The first car I ever bought was a Citroen 2CV. It's sitting with a restorer in Holland right now [I think... note to self: check on car], waiting for the opportune moment to ship it over to the US. [Though I have a sneaking suspicion that moment may have gotten pushed off by recent attention to car seat crash test standards, the truth is, two cars already feels like too many.]
So until I pull a Seinfeld and gut a townhouse down the street to make my private urban garage, the only Deux Chevaux the kid'll know up close is a toy version. Turns out Vilac makes several models of wooden toy 2CVs. The truest is probably the 2CV Berline, pared down, with a nicely arced roof. There's a flower power version, too. Eh. I like it. The hood feels just right, but there's just something...I can't put my finger on it.
There's another Vilac 2CV, this one with painted original details like suicide doors. Yes, it's more accurate and less stylized, but it's also a bit cartoony. As if the designer's been staring at Keith Haring toys too long.
Has Playsam ruined me? There should be a pristine wooden 2CV, essentialist yet slightly baroque, like the car itself. Because unless she's brought up right, the kid might just stare at me with a giant WTF? look on her face when she gets the keys to her 16th birthday present.
Correction: the kid's first exposure to a 2CV was last week, when Jalopnik pointed to Brit crit Jeremy Clarkson's 2CV demo[lition] on YouTube. Needless to say, it caught us both off guard. If you're in a hurry for Citroen snuff, skip the 5-min love letter to the Golf GTi at the beginning.