Project 1989

For me, it all started with Need for Speed: Porsche Unleashed — a game that let me drive every Porsche from 1950 to 2000 on PC. That’s where the obsession began, and it’s only grown since. Released in 2000 by EA Games, Porsche Unleashed was different from the other racing games of its time. It had a great partnership, and driving and racing Porsches on the Côte d'Azur route was fascinating in this game.

Out of all those years and models, 1989 stuck with me the most. There is just something about that late '80s vibe, the raw mechanics, the clean design — it feels like the perfect snapshot of Porsche's golden era and and also 1989 is my birth year actually. There is something ridiculously cool about the idea of owning a car that's exactly as old as I am. Like we’ve both been on our own journeys, aging (hopefully) like fine wine.

The 1989 Porsche 911 stirs the imagination like no other vehicle. This model year is significant as it marked the end of the classic 911 body style before the introduction of the 964. The 1989 Carrera Coupe came equipped with a 3.2L flat-six engine producing 217 horsepower and 195 lb-ft of torque, paired with a 5-speed manual transmission. It's a driver's car, through and through.

So what about Singer Vehicle Design? If you’ve never heard of them, let me set the scene: imagine someone taking a classic Porsche 911, giving it the ultimate spa day, a world-class personal trainer, and a fashion stylist — all at once. That’s basically what Singer Vehicle Design does. The car undergoes complete disassembly until only the shell remains before reinforcement and rebuilding with contemporary materials and technology while maintaining the original essence.

Founded by Rob Dickinson in California, Singer Vehicle Design specialises in reimagining old Porsche 911s, mostly from the late '80s and early '90s. They start with a 964-generation 911, strip it down to its bare bones, and then rebuild it with obsessive attention to every single detail. We're talking carbon-fibre bodies, hand-stitched interiors (I am in love with orange interior), engines tuned to perfection — the kind of stuff that makes you question if it’s still even technically the same car.

Singer doesn’t just restore; they elevate. Every car is a unique collaboration with the owner (there is a waiting list) built exactly to their dream specs. Want a midnight blue 911 with a deep tan leather interior, rally-style seats, and a screaming 4.0L engine? Done. Prefer a classic silver coupe that could pass for a vintage Le Mans racer? Also done. Nothing is too crazy. Each "reimagined" 911 is an absolute jewel. You’re not just buying a car; you’re commissioning a piece of automotive art.

And surely, art is not cheap. Commissioning a Singer starts somewhere around $500,000, and that’s before you even supply the actual donor car. When taking other costs into account,t we can easily reach a million-dollar budget.

Just dreaming about it is half the fun for me. Masterpiece.