that recently, which I will admit to – they were in fact snapped in early December, when the world was young(er) and life was, well, a little simpler.
What I really don’t want to do today is reignite the shopworn debate on the rights and wrongs of the X351 XJ’s D-pillar treatment, or indeed its overall styling scheme. Enough ink has been spilled on that subject already, to little lasting or cathartic effect. After all, even to someone like myself who sincerely appreciates X351’s clarity of purpose, it remains something of an unsettling presence. What is however interesting about these images (to these eyes at least) is the manner in which the moisture has frozen upon the Jaguar’s surfaces, and the curious manner in which this is reflected in the municipal NW London lamplight.
Also thrown into relief are the multitude of rather busy looking shutlines around the tail lamps, bootlid and rear three quarters. One must wonder whether this approach was decided upon as the best of the available options, or simply the most expedient. Were cost or tooling concerns the primary considerations, or was it simply that enough of the senior management who tend to decide upon these matters agreed to this execution, above the alternatives? After all, it is frequently the case that the (creatively) best option isn’t necessarily the one chosen.
Anyway, it’s all somewhat academic now. The XJ is no more, pending its (eventual and now further delayed) replacement. Not that this will prevent X351 from being the subject of much continued debate – such after all is the fate of outliers, and especially commercial failures such as this. I suspect the arguments over Adam Hatton’s exterior design will rumble on long after we have all departed this world. Which is perhaps a suitably frigid thought to leave you with on this balmy summer Sunday.