A car magazine, without the “testosterone-fuelled narrative”
Sunday is a car magazine for people who don’t usually buy car magazines. The editor’s letter is a hymn to living life in the slow lane: “I’m a little tired of being sold this overly slick testosterone fueled narrative that invites me to seek status, demand the best, overtake others and ultimately be the kind of unwavering chisel jawed badass who wakes up in the morning and proceeds to Patrick Bateman his way to the top.” The opening pieces in this issue, Sunday’s first, are quiet and curious; our favourite is ‘Trunk Oddity’, a recurring feature where a writer tells us what’s in their trunk.
There’s an odd, obviously sponsored bit of content at the end involving a Volvo XC60 T8 — this, along with the fashion editorial in the magazine, is a bit bland. What really works here are the photographs of vintage cars: pictures of an Aston Martin Lagonda are so beautiful they make you ache inside.
Sunday is a good name for this magazine, evoking lazy elegance. The car world can be a bit nerdy and male; this magazine is a nice counterpoint to all that.
