Patination state

A 'weathered' 1960s Italian hybrid GT might not be most people's choice as an everyday family classic, but engineer Peter Fareham is not most people

- James Elliott

TERMINOLOGY IS IMPORTANT. For example, the term 'rat-rod' always makes me wince a little. It conjures images of someone spending a great deal of money on making a car mechanically awesome, but then consciously giving it a weathered sheen of deceit, probably created by someone in a railway arch wielding an oxy torch and wearing nothing more than a maniacal grin. Don't get me wrong, I actually rather like rat-rods; it's just that, thanks to the recent inexorable rise of preservation, the wilful misrepresentation that the rat-rod name implies has become an unfair catch-all. That's why I am so pleased that the phrase 'patinated restoration' has arisen. It's far from my favourite word-combo, admittedly, but it does at least draw that vital distinction between the acts of painstakingly conserving a car or deliberately distressing one, even if it is to the same visual effect.

This car is very much in the former camp and is a prime example of why such a distinction is warranted. The rare Iso Rivolta GT is freshly back on the road, mechanically pristine and about to embark on a new life in the UK, yet still proudly wears all the scars of its former lives.

Iso is your typical fridges to riches story. Renzo Rivolta bought Isothermos - a specialist in helping you make things hot or keep them cool in 1939 and, almost immediately post-war, decided to branch out. His company graduated from white goods to two-wheeled transport via microcars and on to supercars before Renzo died suddenly aged 66, the company passing to son Piero and lasting another decade before its terminal demise.