Why MINI Cooper | A Detroit Car Guy's Love Letter to Driving

Why MINI Cooper

I was born and raised in Detroit. I'm a car guy — when cut, we bleed motor oil.

Growing up, my brothers and I used to play a game called "What Car Is It?" From two blocks away we'd identify the make, model, and year of any car coming down the street. It went deeper than that — engine displacement, horsepower, whether it had a positraction rear end or headers. That was just how we were wired.

I suspect the kids growing up near the MINI plant in Oxford weren't so different. Different cars, different accents — same obsession.

Growing up surrounded by automotive history gave me an appreciation for what cars used to be. The 40s, 50s, and 60s — that was the golden era. Every car had curves. Every model had a personality you could recognize from a block away. They were bold, distinctive, and unapologetically themselves.

Then the 80s happened. And focus groups happened. And somewhere along the way, the soul got designed out of most automobiles, not just the American ones. Now most cars look like variations of the same wind-tunnel-tested blob — safe, inoffensive, subtle variances in roofline or windshield sweep — completely forgettable. 🤮

I am not a truck guy. Never have been. To me they're just big ugly boxes — and somehow every new model looks exactly like the last one. Where's the personality in that?

I've always been drawn to cars that have something to say. Cars that make you feel the road instead of floating above it. Cars that reward you for actually paying attention to the drive.

That's why MINI got under my skin.

I put a deposit down on a brand new one back in 2011. Three kids, real life, couldn't justify it — even in a Clubman. But I'd already driven one. I already knew what it felt like to take a corner on rails, to feel that quick responsive acceleration, to sit in something designed by people who actually liked driving.

I walked away from that purchase. The affinity never left.

Years later my son turned 16 and remembered that story. He asked if he could buy a MINI. Of course I said yes. And a few years after that I bought one too. For a while we both had MINIs at the same time — his was silver, mine was red.

A MINI won't win a drag race. I'm not going to beat a Mustang in a quarter mile and I'm perfectly fine with that. That was never the point. MINIs are driver's cars — built for people who want to lean into corners, feel the road beneath them, and actually enjoy the journey.

In a world full of focus-grouped forgettable boxes, MINI still has the audacity to have a personality.

That's who AllThingsMINI is for. People who chose character over conformity. People who won't drive boring.

All photography © Rob D'Amico / AllThingsMINI