DS 3 Performance

Is a luxurious hot hatch an oxymoron? It seems not

‘I’m not sure chrome has a place on hot hatches, but I reckon DS has managed to make it work’

MMONTH TWO WITH DS’S take on a ‘luxury’ hot hatch has proved enlightening, as expected, with further time behind the wheel highlighting more of the car’s contradictory traits.

To recap, my initial doubts about the DS 3 Performance concerned its confusing ethos of being a vivacious, pint-sized hot hatch and a luxury proposition (with a price tag to match) at the same time. That’s not really possible at this level, right? Well, perhaps it is. Let’s start with the aesthetics, which are an area in which DS has succeeded in melding a little opulence with pure hot-hatch thuggishness. This car has minimal overhangs and a low stance, and thanks to the yellow paintjob the rugged wheelarch extensions pop like black eyeliner paired with a pretty floral dress. All good things. I’m not sure chrome really has a place on hot hatches, but I reckon DS has managed to make it work in this case, perhaps because the headlight design is quite elegant while the gaping maw of the radiator grille gives the car the necessary aggression. A bit of bling is forgivable, then, although I say that as someone who secretly admires the quirkiness of Citroën’s Cactus, so you may wish to take that with a pinch of salt.

Unfortunately, the DS3’S interior is less successful. The shiny plastics fail in their mission to impart a sophisticated vibe and the dashboard elements don’t feel as well screwed together as you might hope. The steering wheel also feels overly large for a hot hatch. An interior worthy of a car with a £23,335 price tag? Not really. A Mini John Cooper Works costs roughly the same and, just like the DS, goes for an indulgent cabin feel, but with far greater success. By using textured metals alongside higherquality plastics, it exudes a feeling of quality that’s in another league.

One thing the DS 3 undeniably nails, however, is its seats. From what I can tell, they’re the same as those in the Peugeot 208 GTI by Peugeot Sport, which is most definitely a good thing. Broadshouldered and with Alcantara

centre sections, they look the part, and though they don’t lock you into place like, say, the optional Recaro buckets in the Focus RS, they’re still adequately supportive and yet comfy enough on longer drives. However, despite this, I really struggle to find that sweet spot in the driving position. There’s seemingly no escaping the feeling of sitting on the car, rather than in it.

I’ve yet to take the DS 3 Performance on track, but I certainly don’t envisage myself slipping awkwardly across the seat as the car’s Michelin Pilot Super Sport tyres bite and the limited-slip differential hooks up. It ought to be good fun, especially as with 205bhp and a kerb weight of just 1175kg, this car has the go to justify the show. That next evo track evening can’t come around soon enough.