It’s a hard life, heading off to Milan for the European launch of the new Lexus LBX. After much time spent looking at and playing with this hybrid compact SUV, I really wanted to take one for a spin.

Did you go to university with someone who was always keen to save the whales or the rainforests? Or whatever the eco-cause du jour was? But curiously they drove an old, leaded petrol-fuelled VW Beetle?

We should care about the planet – and that includes the cars we drive

Perhaps you were that student, with your placard-laden Vee-Dub stalling and spluttering around campus, belching out black smoke. I’m afraid I was the smug kid driving the much newer car that ran on slightly cleaner unleaded, wondering why you were all about saving the planet, until it came to your car. Sorry.

If my university alumni emails are any indication, plenty of my fellow students, including the aforementioned VW drivers, have done very well since graduation. I would be surprised to find too many of my former classmates driving ancient, polluting bangers. Despite questionable vehicle choices back in the day, the university eco-warriors were ultimately right. We should care about the planet – and that includes the cars we drive.

Which brings me nicely to the new Lexus

The Lexus LBX is a hybrid compact SUV that is aimed at a wide range of drivers who have a bit of cash to splash on a car, would like something comfortable and luxurious, but also eco-friendly and maybe a bit cool. I feel like I, along with my alumnus, have become a target demographic.

On my trip to Milan for the European launch, I learned a few things. Including discovering that the Duomo is so beautiful, I actually started to cry in the piazza.

The world does not need another compact SUV that resembles a Stormtrooper helmet. Instead, we have an elegant SUV

Before the launch, I’d only seen a few deliberately vague teaser shots and a video of the LBX, which were not so much a flash of leg, but more like a hint of toe. In my head, I was trying to fill in the blanks before I saw the LBX in the flesh, but my brain kept defaulting to the Range Rover Evoque.

When I got my first look at the LBX, as three of them drove into a warehouse space simultaneously, it was pleasing to learn that the designers have not simply taken their cues from the Evoque – or any other brand, for that matter. The world does not need another compact SUV that resembles a Stormtrooper helmet. Instead, we have an elegant little SUV. It still looks like a Lexus, but there are enough design tweaks to make it stand out from the brand’s sedate saloon cars that are certainly comfortable, but not necessarily cool.

Let’s look at it properly

At the back, there is a sleek red line of light rather than chunky tail lights, which helps ensure the LBX looks like an LBX, rather than a Frankenstein’s monster of derivative design ideas. It’s an individual.

Inside, it has the comfort and space required for the buyers who will inevitably use the LBX as a soccer taxi, without being an overbearing blindspot-riddled behemoth that is difficult to park and regularly causes motorway chaos with ill-advised merging attempts. I hasten to add that these debacles are sometimes caused by poor driving. And I advise such people to get a Ford Fiesta for everyone’s sake.

Moving swiftly on, the leather seats – or the vegan leather option, if you prefer – are high-end, without looking like puffy cow skin quilts. The leather continues along the dashboard along with a trim called Tsuyusami. These are charcoal-coloured inlays made with multiple layers of film. The cabin features ambient lighting with 50 different colour options.

Most importantly, as far as I’m concerned, is the driver’s seat. From the time you open the near-noiseless door, it’s clear that driver comfort is a priority. The cockpit concept is called Tazuna, which basically means the main controls and information sources are immediately around the driver. With some cars, where you get in the driver’s seat for the first time and spend 10 minutes working out where everything is. The LBX is simple and intuitive.

It’s a car for everyone, apparently

As a bonus for any household where people of varying heights drive the car, the LBX can memorise the seating positions for three different people. This is definitely something I would love in a car. I am the corgi-legged driver who slides the seat almost all the way forward to reach the pedals. My husband, while not a giant, still needs to adjust absolutely everything when he takes the wheel.

From the time you open the near-noiseless door, it’s clear that driver comfort is a priority

The steering wheel is designed so the instruments aren’t obscured when you turn the wheel. And if you want to shift it yourself, there are ergonomic paddle shifters for the times when the automatic gearbox doesn’t quite find the gear you want. They’re in easy reach for my twiggy little fingers.

I was at a static launch, so we didn’t get to drive the LBX. Instead, we spent a lot of time fondling parked cars, twiddling via touchscreen with radio stations, navigation and climate control, inspecting the generous luggage space, playing musical chairs with the front and back seats, counting cup-holders, admiring the 18-inch wheels, and pushing whatever buttons we could without accidentally sending the cars careering around the building.

Getting behind the wheel

I would love to take the LBX for a spin on the open road and around my patch of London. It has a 1.5-litre self-charging hybrid powertrain. So there are plenty of opportunities to enjoy zero-emissions motoring on my daily errands. Plus it’d be nice to see what the 134bhp and 185Nm of torque feels like on the M40.

While there is a big push towards getting everyone driving electric cars, for many drivers, the hybrids are a sensible, practical gateway between the internal combustion engine and pure electric. This is where the LBX should do well in the UK. Hybrid vehicle sales are up, reflecting the market research Lexus undertook when deciding what powertrain to bestow upon the LBX.

In the meantime, I will have to content myself with contemplating which of the four “atmospheres” (Elegant, Relaxed, Emotion, and Cool) I would choose on my LBX. And who knows? I might even end up making further inquiries when the order books open in October. You can make a reservation from next month.

Unlike my bizarre experience in customising my own Tesla Model S Plaid online, which culminated in the website asking me for a startlingly small £100 deposit, the LBX is offering all manner of toys for all four atmospheres, so all I really need to do is choose colours. And I really want the one with the red seatbelt.

The LBX is certainly luxurious, but it’s made for the real world — and, as I’m sure my old university colleagues would agree, it’s a world worth saving.

Georgia Lewis

In a career that has spanned Australia, the Middle East and the UK, Georgia has written about all sorts of things, including sex, cars, food, oil and gas, insurance, fashion, travel, workplace safety, health, religious affairs, glass and glazing… When she’s not writing words for fun and profit, she can usually be found with a glass of something French and red in her hand.

The post The Italian job: Checking out the new Lexus LBX in Milan appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Fenella Fielding had it spot on when she said, “People are very free with their bad advice.” And I’ve just about had enough of it.

In fact, the older I get, the more ‘advice’ I’m getting. This week I’ve been told by do-gooders in the news that people my age should drink less, for example. My Facebook feed is filled with sponsored posts about ways to look younger, and as for the health and fitness advice out there. Don’t get me started.

All of this is very well-meaning, I’m sure. But I’m not five; I’m nearly 50. And actually, I’m pretty happy with where I am, cheers.

I’m a grown-up now, thanks

With being 50 has come something of a new sense of freedom. I never worried about stuff much as a child – and by stuff I mean, like how I look in this dress, does my bum look big, will they like me, am I doing it the right way? etc – and refreshingly I find this ‘not giving a fig’ attitude is returning.

Hand on heart I can’t say I’m entirely free from self-critical behaviour, not at all. But I definitely have a stronger attitude, and with this comes a huge sense of relief. Not just relieved in an ‘about bloody time’ way, but how relieved I am to be a bit older.

How freeing it is to let go of the ‘perfect look’ and just be happy with what I’ve got. And actually be massively grateful to be here at all. I’ve lost many friends already. I hope others share this revelation as they age too, because I’d really like them to feel this relief and freedom. It’s utterly liberating.

And it came to me. I really like the way I look

I had some photos taken recently for a PR campaign. The 20- or 30-something me would have been picking over them afterwards, looking for faults. Worrying about the double chin or the angle of the shot – is it flattering? Wondering if that one made me look fat. What the actual F is happening to my hair in that one, etc? You know the drill.

And it came to me. I really like the way I look. I was actually looking at the composition of the photographs – not whether my arse looked gigantic.

I’m not perfect, but actually that is exactly the point. Being physically perfect has absolutely ceased to be my focus, and wow, I love that.

I love my life

I’ve had an unbelievably exciting time over the years. Sometimes amazing, sometimes truly terrible, but never boring. And you can see that, I think. I like the character in my face.

I like my bone structure, and I like the way my face isn’t symmetrical. And as for not having a perfect body… the fact I’m still standing after the gruelling hedonism I’ve asked it to take on is something I’m truly grateful for. Wow, but the liver is extraordinary, isn’t it?

More to the point, as I age, and lose friends and family to illness, disease and crisis, I know just exactly how lucky I am to still be here. I have a spare tyre? Christ, in the grand scheme of things that is so microscopically unimportant. Pass the port.

The last thing I want at this time in my life is for other people to be telling me what to do

It’s far more important to me these days to look and feel healthy than worry about wrinkles and baggy bits. And I cannot tell you how lovely that is. And the last thing I want at this time in my life is for other people to be telling me what to do or trying to give me new things to worry about.

Ah, the relief of ageing

Moving into later years there is a huge sense of letting go of the pressure we put upon ourselves. I’ve spent most of my adult life being dissatisfied with the way I look in one way or another. Depending on how good my mental health is, that can be picking at odd small things (“I hate this mole”) to literally not being able to stand seeing myself in the mirror, and crying in clothing shop changing rooms.

I’m not going to ask why we do this to ourselves. It’s obvious – apart from the pressure around us to look a certain way; being young and hot is what attracts people to us in our youth, in our breeding years. To imagine the focus will ever change on the glory of youth is unrealistic. But with that beautiful youth comes so much pressure, and it’s beyond liberating not to feel I’m in the competitive scrum any more. The sex soup.

I know that with our knowledge of nutrition and fitness I could ramp up my routines and have a body like I used to have (or more honestly, like I wanted to have). But I’m also totally behind those flexy, sexy silver gym bunnies who make their health and wellness a religion; good on you, seriously.

There’s a poignancy that comes with the passing of youth, like a sigh in an empty room

But this is about choices, and just as much as I choose to have a glass or wine or too much cheese, I uphold anyone else’s right to have that green smoothie, or do that tough mudder at 70. Just stop telling us what to do.

I’m aware that many people find the move from young to middle age a really hard transition. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling blue about it sometimes too. There’s a poignancy that comes with the passing of youth, like a sigh in an empty room. But speaking purely for myself, that kind of passed around 47. It helps that ‘being older’ is the new cool. And it really is. Just look around.

There are more adults in the UK over 45 than under

I would really love to hear from readers about their own experiences. There is an absolute tidal wave online championing the silver army. Here at Silver we want to know about you – we want to hear your triumphs and your disasters, your joys and your fears.

Get in touch. Comment below, or Tweet or post on IG with the hashtag #LifeBeginsAt50
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Photo of Sam by Erika Szostak

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Don’t tell me what to do! appeared first on Silver Magazine.