Aston Martin: A journey through time There’s heritage, and then there’s Aston Martin. The company has been around longer than a lot of countries that exist today, and I’m here to walk you through their history. Now the brand is known a lot for targeting the gentrified class. This is no Urus. It’s no Purosangue. An Aston doesn’t scream, she speaks softly in your ear. As the saying goes, money talks, wealth whispers.And an Aston’s presence always whispers, until you push down even slightly on the loud pedal. Then, she becomes a banshee. A tale of British engineering, more financial crises than Greece, and cars so beautiful they make Sophia Loren look like she's got a face like a dropped pie.Aston Martin's story begins in 1913, when two chaps named Lionel Martin and Robert Bamford decided that making cars would be a jolly good idea. They set up shop in a tiny London garage, probably with about as much space as a modern telephone box. Their first car, cleverly named the "Aston-Martin" (after Lionel and the Aston Clinton hill climb), rolled out in 1915. It was about as reliable as British weather, but it was a start.Now, most sensible people would have packed it in after World War I, but not our lads. They kept plugging away, making cars that were beautiful, fast, and about as common as hen's teeth. In 1922, they even managed to race one of their contraptions at the French Grand Prix. The car completed the race, which by Aston Martin's standards of the time, was a bloody miracle. The 1930s saw Aston Martin changing hands more times than a hot potato. First, it was bought by a chap named Bertelli, who fancied himself as a bit of a car designer. Then it was snapped up by a shipping magnate, before finally landing in the lap of a proper industrialist, David Brown, in 1947. This is where things get interesting.David Brown was the sort of chap who thought, "Why buy one struggling car company when you can buy two?" So he also nabbed Lagonda, another British car maker on its last legs. It was like watching someone buy two three-legged dogs and trying to make a greyhound. But somehow, it worked. Under Brown's reign, Aston Martin produced some of the most iconic cars in its history. The DB series, named after the great man himself (subtle, eh?), gave us stunners like the DB2, DB3, and the car that would define the brand for generations: the DB5 (pictured in the back right).Ah, the DB5. The car that made James Bond look cool, even when he was being chased by men with metal teeth and razor-brimmed hats. It was sleek, it was fast, and it had more gadgets than Q's Christmas wishlist. Every schoolboy wanted one, and every man wished he was still a schoolboy so he could dream about having one. But making cars that were more handcrafted than mass-produced isn't exactly a recipe for financial success. By the 1970s, Aston Martin was back to its old tricks of teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. It changed hands again, this time to a pair of American businessmen who probably thought owning a British car company would be a jolly jape. They soon found out it was about as much fun as trying to nail jelly to a wall. The '70s and '80s saw Aston Martin produce some, shall we say, interesting cars. The Lagonda, for instance, looked like it had been designed by someone who'd only ever seen cars in cubist paintings. It had a digital dashboard that was about as reliable as a chocolate teapot, but by God, it was different.Then came the Victor Gauntlett era in the 1980s. Gauntlett was a proper British businessman, the kind who probably had a port for breakfast. He steered Aston through some choppy waters, even managing to get James Bond back into an Aston Martin in "The Living Daylights". Good show, old chap. But the real game-changer came in 1987 when Ford decided to add Aston Martin to its "Premier Automotive Group". It was like watching a bull adopt a china shop. Suddenly, Aston had proper funding, proper facilities, and proper engines that didn't leak oil as a design feature.The 1990s and 2000s saw Aston Martin produce some of its best cars yet. The DB7 was a stunner that actually sold in numbers greater than Aston's usual "one per blue moon" production rate. Then came the Vanquish, a car so gorgeous it could make a bishop kick a hole in a stained glass window.But Ford, being Ford, decided that owning exotic car brands was a bit like keeping a tiger as a pet - exciting, but likely to eat you out of house and home. So in 2007, they sold Aston Martin to a consortium led by a chap named David Richards. It was back to being properly British, for better or worse.Since then, Aston Martin has been on a roller coaster that would make Alton Towers look tame. They've produced some absolute corkers like the One-77, a car so exclusive they only made 77 of them (hence the clever name). They've also had some, er, interesting ideas like the Cygnet, which was essentially a Toyota iQ in a fancy frock. It was like watching Pavarotti squeeze into lederhosen - amusing, but not quite right.In recent years, Aston Martin has been pushing the envelope further than a postman on performance-enhancing drugs. The Vulcan was a track-only hypercar that made the Batmobile look sensible. The Valkyrie, developed with Red Bull Racing, is so advanced it makes the space shuttle look like a horse and cart.And let's not forget the DBX, Aston's foray into the world of SUVs. It's like they looked at Porsche's success with the Cayenne and thought, "We'll have a bit of that, thank you very much." The result is an SUV that can go off-road, but let's be honest, the closest most of them will get too rough terrain is mounting the curb outside Harrods.Throughout its history, Aston Martin has been the automotive equivalent of that friend who's always borrowing money but is so charming you can't say no. It's been on the brink of bankruptcy more times than I've had hot dinners, yet it always seems to pull through, producing cars that make grown men weak at the knees. It's a company that has no right to still exist, really. In a world of mass production and economies of scale, Aston Martin's insistence on handcrafting cars with the kind of attention to detail usually reserved for Swiss watches should have been its downfall. But somehow, against all odds, it's still here, still making cars that are more artwork than automobiles.And that, perhaps, is the true magic of Aston Martin. In a world where cars are becoming increasingly homogenized, where electric powertrains are making everything sound like a giant food blender, Aston Martin still stands for something special. It's the automotive equivalent of a bespoke Savile Row suit in a world of off-the-peg polyester. Yes, owning an Aston Martin is about as practical as using champagne as a window cleaner. Yes, they'll probably spend more time in the workshop than on the road. And yes, you could probably buy a small country for the price of a new one. But that's not the point.An Aston Martin isn't just a car. It's a statement. It's a middle finger to sensibility, a roaring V12 salute to the idea that cars can be more than just transport. It's a reminder that in a world of beige, there's still room for British Racing Green.So here's to Aston Martin, the company that's been on the brink for over a century and shows no signs of changing. May they continue to make cars that are utterly impractical, horrifically expensive, and achingly beautiful for another hundred years. Because in a world of autonomous electric pods, we need a bit of Aston Martin madness.
