Triumph Stag

Our resident Triumph expert, Simon reckons there’s nothing quite like the Stag, which thoroughly deserves its modern-day popularity.

- Simon Goldsworthy

Automotive history is littered with cars that answered questions which nobody had asked. Just to pick three off the top of my head, there is the Panther Rio which combined Rolls-Royce luxury with a particularly ugly reworking of the humble Triumph Dolomite shell, the Standard Vanguard diesel which could potentially eke nearly 40 miles from each gallon of the oily stuff at the expense of a 0-50mph (note that is 50mph, not 60mph!) time of 31.6 seconds, and the Amphicar whose Herald engine could power it across both land and water.

You will note that I have chosen three cars with Triumph links as my examples, partly in an attempt to forestall the howls of protest from aficionados since my own love of the brand is well publicised, but also because today I am championing the Triumph Stag. I realise that it is a tad unconventional to start a defence by dissing the brand, but bear with me and hopefully you will see the method in my madness.

The thing is, when Harry Webster decided that Triumph was going to build the Stag that, too, was in response to a question which nobody had asked. There was no research looking for a gap in the market, no buyers clamouring for a car of this type, not even a previous model that pointed towards the Stag as the way forward. Instead, Giovanni Michelotti modified a pre-production 2000 saloon into a four-seater, two-door convertible Grand Tourer for display at shows, but the Triumph top brass liked it so much that they exercised an option to turn it into a production reality.