Straight line times aren’t really a great measure of what makes a sports car, at least in my book. At the track, I can easily leave behind cars that are faster in a straight line. But even lap times aren’t all that useful as they make no comment on how enjoyable the car is to drive. That’s where a lot of the classic British and Italian sports cars of the '50s and '60s really got things right. They weren’t necessarily all that fast, but they were (and still are) incredibly fun to drive.
Porsche 911 and the Nissan 370Z are a couple others to add to the ones already provided.
Ok, so if you have a 370Z then you’re cool but if you have a Z4 you’re an old man tool douchebag who’s just having a midlife crisis?
I think you’re being a little extreme here. However, yeah if I see someone in a performance car then I think awesome car. If I see someone in a faux performance car, I say meh and think midlife crisis. Going for a convertible changes that from “I think” he is having a midlife crisis to he definitely is having a midlife crisis. Not that anyone should really care. Just buy the car you like and can afford.
I doubt anyone buys an Elise because it looks cool. There are much prettier cars around for much less. They buy them because they handle brilliantly.
To the OP: just nix the convertible top. Instead of a Boxster, get a Porsche Cayman.
My fiancee drives a Corolla. :dubious:
My aformentioned piece of crap is a Toyota Corolla, so Toyotas it is.
Hear that ladies?
Not content with fighting ignorance, we’re now making new inroads cough in urban legend development
I guarantee that looks were low on my list of considerations. If fact, put money down before the US version and its appearance was unveiled.
Classic cars are the way to go. My father in law just bought an early 80s Corvette and is fixing it up. The first midlife crisis car he bought was an 09 Celica, traded it in, bought an 05 Subaru SRX, sold it and now has the Corvette he always wanted.
This. My pops worked three jobs his entire life. A year or two back he bought himself a Boxster (not red). He’s not an extravagant guy and doesn’t otherwise dress or act like a tool. Maybe it’s just because he’s my pops, but when I see him motoring around in it with my mom and a golden retriever digging the breeze I see him enjoying something he’s always wanted and, by virtue of having busted his balls his entire life like most people of my generation can’t even* imagine*, deserves. Good for him. If instead he was riding around with his shirt half-unbuttoned, a gold medallion and a chest pelt, and a hot blonde in fake tits in the passenger seat, maybe a different story.
My opinion is the Pontiac Solstice is a “chick” car.
Have you looked at the Audi TT Coupe?
That seems like a nice, manly, non-toolish vehicle?
Not all old cars are classics. Some are just… old.
The first generation TT was the utimate hairdressers’ car.
To a certain extent, I think, it has less to do with the choice of car as it does your attitude when you’re driving it. If you’ve got that “Hey! Check me out!” sort of look, then yup – tool.
On the other hand, I saw a guy the other day – middle-aged, with his middle-aged wife beside him, driving along the highstreet – and they both just looked so happy, just enjoying the drive, and the sunshine, and each others company. And I thought “Yeah, I want to be that guy.”
There again, not everyone can suit just any car: Dara O’Briain tries out a sportscar.
(And for anyone not so familiar with the works of Enid Blyton, this is who he’s referring to.
I think it also helps if you’re not wearing a toupee.
Here is the question. When people look at you in your car, do they see a successfull man enjoying the fruits of his labor? Or do they see a douchebag who is trying to impress people with his toys? It’s going to depend a lot on who you are, what you do for a living, where you live, what you look like and who your friends are.
Also keep in mind that if you are driving a $90,000 sports car, the kinds of people who are going to think you are a tool are probably people you don’t give a shit about anyway.
I saw a guy in a Porsche yesterday. Said Porsche was stalled in the driveway of a gas station, hood up, with the owner (a young, neatly-coiffed, “bro”-looking guy) quizzically trying to discern the problem. Bro also had a cast on his hand.
That did sort of shout “tool”.
“Not you, rowing machine man, you’re feck-all use to us on that day!” 
That’s harsh. 
Ah, but what if there’s a flood? What price your skis then?
How about a douchebag enjoying the fruits of his douchebaggery?