Sublime Renault Clio Dimma for sale

As the traditional hot hatch declines so dramatically, it’s no surprise to find that the classics – both new and old school – remain very desirable indeed. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. Furthermore, as modifying now feels limited to showing off what stage ECU you have or extra carbon fibre on a Lamborghini, so interest will only increase in those customised cars that represent a forgotten time. Factor in a continued fondness for the ’90s, a simpler time in every sense that still doesn’t seem long ago (even though it was) and the fascination with this Renault Clio isn’t hard to understand. 

Because this isn’t just a Renault Clio. It’s a 1.8 16v for one thing, a hot Clio that existed before the Williams and virtually extinct on its own. But it’s also a Dimma Clio, and to the boy racer generation there wasn’t (probably isn’t) anything cooler in the world than a Dimma. Superminis with supercar presence, the Dimma bodykits were as of their time as UK Garage and Little Chef. This Renault couldn’t be any more ’90s if there was a Blockbuster VHS in the glovebox. 

Dimma Design was a Belgian company, brought to the UK in 1986 by a guy called Terry Pankhurst. Back then the 205 was the bread and butter of the business, the widebody proving so popular that 12 Peugeot main dealers signed up to sell them (!) and around 250 were converted. A Dimma 205 featured on the cover of the first Max Power magazine; a more perfect match up it’s hard to imagine. 

The success of the 295 meant that Dimma design diversified the offering, with an assortment of European shopping cars being transformed from unassuming to unforgettable. With the Renault 5 having been Dimma’d during the “80s, making the front-engined cars look like Turbo 2 monsters, it was only a matter of time before the Clio replacement got its own bonkers bodykit. 

The car for sale here is number 13 of 38 Dimma Clios built; not a huge number, of course, because such bodykits were expensive and the insurance must have been through the roof. But pretty impressive given all the other cool cars around at the time. And the fact that Dimma Design may not have exactly been to all tastes. 

This one was in a bit of a sorry state when it came to its most recent owner, a man desperate for a Dimma hot hatch who was so focused on the 205s he’d forgotten about the Renault. The condition was such that it was taken back to the bare metal, replacement standard parts sourced from a donor Clio, and the whole thing resprayed Bayside Blue like a GT-R. The interior is from a Williams, and the engine is also said to benefit from few choice upgrades off the 2.0-litre car. 

The result, after £15,000 and a whole lot of work, is spectacular to say the least. With very few miles covered since the restoration, it looks pretty much perfect, the slats and spoilers and centre exit exhausts as jaw dropping as ever. And that’s just the obvious stuff; the more you look the more impressive this Clio becomes, from a fabulously preserved Williams interior to a pristine engine bay and superb underside. The gold Compomotive wheels are the ideal match for a Dimma Clio; somehow the parcel shelf doesn’t have any 6x9s in it. 

So while this isn’t the Clio 16v for purists, a Dimma’d car like this promises the sort of affection few other £25k classics could command. Because this sort of thing was the everyday exotic, a car that was both instantly recognisable yet wildly, thrillingly different as well; when you could only afford an air filter and an exhaust but had dreams of a roadgoing tarmac rally car, a Dimma was the goal. Because you’d read all about it in Max Power. It’s a fantastic snapshot of a car culture that, if you’re a Gen Xer or senior millennial, is likely sorely missed. This was what freedom, aspiration and aura looked like to young car nuts in the late ’90s, and it still seems absolutely brilliant from here. Catch you at the seafront.