The old saying goes that there’s more than one way to skin a cat. (Frankly, even one way sounds like too many, but hey – idioms aren’t always coined by the good guys.) And this is a state of affairs that’s very much in evidence in the Mini scene. After all, this is an entity that’s been intricately interwoven into the fabric of culture and society for 63 years; it’s as old as Hugh Laurie and Suzanne Vega, as Ben-Hur and Living Doll. With all that’s passed between that point and this, it’s easy to become blasé and say yes, OK, we’ve probably seen all that we’re likely to see here. And then a fresh Mini comes along, something so inherently right and clever and attractive and intriguing that it reframes all that we think we know about these characterful little cars. Jayme Hill’s Mini is one such creation. The product of a lifetime of passion and enthusiasm, enabled by the camaraderie of what the Australians call ‘mateship’, this Northern Irish build is a car of such ineffable and eye-opening quality and clarity, it stands out tall and proud in an already vibrant scene.
“I’ve owned the Mini for fourteen years now,” he explains. “It’s actually my first car and project. The first version was an immaculate Sportspack build that was a show-winner here in Northern Ireland. In my time I’ve mainly owned VAG group cars, but where the involvement with projects comes from is within
