2008 Mini Cooper Automatic 2-door Hatchback on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Mini Cooper Convertible Interior Review | Dissecting the oddball

Stepping inside any Mini product is going to throw you for a minute if you haven’t been in one before. ItÂ’s a combination of the odd proportions, weird sightlines and exceedingly quirky design for just about everything inside the cabin. This strangeness, of course, applies to the 2022 Mini Cooper Convertible, which is the subject of this review. Arguably, the Convertible is even weirder than the regular Hardtop, both of which were updated for 2022. It features a tailgate as a rear loading mechanism and a soft top that folds like an accordion on top of said tailgate, remaining out in the open and visible no matter its position — thereÂ’s simply no room for Mini to stow it out of sight in a trunk cubby hole. That gives the Mini Convertible an odd look with the top down, and due to the top having to rest on top of the tailgate, it also blocks the driverÂ’s view rearward. You can still see super-tall trucks in the rearview mirror, but putting the top down makes you largely reliant on the side mirrors to see whatÂ’s coming up behind you. To mitigate that, thereÂ’s a middle ground of top deployment that simply rolls the top part of the way back, effectively creating a roof-width sunroof. Those are all rather odd quirks, but our favorite convertible Mini quirk of old is nowhere to be found in the latest car: the Openometer. This little feature was a gauge that simply kept track of how long you spent driving around with the top down. ItÂ’s hard to think of a feature that is any more “Mini” than that one, which makes us all the more sad that the gauge no longer exists to shame those who donÂ’t drop the power-folding roof. Looking past the weirdness, thereÂ’s a regular car interior here that straddles the line between a premium and non-premium car. The $40,350 price of our Mini Cooper S tester signals that this is positioned as a small and sporty premium car, and there are some genuinely luxurious touches. The Chesterfield Brown leather seats with white piping and pretty quilting sure do scream luxury, while all of the weighty switches and nicely-damped buttons signal the same. The above said, the standard Mini interior is all leatherette, full of cheap-looking shiny plastic trim and is really slacking when it comes to many features weÂ’d expect would come standard. For example, a base Mini Cooper S Convertible at $28,750 doesnÂ’t have heated seats, proximity entry, auto climate control or an auto-dimming mirror.

The original Mini Cooper still has universal appeal

It sold over five million units. It was voted the second most influential car of the last century, bested only by the pioneering Ford Model T. It counted among its owners Steve McQueen, Enzo Ferrari and Peter Sellers. It is the classic Mini.
The tiny, two-box, four-seat hatch is an automotive icon of the first order and it's high time it featured in an episode of Petrolicious. Of course, the video gurus did it right, filming this handsome 1971 Mini, which has been modified to accommodate the 1,275-cc four-cylinder from the Mini Cooper S of the time.
Its owner, Sumner Norman, describes life with his right-hand-drive, UK-spec Mini. Naturally, he points out some of the idiosyncrasies inherent with a car built under the guise of British Leyland, including some of well known reliability woes, which he says is the car "going British." Mostly, though, he just seems to have a good time with the little hatch.

2014 Mini John Cooper Works Countryman All4

The standard Mini Countryman is a bit of an odd duck against the backdrop of 'normal' small crossovers like the Mazda CX-5 and the Ford Escape, but I sort of get it. Apply the same winning Mini formula to a CUV, and you get a smaller-than-average entry in the segment, one that is far more entertaining to drive than the norm, more stylish inside and out and pretty expensive when cross-shopped. That list of qualities doesn't appeal to all crossover shoppers, sure, but it intrigues a big enough list that the Countryman has reason for being.
Now, add the expensive John Cooper Works package to the Countryman's already niche goodies list, and Mini starts to lose me. So, I'm getting the softer suspended, taller, generally less dynamically joyful version of the brand's core values, but now you're charging me at least $35,000 ($13k more expensive than the basic, front-drive Cooper Countryman and $7k more than the MSRP of the Cooper S All4 version)? What's that? You're going to make it look like a garish, tippy-toed tuner car in the process? Take my money.
Or, actually, let me keep it. I can swing with a lot of the weirdness that Mini has to offer, but this car pushed me past my limit.