Icons of Aspiration: The Defining Supercar of Each Decade

Before social media algorithms dictated desire, there was the bedroom wall. A single poster, often glossy, impossibly angled, and slightly curling at the corners, could define a generation’s automotive aspirations. One from each decade stood apart, not necessarily because it was the best, but because it captured the imagination at the right time. With that in mind, here's our pick for the ultimate bedroom wall supercar from each decade.

1960s: Lamborghini Miura

Launched: 1966

Ferruccio Lamborghini wanted to beat Ferrari at its own game, and the Miura was a provocation in every sense. The transverse mid-mounted V12 was innovative, but the real disruption came from the car’s stance and its proportions. It was the first time a car looked unapologetically fast even when stationary; a design that owed more to sculpture than to engineering diagrams. In the broader context of postwar Italy, the Miura was a declaration that industrial design could be sensuous, that youth and irreverence had a place in luxury, and that a tractor manufacturer could challenge Ferrari on its own turf.

1970s: Lamborghini Countach

Launched: 1974

If the Miura introduced beauty, the Countach weaponised it. It abandoned curves for geometry, continuity for confrontation. In a decade defined by geopolitical instability, oil shocks, and economic anxiety, the Countach offered an alternative reality: one where function deferred to form, and where excess was not only tolerated but celebrated. Its proportions were architectural, its ergonomics borderline absurd, and its usability irrelevant. It was designed not to be driven but to be seen — an object of desire detached from the constraints of the real world.

1980s: Ferrari F40

Launched: 1987

The F40 was Ferrari’s 40th birthday present to itself. It had pop-up headlights, twin turbos, a featherweight body made of things you couldn’t pronounce. No carpets. No radio. No pretence of comfort. It was the last car Enzo Ferrari approved before his death, and it shows. There's a kind of angry purity to it, as if it resented the idea of being driven by anyone unworthy.

1990s: McLaren F1

Launched: 1992

Gordon Murray had a very specific idea of what a perfect car should be, and nobody told him to stop. The result was the McLaren F1. Central driving position. Naturally aspirated BMW V12. Gold foil in the engine bay. It was a car with no obvious weaknesses. It aimed at perfection and achieved it. It wasn’t a poster car because it shouted. It was a poster car because it didn’t have to.

2000s: Bugatti Veyron

Launched: 2005

Volkswagen Group built the Veyron to demonstrate technical dominance. Everything about it, the quad-turbo W16, the ten radiators, the all-wheel-drive system, spoke to systems integration at the highest level. It was a hypercar that marked a new era and set the benchmark for all performance based manufacturers. 20 years on and in the eyes of many, it still does.

2010s: Pagani Huayra

Launched: 2011

In a decade increasingly defined by simulation and software, the Pagani Huayra was a striking outlier. It wasn’t trying to beat Ferrari or McLaren at their own game. In fact, it wasn’t really playing the same game at all. Built with obsessive attention to detail and an unapologetically romantic design philosophy, the Huayra placed craftsmanship above competition. Its AMG-sourced, twin-turbo V12 delivered ample performance, but that was never the point. What distinguished the Huayra was its sense of occasion, a cabin assembled like a bespoke instrument panel, every exposed linkage and fastener deliberately designed to be seen, not hidden. It viewed the supercar as art, where performance was simply part of a much larger, more expressive whole.