It can be grueling — to your patience and your wallet — to buy a new car that’s truly special.
Even the most stripped Porsche 911 runs more than $132,000, while at some dealerships the superb 911 S/T is going for two and three times its manufacturer’s suggested retail price of $292,000. That’s if you can even get an allocation.
Meanwhile the average sale price of a Ferrari reached $457,000 last year, and if you want a special-edition version, tack on an additional 40% to 80%. Then get ready to spend a year or two awaiting delivery.
Allow me to offer you an offramp from the arms race that is car ownership. A balm for your nerves with the gravitas of Sean Connery, the elegance of Michael Caine and the style of Robert Redford. A car for adults: the classic Rolls-Royce.
Behold the stately carriage, the imposing grille that’s heralded heads of state from Buckingham Palace to Brunei. The goddess on the front leans into the wind like the figurehead of a ship, riding the wings of the dawn. A late-1970s Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow is equally befitting of Mick Jagger in his louche silk-blouse-wearing glory and of Truman Capote’s prototypical Swan, a Jackie Kennedy type in pearls on her way to Bergdorf Goodman. Chauffeured, of course.
I came to my first Rolls-Royce quite by accident. That’s a story for another time, but suffice to say I haven’t looked back. Indeed, I’ve only since added to my coffers, jumping primarily between the 1975 Silver Shadow LWB in a femme fatale shade of olive and the 1985 Silver Spur in Champagne, with cream puff piping outlining its coffee seats. These are my daily drivers.
They retain the V-8 engine that for years remained mysterious as to the specifics of its performance. (When pressed, the factory famously always answered that the power was “sufficient.”)
A new private collection of 25 bespoke motorcars honoring the Phantom’s centenary will retain a similar combustion apparatus. Those sedans will carry 6.75-liter V-12 engines, with the first commission coming to the U.S. to be revealed on Nov. 1 at the Concours at Wynn Las Vegas.
I expect this could mean the company might consider altering its targets to go all-electric by 2030, a goal I had reported in 2021, two years before I became the first journalist to drive its first all-electric vehicle, the Spectre. (Everyone else is doing it.) In the meantime the price of new Rolls-Royces climbs ever higher, with unique commissions exceeding $30 million.
But back to the classics. You may wonder why they need defending at all, as the prestige amassed since Charles Rolls and Henry Royce formed the company in 1904 has been self-evident and consistent since its inception. These coaches carry maharajas and monarchs, the famous and infamous.
Unfortunately, as with all royalty, the peanut gallery of the collector car world likes to trade in salacious stories and easy tropes that reduce this gem to caricature. Mention your interest in them, and someone will inform you “there’s nothing so expensive as a cheap Rolls-Royce” before itemizing how the once-cutting-edge hydraulics will fail and cost you a down payment on a house. They’re unreliable, and you won’t be able to find anyone to fix them, you’ll hear. The increasing costs of deferred maintenance can mean the repair costs of forsaken Shadows soon surpass their retail value, as the Hagerty value guide puts it.
Let’s not get so dramatic.
Rolls-Royces from the 1960s to the ’80s are relatively affordable compared with many other of the finer collectible cars from the era. The Shadows and Spurs are easily found on Bring a Trailer or at live auction for $20,000 to $30,000. The average value of a 1970 Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow in concours condition is $32,800, according to Hagerty. You can get one in excellent condition for half that. If you find a lovely Corniche or the stylish rare Camargue in mint condition for anything around $60,000, that’s a deal — those values are generally $70,000 and above. I’ve never had a garage bill over the low four figures, knock wood.
You’re in for a treat if you do find one of your own. The Rolls-Royce wafts style like Tom Ford himself, whom people say smells ravishing. It comes in fascinating colors such as Claret and Regency Bronze, Smoke Green and Scots Pine Green Metallic. Even the names for more muted tones are chic: Silver Chalice Metallic, Silvermink Metallic, Shell Grey.
They’re as solid as tanks, swathed in handmade master craft. The vault-silent cabin. The invulnerable doors that close with a satisfying thud. Avon tires and interiors of fine leather, polished walnut trim, deep-pile carpets and chrome accents. I love the sleek wooden steering wheels so thin they belong on a Riva yacht. You know the air conditioning is blowing veritable ice cubes when condensation forms on the round metal vents.
“The quality will remain long after the price is forgotten,” reads one owner’s manual. I can feel the difference immediately when I jump into something rather less strapping. Yes, the odd power window will cut out; electrical circuits can be tricky in British cars. I admit I flip the kill switch from time to time in my Silver Shadow, to ensure I’m not draining the battery. But hopping out of a Rolls-Royce and into my C3 Corvette is like moving from a private jet into a tin can. And I love that Vette.
Classic Rolls-Royces drive like a dream, floating on their signature magic-carpet suspension above the worst pockmarked streets. I often feel my mood instantly improved cruising on my way to the office, watching the Spirit of Ecstasy part the palms in front of me. Did you know the official driving instructor of Rolls-Royce has long trained talent by placing Champagne coupes on the hood of the car, then asking students to brake without spilling a drop? With a little practice it can be done.
In fact, I’ve noticed my driving manners are much more civilized when I’m in my Spur than if I’m driving, say, a throaty BMW. It has to do with the stately bearing of the vehicle; driving a Rolls-Royce gives any sundry chore a sense of occasion.
These saloons do need space. That means I keep my lane-swapping to a minimum when I’m driving one, especially on highways, interstates and surface streets. Crossing five lanes to an exit is like playing Frogger with a cruise ship — it’s not for the faint of heart. Honestly, no sudden movements in general is the recommended policy for these beauties. If possible, plan your brake path a mile in advance.
You also need someone who can look after your vintage Rolls-Royce from time to time, preferably selected and secured in advance of making your purchase. Invite this person to preinspect the vehicle in question, to get a sense of the commitment required. I’ve found Rolls-Royces to be reliable on the condition that they’re driven regularly. Letting them sit exposes them to cracked hoses and tubes, gunky fuel injectors and exasperated water pumps. You simply must keep them active — I can’t stress this enough.
I don’t anticipate that will be a problem. There’s no sense in saving a car this remarkable for special occasions. Whether you’re in the front seat or the rear, in an old Rolls-Royce, every day’s a holiday.
