My friend Martin Buckley, fine uk classic car writer and journalist, ( see his re-post here of some days ago ) recapped in a single sentence, with his usual wit, what did it mean to be a GT man at the end of the sixties: “a chap who doesn’t eat crisps, catch colds or iron his own shirts.”. Martin was the first to identify and depict this legendary character, linking him to some sport and luxury cars of that era. A Gt man, in a more mundane definition, is a sort of classy and relaxed playboy, owner of an undefined richness, spending his time skiing in St. Moritz, hangin out in St.Tropez, flying first class to London or New York, always along cute slender blondes. Occasionally it happens that it has a job, something like intercontinental jet pilot or industry tycoon. His hair combed with casualness or his expensive but never showing off clothing often were pictured in adverts.
The car driven by a GT man is of course…a GT. It must hava a long tapered bonnet, a 12 or 8 cylinder located in front, 2 or 2+2 seats, an exclusive european brand, mostly italian or english. A car able to easily do a London-Gstaad non-stop drive without tiring the charming passenger, in that pre speed limits (or at least speed cameras) era. An era in which only exclusive, limited production expensive cars could do an endless 200 and more km/h average. Now even french diesel rep cars can do it.