Hang on. I thought you liked the 1M?

Correction: I love the 1M.

In fact, I am dangerously close to throwing away my chances of getting a house deposit to finance one.

Then what’s the problem?

Well, in an ideal world, I’d like to own both a house and a BMW 1M. However, as my savings account stands, I can’t exactly afford either. You know. Journalist life and all that.

You’re making very little sense here. Why should your financial situation dictate others’ buying freedom?


I presume you are referring to my title?


I best slow down and explain myself.

The BMW 1M is the best BMW ever made. Fact.

Hang on a mini–

–No. You hang on a minute. You are capable of listening until I’ve finished speaking. You’re not an infant, so don’t act like one.


Thank you. As I was saying…

The 1M is the best road car BMW has produced since its inception 114 years ago. It is a raucous, boisterous, terrier of a car. An automotive adrenaline-spiking supplement. A car whose sole purpose is to entertain.

Under its bonnet resides a punchy turbocharged in-line 6-cylinder that owes its origins to the 135i from the same era. Though for its application in the 1M, BMW turned it up to 11. Flex the fun pedal and you’ll find a considerable 250kW and 450Nm (500Nm during overboost) at your disposal; all of which is dispatched to the rear wheels.

In spite of the substantial firepower on offer, the 1M is emphatically not a straight-line obsessive. It’s quick – 0-100km/h takes just 4.9 seconds – however, it’s far happier slithering around corners. This is a good thing.

I suspect it would be an absolute treat to use on a daily basis. The power is usable. The controls are straightforward. The cabin, while a little bland, is fantastically simple. Oh, and it comes exclusively with a delicious 6-speed manual transmission.

It is just about perfect.

And it looks good.

And it looks good!

Those pumped out arches have aged brilliantly

You sound smitten.

I am.

It is a properly marvellous car.

This is why I can’t quite comprehend why they’ve depreciated. When it first went on sale, the 1M retailed at AUD$99,990. You can now pick one up for as little as $60,000.

That’s how cars work. They depreciate.

Usually, yes, but I expected 1M values to buck the usual trend and do something few cars do: appreciate.


Come. Sit. It’s time for a quick lesson:

Generally speaking, an object’s value depends on a) the supply of that object and b) the demand for that object. It’s why highly sought after Porsche 911 Rs (of which only 25 made it to Australia) are still being sold for $100,000 over their original retail price.

That’s wild.

No, that’s basic economics.

How many 1Ms came to Australia?

A mere 300.

Only 300? Why aren’t prices through the roof?

Because while I am well aware of how fantastic the 1M is, it appears that the rest of Australia (and the world for that matter) is not.

This is good news because – for now, at least – values are within reach for the general populace. However, I suspect that this won’t last for long.

One day the world will wake up and realise what a truly brilliant car the 1M is. And when that day comes, you can bet your bottom dollar that values will skyrocket.

Which is why I’m asking you not to buy one. I need more time to save my pennies before the little Beemer becomes unobtainable.

Forget the house. I’ll take the Beemer.

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