IF FRANK STEPHENSON HAD BEEN AN even better motocrosser, he might never have designed the new Mini, numerous Ferraris and most McLarens of the modern era. ‘I was kind of surrounded by cars from the earliest age but I wasn’t really incredibly passionate about them, I wasn’t dreaming about becoming involved in some future career,’ he says. ‘In my last year of high school, a friend invited me to watch one of his motocross races and help out a bit. I’ve always had bikes in my blood and as soon as I saw what it was all about, you know, the sound of two-strokes, the smell of bean oil… I guess that’s what gets you addicted to motorcycles!’
Stephenson was also attracted by the physicality of the sport and proved good at it. He had no plans to go to university and would probably have joined the family business – his father and uncle started a car dealership in Málaga, Spain, in the ’60s, selling Saabs, SEATs, Minis and Rovers – so he asked his father if he could take a year off to race bikes before starting. His father agreed: ‘He said, “Let’s get it out of your system.”’
‘That didn’t happen,’ laughs Stephenson. ‘It just got more intense. I started winning a lot sooner than I imagined and it just went from there. I got to quite a high level. It was a huge part of my youth.’ He rode competitively for four years until both he and his father realised he wasn’t going to be the very best. ‘When I was 22 my father said, “Look, if you want to really make something of your life, you have to be the number one.”’
Stephenson had always been interested in art at school. ‘I was the kid that wasand I was really into lettering, calligraphy.’ He also subscribed to an Italian design magazine called in which he saw an article about a university in California that was teaching car design. ‘It appealed to me right away.’ He applied, not knowing the odds against getting a place but reckoning they were very serious about teaching because they placed 90 per cent of their graduates in the design studios of the world’s car makers.
