The buzz surrounding the Mini is anything but minimalist. And BMW, Mini’s corporate parent, couldn’t be happier. But unlike Mercedes, BMW isn’t slapping its name on its cheapest model. “Please don’t call us BMW Mini,” gasps Jack Pitney, Mini’s general manager. When it goes on sale next week, Mini’s 70 U.S. dealers will already have long waiting lists, and some will charge thousands over its $16,850 starting price. Mini’s Web site has been clogged with more than 50,000 visitors expressing interest in buying the car. Its bulldog styling and distinctive white top are turning heads. (For about an extra $200, Mini will paint a Union Jack on top.) And those looking for a zippier model can upgrade to the sporty $19,850 Cooper S. Both versions will be much more luxurious than the bare-bones Mini of old (heater optional), which never caught on in America. Today’s Mini has a standard six-speaker CD-stereo and air-conditioned glove box, and can come with heated seats.
Even though BMW is not risking its good name, it still must prove it can compete in the trendy-small-car business. Consider the fate of other faddish cars: sales of the VW Beetle are off 18 percent this year, and Chrysler just slapped a $1,000 rebate on its sputtering PT Cruiser. “It’s going to be pretty tough to keep the Mini going after the initial rush,” says Csaba Csere, editor of Car and Driver magazine. BMW executives are confident they know how to keep the car in demand: they plan to limit sales to a meager 20,000 Minis in the United States this year. To stoke demand down the road, BMW will likely add a convertible.
But can a pint-size car play to SUV-loving America? Mini’s marketers think they can shame SUV owners out of their rigs. One Mini billboard implores: LET’S SIP, NOT GUZZLE, while another scolds: LET’S NOT USE THE SIZE OF OUR VEHICLE TO MAKE UP FOR OTHER SHORTCOMINGS. That’s so naughty, baby.
