It may well that be the same affliction that prevented my successful progression as a car designer is responsible for my wife’s total lack of trust in me for making decisions in matters of household decor. For instance, I think the Aviation Traders Carvair was a glorious looking aeroplane. I enjoy looking at pieces of Soviet brutalist architecture. Ekranoplans, to me, are handsome devices. No less do I appreciate the aesthetic of a Class 31 diesel locomotive than I do a Fiat Topolino.
Basically I cannot / will not acknowledge when something is ugly. I am no arbiter of style or elegance, though I’m pretty sure I have a fantastic taste in women. This brings me to what we have here, which, to hedge my bets, I’m going to say is simultaneously the best and worst looking Ferrari of all time.