Remember when luxury meant wood, leather, and perhaps a small digital clock if you were feeling particularly avant-garde? Well, those days are as dead as the dodo. In 2025, luxury is measured by how many acres of touchscreen you've got plastered across your dashboard. And if you're buying the base model of the new Mercedes CLA, you've just lost about half your bragging rights. Yes, while Mercedes initially showed us the all-singing, all-dancing version of their new CLA with enough screens to make NASA's mission control look technologically backward, they've now revealed what happens when you don't tick all the option boxes. And it's a bit like discovering that the supermodel you've been admiring has taken off half her makeup. The German configurator for the third-generation CLA is now live, allowing us mere mortals to see what the peasant-spec version looks like. Gone is the impressive 14.0-inch passenger-side display, replaced by what can only be described as a vast expanse of piano black nothingness, dotted with three-pointed stars like some sort of automotive constellation. When less isn't actually more Usually, I'd be the first to applaud the removal of unnecessary screens. After all, does your passenger really need their own personal IMAX experience while you're popping to the shops? But in this case, it's like removing one of a peacock's eyes – the whole face now looks bizarrely lopsided. The driver still gets their 14.0-inch infotainment display, mind you, but the dashboard has all the personality of an accountant's clipboard. The previous CLA's rather fetching turbine-style center vents have vanished, replaced by this austere, upright dash that looks like it was designed by someone who considers beige to be a bit racy. Inside, the base CLA comes with seats wrapped in what Mercedes calls "synthetic leather" – which is a fancy way of saying "plastic that's trying its best." You can, of course, upgrade to actual dead cow if you want to splash the cash, but that rather defeats the purpose of buying the base model, doesn't it? The interior simplification doesn't stop there. Separate climate controls? Gone. They've been absorbed into the touchscreen, because nothing says "convenient" like having to navigate through three menus to turn the heat up when your fingers are frozen. There are just two window switches visible, and the steering wheel is festooned with those touch-sensitive buttons that everyone claims to hate but carmakers insist on using anyway. The art of showing off on a budget Outside, the entry-level CLA makes do with 17-inch wheels, which in 2025 look about as impressive as turning up to a formal dinner in slippers. Fear not, status-conscious buyers – 18- and 19-inch alloys are available for those who don't mind sacrificing range for style in this electric model. Mercedes has generously kept the light bars at the front and rear, even on this poverty-spec version. Personally, I'd prefer the car without them – particularly the front one, which has all the subtlety of a neon sign saying “LOOK AT ME, I'M A MERCEDES.” And if the massive badges front and rear weren't enough to announce what you're driving, there are tiny Mercedes stars embedded in the headlights, taillights, and even in the panel that's replaced the traditional grille. It's like meeting someone who introduces themselves, then hands you their business card, then shows you their passport, just in case you weren't sure who they were. The base electric CLA will set German buyers back €55,858, which translates to about $63,600. Remember that Germans pay 19 percent value-added tax, so the actual price isn't quite as eye-watering as it first appears. Mercedes assures us that the petrol version will be "substantially cheaper," and the American model should be more affordable too, though they haven't said by how much. Probably just enough that you'll still need to remortgage your house, but not quite enough that you'll have to sell a kidney as well. What we're seeing here is the evolution of entry-level luxury. Gone are the days when a base model meant cloth seats and a radio that might pick up two stations if you held the aerial at exactly the right angle. Now it means one massive screen instead of two, synthetic materials attempting to look premium, and enough brand logos to make sure nobody mistakes your car for anything less than a Mercedes, even if it is the cheapest one they make. It's a fascinating insight into how far the automotive industry has come, and also how much they think they can get away with charging for what is, essentially, a slightly posh hatchback with delusions of grandeur.
