Preaching To The Converted

The biggest problem with convertibles is synonymous with their singular advantage – the roof. Stephen Corby finds out if the Aston Martin DB11 volante is any different.

- Stephen Corby

Dropping the top on your convertible on a balmy, dreamy summer evening – particularly if it has recently rained and you’re getting that eau d’evaporation scent – is one of life’s joys that too many people miss out on. Even on brisk but sunny winter afternoons, feeling the wind burnishing your cheeks as you look up at something you can never fully appreciate in a roofed car – like a landmark you would normally drive by without even noticing – can be pretty fantastic.

There are also those for whom the greatest advantage of going roofless is that it allows you, the fortunate driver, to be seen more fully by strangers. Convertibles are, quite simply, more Instagram-worthy when the roof is down.

Unfortunately, when the roof is up, even usually beautiful cars can suddenly look top-heavy, or awkward – it’s a bit like putting a deerstalker on Margot Robbie, or a Make America Great Again hat on anyone.

And when the weather turns wild and aggressive, there are some convertibles that make you feel less than fully protected. There’s a sense that a hailstone might easily rip your vinyl covering asunder or that the whole roof might blow away.

In some cases, convertibles – or Cabriolets, Spiders, Spyders, Boxsters or Roadsters, as they are also known – can also feel a bit chilly, because there’s just not enough solid matter between your head and the outside world.

It’s a trade-off – along with the fact that they must also always be heavier than normal cars, thanks to the extra body stiffening required to allow the inherent weakening of the structure that comes with chopping off the roof – that people have long been willing to make.