STRANGE THINGS used to happen to Irish men when I was growing up. As soon as they hit 40, they started playing golf, wearing pastel-coloured jerseys, smoking cigars and driving Austin Princesses or Jaguars. The Jags would be polished to within an inch of their lives and as the doors opened, a cloud of Henry Winterman cigar smoke would waft out, followed by a large belly and, eventually, an uncle. If you were offered a ride, you risked incurring a nasty injury by sitting on a golf tee.
Superficially, the Jaguar X-Type is the sleek, powerful beastie I remember. As I get in, checking for sharp golf-related objects, I hear the voices of uncles saying: 'There you are, darling girl. Watch out for me leather seats with those terrible shoes now.'
Jaguar design has come out of the wilderness that produced such monstrosities as the Jaguar Sovereign. The marque has been around since 1935 and during the late 30s it could do no wrong. The SS100 won races all over Europe, including Monte Carlo and Marne Grand Prix of Reims. Then came the stunner that was the 256bhp, 3781cc engine and sleek body of the E-Type. All was going swimmingly - until the dark days of the early 80s.
Under Ford, however, Jaguar seems to have rediscovered the design spark that created such beauties as the XK120 roadster. Gone are the pointy flattened bonnets and those mean-looking headlights of the XJS and even the muscular body and gaping frog mouth of the XK8. Back are the gracious curves and wide-eyed foglights of the MkII and the XJR. This may be too many model names for most people, but put it like this: the X-Type Jag has elegance written all over it. The paint shows off the curves the way a satin dress clings to the hips, and the chrome Jaguar on the bonnet is positively leaping off with pride. This is a fine-looking car. It comes as a bit of a letdown to discover that, under the skin, this flash car is hiding a Ford Mondeo platform. There was a bit of upset about this from people who felt that a Jag should be 100 per cent Jag built - possibly people who are nostalgic about setting off on a journey in a car that will lose at least three of its components en route, one of which will be vital.
I disagree, the same style of underwear can be worn by 10 women to totally different effect. It's what you do with it and put on top that counts. This car may be sharing foundation garments with a Ford, but it's nothing like one.
I get to drive a limited edition X-Type 2.1 V6 Spirit. It's as flash as you like, with wire mesh grills that appear to have been nicked from a Bentley Arnage, rear spoilers, exciting alloys, a host of goodies and sports suspension. This car is boardroom solid. The maple dash screams steady and dependable. Not for Jaguar the brushed steel and industrial styling of Audi or the high-tech gadgets of BMW.