Taras WOLF feature Article. 9th July 2025
How the Law of Attraction Helped Me Live the Classic Car Dream
By Taras Wolf
Silver dreaming
For me, enjoying a classic Mercedes begins long before I even have the keys in hand. It starts with desire, real personal desire. The car must mean something to me. It might be a model that once belonged to my parents or someone I admired growing up, or simply a car that stirred something deep within me when I first saw it. Take the R129 SL for example. I still vividly remember its release in 1989. I was completely awestruck seeing it on the cover of a car magazine. That sense of awe never left me, and owning one today feels like fulfilling a long-held dream.
The journey to ownership is just as meaningful as the car itself. I approach it with care, patience and anticipation. I research obsessively, reading, studying and inspecting real cars in the flesh. It’s not a casual browse, it’s a committed process. Great examples don’t last long, so I always make sure I’m prepared to act quickly. That means having my finances in order, often by selling other possessions or saving over a stretch of time. That effort, along with the discipline it demands, makes the final acquisition all the more rewarding. Things are rarely satisfying when they’re handed to you easily.
Interestingly, my obsession with a car often starts years before ownership through scale model toys. I’ve always had a fascination with miniature versions of the cars I dream of owning. Many of my real cars began life as 1:18 or 1:43 scale models on my shelf. It’s not just collecting, it’s a way of visualising and manifesting those dreams, almost like practising the Law of Attraction.
One particular example stands out vividly. Back when I was still learning about classic Mercedes, before everything was available on your phone, most of my information came from books. I remember coming across the W111 cabriolet for the very first time. It was in silver, pictured beautifully on a glossy page. I’d never even seen one in person, so that book image was all I had, but it captivated me. I remember thinking to myself, “I’d love to have a car like that one day.” A few months later, I was in London for a dance competition, walking past a Mercedes-Benz dealership, and there it was in the window, a 1:18 scale model of that exact cabriolet, in the same silver I had admired. In pounds it felt a little expensive, but I had to have it. That model lived on a shelf in my bedroom where I could wish it good morning and goodnight every day.
Purchasing my first scale model of a W111 280SE cabriolet. Note the silver toy car in the window display which caught my eyes.
Models always in sight.
Would you believe it, within six months of that moment, I was in the right place at the right time to become the proud owner of a real-life W111 cabriolet, one of only six cars originally delivered to Australia, and the only one in silver. The same silver as the model. From paper, to miniature, to reality. It felt like magic, but it was really just the Law of Attraction at work. Manifested through focus, desire and belief. Nearly 3 decades later I still keep that 1:18 Scale cabriolet in my bedroom, as a reminder to keep dreaming.
Once I acquire the real car, the model obsession only grows. I then make it a mission to find that exact car in every scale it was ever produced in, 1:87, 1:64, 1:43, 1:24, 1:18 and beyond. This can be particularly challenging with models like the Pagoda SL, which has been reproduced in hundreds of variations over decades and continues to be made even today. Naturally, I insist on having them in the exact colour of my real-life car. If that colour doesn’t exist, I’ll custom paint the model myself. It’s obsessive, but deeply satisfying. It creates a mirrored world, my garage in miniature.
I also make a point of collecting original factory brochures, not just one, but all the variations, including different years and international editions. There’s something incredibly enjoyable about reading those brochures before owning the car. It builds excitement, as if I’ve travelled back in time and am about to order the car brand new from a showroom. The photography, tone, typography, it’s all part of the experience. After ownership, these brochures form a complete historical and emotional record, alongside the scale models and documentation.
This Autocar & Motor Magazine from December 1989 featured a 500SL on the cover and was the first time I saw the new SL that I would dream of owning one day.
Another aspect of my enthusiasm is discovering old magazines or books that feature my exact model in the exact same colour, especially when it appears on the cover. That becomes a definite must-have for the collection. It’s as if the car gains a kind of celebrity status, being immortalised in print just as it sits in my garage. It strengthens the connection and adds yet another layer of meaning to the ownership experience.
Taking that a step further, myself and my cars have even become feature stories in many of the very car magazines I used to collect and study back when I didn’t even own a car. How cool is that? To grow up flipping through pages that inspired you to one day own a dream car, and then to not only realise that dream but actually appear in those same publications. It’s surreal, deeply gratifying and, once again, a clear example of the Law of Attraction in play. It’s also a lovely thought that perhaps my cars and story in print might go on to inspire the next generation in the same way.
Once the car is in my hands, the joy of ownership evolves into an ongoing relationship of care and enhancement. I’ve never bought a fully restored car, because I could never afford the premium for such cars, but that has turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Firstly, it taught me what to look for, particularly with things I could do or source myself in order to save and be economical, and secondly, it helped me to bond and make the car emotionally mine. The process of working on it gradually, bit by bit, is a huge part of the joy.
Spending time late at night searching the internet for spare parts, or learning how to do things yourself on YouTube, has become something I genuinely enjoy. It’s not only valuable and practical, but also a peaceful and satisfying way to wind down the day. Instead of reading a book or watching TV, I often fall asleep with my thoughts full of repair ideas, parts to chase or plans for the weekend’s work ahead. Further to that, I also find myself dreaming of all the beautiful rides to come when the car is as perfect as I can get it, and that too is part of the visualising and Law of Attraction. These beautiful cars, in many ways, represent a beautiful life.
Every upgrade I make feels like embedding my own fingerprint on the car. One of the first things I always do is replace the steering wheel with a brand new factory old stock Mercedes Benz unit. It must be genuine, never aftermarket. That simple change transforms the driving experience, making the car feel crisp and new. I also apply the same philosophy to the gear knob. Each of my cars receives a factory new old stock gear stick. These are the two most tactile parts of the interior, and having them feel fresh elevates the whole driving sensation.
The radio is another area I’m particular about. It must either be original or period correct. That said, I also appreciate modern needs like Bluetooth and handsfree. Thankfully, many old units can now be discreetly modified with hidden modern functionality. Alternatively, I’m open to reproduction units that look convincingly vintage while offering current day tech. The main thing is to preserve the integrity and aesthetic of the original cabin.
Beyond the mechanical and functional, I put great care into the finer personal touches that complete the identity of each car. One such detail is the registration plate. In my earlier days, when I only had one or two classics, I made the effort to secure personalised number plates, ideally with a combination of digits or letters that suited the car, and have them mounted on plate styles correct to the era. It was another way of honouring the car’s period and character. However, as my collection grew, the costs of renewing multiple personalised registrations became impractical, especially for cars that aren’t driven daily. That’s when the Club Permit system became the sensible choice. The Club Permit plates are much more affordable and allow the cars to remain road legal for occasional use. The only drawback is that they all come in a standard maroon colour. Luckily, since most of my cars are finished in silver or other light, neutral tones, the maroon plate doesn’t look too jarring against them.
Finding the period look to number plates is always a nice finishing touch, but can get expensive in larger car collections
To round out the personal touches, I match each car with a suitable Mercedes Benz keychain, ideally from the same era or one that reflects the car’s character. If there wasn’t a keychain from that period, I find one that suits the car’s spirit. I even assign a dedicated pair of sunglasses and a hat to each car, selected to complement its era and aesthetic. These items live in the glovebox or console, always ready for the next drive. It might seem quirky, but it adds to the ritual, turning even the shortest journey into a moment of celebration.
I particularly like a key-ring with matching metal die-cast car in Stirling silver or chromed finish. Here is one for the R129 next to an even smaller silver lapel pin.
I also make an effort to enter my cars into annual events, especially the Mercedes Benz Club Concours. It’s not about winning trophies, though nearly every car I’ve owned has picked up an award of some kind. The real value is in having a reason to keep the car in peak condition. Like an athlete training for a race, the competition gives structure and motivation. Preparing for a show gives me targets and deadlines to address details that might otherwise be overlooked. And of course, any awards the car earns become part of its living history, something tangible and meaningful that’s passed on to the next owner.
The annual Motorclassica event in Melbourne is a great event to showcase and celebrate classic cars.
Perhaps the most important part of classic car ownership is actually driving them. These cars weren’t designed to sit still or only be admired from afar. I rotate my cars regularly, often based on the season. Some handle the summer better, while others are more at home in the colder months. The key is to enjoy them as they were intended. I don’t own these cars to show off or to impress anyone else. I own them because of how they make me feel. And if someone smiles or nods in admiration as I drive past, that’s a lovely bonus, but the real reward is the quiet happiness and pride I feel behind the wheel. That’s what keeps me going after all these years.
Interestingly, being so involved in the maintenance also teaches you an important lesson. How many cars is enough? It’s easy to get carried away collecting, but too many cars means you’re constantly dealing with maintenance, registration and storage costs. You reach a point where you’re spending more time working on them than actually enjoying them. And if you can’t find the time to keep up with them all, they start to deteriorate from neglect, which only adds more work and stress. If it’s just me doing everything, I also risk losing time for the other parts of my life. So without wanting this to become a full time job, I’ve learned to be sensible. It’s about finding a healthy balance. A number of cars I can maintain, enjoy and afford without compromising the joy that made me start this hobby in the first place.
Admittedly, it’s not always easy to head out in the rain after hours spent detailing a car to showroom standard, but sometimes you have to remind yourself that these machines were engineered to be driven in the wind and rain just as much as in sunshine. I’m still learning to embrace that mindset more fully. Driving my best cars more often, even in less than perfect weather, is something I’m working on. Slowly but surely, I’m learning that true enjoyment of these cars comes not just from preserving them, but from living with them.
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