Seldom in our little corner of the internet do we see such an individual and wildly creative idea take centre like what we have seen with Get Lost’s Project Safari. Having made his name in one of the most demanding creative industries, George Williams (@gfwilliams) has now taken a stab at the car building business. Seemingly, he’s betting heavily on his years of experience with photography and his love for the Lotus brand. In combination with a talented group of collaborators and friends, whom he readily credits as the vessel for this project, George seems to have struck a chord with those of us who’ve had a serious yearning for something so well thought-through. Here’s what I mean with that.
There are two ways to go about this. The first and easiest is to modify a car. On the other hand, you can at least attempt to craft a cohesive vision, with some sort of ethos. Something that doesn’t beg to be understood or explained. This starts with, as I already mentioned, a strong team of people, which also included a client who believed in the idea from the start. That’s important when you’re creating an object which resonates on more than just a superficial level. George always had an idea of what he wanted this car to look like, largely based on how it can be photographed. Bear in mind we are talking about a man here which has participated in countless press releases, unveilings, and shoots.
These experiences informed his perspectives on creative expression, design, and of course, technical resource. Before highlighting two of my favourite aesthetic decisions, it’s important to mention that it is a rolling, clean-sheet experiment. The suspension was largely done before the body got its design elements, which are not wholly final. The first of these details is the line created by the wider front arch meeting the body. With the addition of the all-terrain tyres, not only does this define the Safari look for me, it also neatly compliments the Elise’s lines. This becomes apparent when we see the treatment of the rear arch and where it meets the body. That small difference in height and slope captures the midship layout of the car, and retains the almost staggered yet planted look of the original.
The second detail that immediately stood out is the rear void in between the lights which used to house the license plate. It is very, and I repeat, very difficult to reinterpret a design element which was so neatly integrated into the original look. Viewing it from the rear, we see how the wishbone-shaped channels which support the scoop inlet integrate well with the “V” which this void mimics. That leaves an almost perfect “basket” in which the spare wheel can sit.
And it doesn’t end there. In the absence of technical and pricing details, it’s important to convey the meaning of GET LOST, beyond the car itself. As George and I chuckled in agreement to how well executed the aesthetic details are, he mentioned the fact that the name implies a true sense of confidence. You can take it or leave it, and that speaks a lot to how unconventional this whole undertaking is. With a considerably smaller budget than its established peers at Singer or Icon, this had to have a strong creative foundation. The choice of the Elise was important too. The car absolutely oozes classlessness. A plucky and completely accessible characteristic which, through clever engineering decisions, is amplified. It was important for George and his team not to lose sight of that throughout the project. It’s a toy, and it had to remain so. That whole sense of not taking itself too seriously makes it, to me, much more attractive.
That approach of confident silliness continues with the technical decisions. The ground-up design employs a completely bespoke suspension system, an entirely new powertrain, and in contribution to the silliness, it’s got a hydraulic handbrake and a limited-slip diff. I will not comment on driving characteristics, as I’m hoping George will let me get behind the wheel at a later stage *wink wink*.
As someone with a technical background and knowing some of the people involved, I’m reassured understanding the breadth of the decisions made to forge a novel identity amidst staying true to what makes the Elise S1 special. And if you don’t trust that then you can gawk at the roof-scoop until we have driving impressions.
There’s something truly special about honouring your silly ideas, and getting the people and resources to pull it together. In the hyper commercial landscape of the current automotive industry, especially within the context of social media, it is so easy to be swayed. For protecting this idea until its full gestation is something I can only applaud George and his team. It’s brave and it’s deliberate. Most of all? It’s just a load of fun.
