Mum’s the word for girly mobile Peugeot

Catherine Shanahan dreamed of a man-magnet on wheels, but when she test drove the new Peugeot, designed with women in mind, she found it was more about babies than babes.

MY first car was given to me free, gratis and for nothing - and quickly departed in a puff of smoke to the great parking lot in the sky. The second went down the same road suit six years later.

My current drive, a low-slung, Dukes-of-Hazzard, banged-up piece of metal has endeared itself by virtue of its niftiness, ease of parking and potential to take top prize in any Pimp My Ride contest.

I have always driven second-hand cars, so it was with keen anticipation I accepted my boss’s offer to test drive the new Peugeot 1007.

Pizazz, I thought. Panache. Sophistication. Verve. Something that said “little black number”, not “pinafore”; “kitten heel”, not “bróg”.

With great expectations I arrived at the Lee Garage, on Model Farm Road in Cork, eager to hit the open road, discerning girl friend in tow. Marketed as a girlymobile, we had visions of an attractive sporty number, folding top, power to burn, purring a greeting in the forecourt.

Out rolled a little squat number, square-backed, shiny, not a soft top in sight. “Is THAT it?” my aghast co-pilot asked. Jamie, the sales rep, nodded. There was nothing for it, but to climb aboard.

First impressions are a bad thing. For an hour or so, we slagged off the poor Peugeot as the love child of a Hiace and a Smart car. The two huge sliding doors were from its father’s side, Van. Its mother was the brains of the family.

The slagging stopped when we pulled up in a car park with only one tiny space. The advantages of sliding doors sank in. We could fit where few cars had fitted before. Cyclists nodded their approval. No more the threat of being whacked off their perch by careless, unseeing drivers. We realised the “sesame” doors opened wide enough for kiddies to clamber in the back without disturbing driver or passenger.

An anti-pinch system stopped the doors closing the second they detected an obstacle; neither would open or close electrically if the car was traveling at more than 3mph. The penny dropped. This wasn’t a girlymobile. It was a mammy mobile.

On foot of this little epiphany, our analysis of the Peugeot 1007 changed tack. We sought out the mammy-friendly features. A separate little mirror up over the rear view mirror turned out not to be an instrument for oogling male passengers but to keep an eye on the little darlings, to great effect.

If a coffee-cup holder could not be accessed because it was blocked by the gear stick while in fifth gear, this was probably because family-transporting mammies are not meant to drink boiling coffee while in top gear.

On the style side, its “cameleo” kits mean you can change the interior as often as your mood, marking the Peugeot out as a certified woman’s car.

“Just as you change duvet covers at home, or replace the covers on the three-piece suite, with the 1007 you can buy all manner of different coloured interiors. By swapping outdoor panels, dashboard inserts and door panels, the whole feel of the car’s interior can be changed. It’s a car with a choice of outfits,” the advertisers tell us. Buyers will be drawn by the styling, which is the work of Fabrizio Valentini, of the famous Italian styling house, Pininfarina.

The car has plenty of height and the upright seats and tall boxy shape give a great view of what is going on around and ahead, which makes the car good in traffic. The front passenger seat can be folded down to resemble a table and there is plenty of storage space.

Who will buy it? Almost two-thirds of customers are likely to be women, Peugeot says, with most buyers aged from their mid-30s to their mid-50s.

Personally, I would prefer something with a little more va va voom, something less plain Jane, less the sensible shoe. As my co-pilot said “you know when you’ve bought one of these that you’ve turned a certain chapter in your life. It’s the golf-playing male equivalent of wearing a Pringle jumper.”