By Paul Kramer · November 7, 2025

If you’ve been watching auctions lately, you’ve probably noticed that restomods are having a BIG moment.

You can’t throw a torque wrench without hitting a six-figure “reimagined” Porsche, a carbon-bodied Bronco, or an Alfa that costs more than a brand-new 992. It’s official: nostalgia has gone high-tech.

Restomods are the automotive equivalent of a remix—classic looks, modern performance, and a whole lot less carb tuning. They let you have your cake (vintage cool) and eat it too (reliable A/C and Apple CarPlay). For people many of today’s enthusiasts, that’s a dream come true.

But here’s the rub: the market is hotter than a turbo manifold, and some folks are treating these builds like investment-grade art instead of road-going fun machines. We’ve hit the point where a Singer 911 or an Icon 4x4 gets trailered more than it gets driven. And isn’t that missing the whole point?

A restomod should be about freedom—the freedom to hammer it down a canyon road without worrying if your magnesium wheels will crack from 1973 fatigue or your needlessly complicated Italian fuel injection doesn’t have a coughing attack in the middle of a turn. When done right, it’s the best of both worlds. When done as a cash grab, it’s just a shiny bubble waiting to pop.

So are restomods a blessing or a bubble? Maybe a bit of both. Like any great remix, it depends on who’s behind the turntables.

— Paul Kramer

PS: If you’re sitting on a perfectly restored classic and afraid to drive it, a tastefully built restomod might be your golden ticket back to smiles per mile.

🎙️ Tune in: This week on Full Throttle Talk, we’re debating “OEM+ vs Overbuilt”—where’s the line between preserving history and rewriting it?

Restomods booming or bubbling? 296 Speciale worth it or overhyped?

Drop your thoughts inside our private Facebook group — where the arguments get spicy (and fun).

By Tim Harris · November 7, 2025

I own a Ferrari 296 GTS. When the Speciale was announced, I was fortunate enough to be offered an allocation. And I passed on it.

Here’s why.

On paper, the Speciale is the “hardcore” version of the 296. More downforce, a bit more power, stiffer suspension, lighter weight if you tick the carbon-everything boxes. It looks sharper, no doubt about it. But when I really looked at the differences — before even factoring in the massive jump in price — they simply weren’t enough to justify it.

Today, you can buy a 296 GTB for somewhere in the mid-$300k range. The Speciale? Mid-$600s, before you even talk about wilder Ferrari option prices. That’s basically double.

Does it feel like double the car? Not to me. Even the most enthusiastic early reviews admit the Speciale feels maybe 10–15% sharper, a touch faster on track. That’s great, but the value equation doesn’t add up unless your only measure is exclusivity.

And then there’s the elephant in the room: Ferrari themselves may not think the Speciale is special enough. There’s already chatter about an even more extreme “super Speciale” coming — something that will sit above the Speciale in the hierarchy.

So if you buy a Speciale today, are you really buying the car, or just the stepping stone to the car Ferrari really wants to make? A lot of journalists are asking the same thing. Road & Track even said it out loud: the Speciale isn’t the giant leap that cars like the 458 Speciale once were. It’s a modest step.

The 296 GTS I already own delivers nearly everything the Speciale promises, with the bonus of open-top driving. It’s fast, it’s sharp, and it’s deeply engaging — on the road or on track. The Speciale may be marginally quicker, but not in a way that justifies paying double.

Ferrari has a long history of making truly transformative “Speciale” models. The 430 Scuderia. The 458 Speciale. Those cars felt like different animals compared to their base models. The 296 Speciale? It feels more like Ferrari tweaking the formula rather than reinventing it.

I love that Ferrari is pushing boundaries, but this time, I’m sitting it out. I’ll keep enjoying my GTS, thank you very much.

— Tim Harris

🏁 The Full Throttle Talk Team