I’m not sure I’d change many things about this Renault 6. It reminds me of the car owned by my parents. A car I was too young to appreciate, but for obvious reasons holds a strong place in my heart.
You can see a photo of my childhood Renault 6 at the top of this article.
There was a time when a fresh stone chip would ruin my day. I can recall the sinking feeling when I heard the ping of a stone on the side of the bodywork of my fresh-out-of-the-showroom Ford Puma. I’d go to great lengths to ensure my cars were kept in pristine condition.
I distinctly remember diving into a petrol station to avoid an oncoming gritter lorry. I’d also spend many minutes searching for a decent space in a car park, ideally between a couple of pillars. My wife always looked forward to the inevitable Tour de Car Park.
Those days have gone. Today, I view battle scars, dents and chips as part of the car’s history. Rather than erasing it from history, patina is something we should embrace. Which is why this Renault 6 is so appealing.
Sure, I’d give it a deep clean. There’s a fine line between patina and that ‘just dragged out of the swamp’ look, and while this Renault 6 is certainly respectable, it needs a little love. A set of black number plates, an immaculate interior and restored steel wheels. That would be the extent of the cosmetic recommissioning.
Launched in 1968, the Renault 6 slotted in between the 4 and the 16 in Regie’s range. Although it didn’t reach the heights of the Renault 4, some 1.5 million cars were built before production ended in 1979. Today, as this recent article shows, the Renault 6 is all but extinct in the UK.
Which makes it hard to value this honest and low-mileage Renault 6. The seller has listed it for £3,995, which seems like a lot for a car that’s in need of a little work. But as the old adage goes: try finding another one.
One thing’s certain: I’d love to buy it. It would be wrong to restore the car to showroom condition. Let it age like an antique leather sofa or Monica Bellucci’s face. Its originality and honesty are central to its appeal – I hope somebody is brave enough to keep it this way.
In the meantime, I’m waiting for Autoglass to get back to me about a chip in the Safrane’s windscreen. It turns out that heat-reflective screens from the 1990s are a little hard to find. Who’d have thought it?