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Steve McQueen’s 1957 Jaguar XKSS: The King of Cool’s Road-Going Legend NEW YORK, NY – March 25, 2026 – Every once in a while, a story comes along that transcends its subject matter, embedding itself into the very fabric of culture. The legend of Steve McQueen—a man who embodied contradictions, defined an era, and became an icon of rugged charisma—is one such tale. And at the heart of this myth lies a machine that mirrors his complex, exhilarating existence: his 1957 Jaguar XKSS. This isn’t just a car; it’s a rolling testament to a life lived on the edge, a mechanical muse that soundtracked the golden age of Hollywood’s bad boys. For those of us who’ve spent the better part of a decade immersed in the automotive world, McQueen’s name conjures instant imagery: the gravelly voice, the intense blue gaze, the effortless swagger. He was more than an actor; he was a force of nature, a paradox wrapped in leather and denim. He could be mercurial and sensitive, a perfectionist with a destructive streak, a ladies’ man with a soul as turbulent as the engines he adored. It’s this very complexity that made him so captivating, a human drama playing out against the backdrop of mid-20th-century America. Today, nearly a quarter-century after his untimely death from cancer at just 50 years old, the McQueen myth only grows stronger. He, along with contemporaries like Newman, Brando, and Garner, forged a blueprint for the American anti-hero, a mold that’s been endlessly imitated but never duplicated. Yet, while the silver screen cemented his fame, it was the open road, the rumble of an engine, and the smell of race fuel that truly defined his spirit. The Chromatic Pulse of the King of Cool To understand Steve McQueen is to understand his obsession with machines. Before he was “The King of Cool,” he was just a troubled kid from poverty-stricken Indiana, a dyslexic who found solace in tinkering with engines. This wasn’t a hobby; it was a primal need, a way to impose order on a chaotic world. His films, from the iconic motorcycle chase in The Great Escape to the visceral ballet of Le Mans, became unintentional showcases for this passion. But it was in the original The Thomas Crown Affair that we saw a glimpse of his personal pursuits, as he drove a custom dune buggy on the beaches of Malibu. It was a fleeting moment, but it foreshadowed the legendary On Any Sunday, the 1971 motorcycle documentary that remains one of the most authentic portraits of the sport ever captured. Yet, for true car aficionados, two cinematic masterpieces stand above all others: Bullitt and Le Mans. The former, released in 1968, birthed one of the most iconic car chases in history—a heart-stopping, asphalt-shredding pursuit through the hilly streets of San Francisco. The green Mustang Fastback, Frank Bullitt’s steed, became as legendary as the actor himself. McQueen drove the Mustang in nearly all the harrowing sequences, his hands gripping the wheel with a familiarity that spoke of years of practice. Le Mans, on the other hand, was a deeply personal project, a labor of love that nearly consumed him. McQueen poured his own money, time, and soul into creating a film that captured the raw, unvarnished truth of endurance racing. He wanted to show the danger, the glory, the sheer human will required to compete at the highest level. He drove a Gulf-liveried Porsche 917 in the actual 1970 race, sharing the cockpit with legendary driver Jackie Stewart. The production was a maelstrom of creative ambition and personal turmoil—directors came and went, the budget spiraled out of control, and his marriage to Neile Adams unraveled amidst the chaos. But the film endures, a raw, emotional testament to a sport that demands everything. It’s here that McQueen uttered his timeless mantra: “Racing is life. Anything that happens before or after is just waiting.” This wasn’t just marketing fodder; McQueen possessed genuine driving talent. He wasn’t quite at the level of a professional Formula 1 driver, but he had the skill, the nerve, and the competitive fire to hold his own. In 1970, he teamed up with Peter Revson at the Sebring 12 Hours, piloting a Porsche 908/2. While the factory Porsches and Ferraris succumbed to mechanical failures, McQueen and Revson’s tenacious drive saw them climb the leaderboard, ultimately finishing a hard-earned second overall, narrowly beaten by a flying Mario Andretti in a Ferrari 512. It was a performance that silenced the doubters and proved that the King of Cool could walk the walk. From Rags to Riches: The Ascent of a Mechanical Maverick McQueen’s early automotive history was a testament to his rags-to-riches story. His first cars were humble MGs, affordable and accessible. But as his star rose, so did his taste in machinery. He graduated to a Lotus 11, then a formidable 289 Cobra, and eventually, Ferraris—the pinnacle of Italian automotive exotica. He also owned Porsches, Packards, and a collection that rivaled any museum. By the time of his death, he had amassed dozens of cars and more than 100 motorcycles, each one a reflection of his evolving passions. Among these automotive treasures was a 1957 Jaguar XKSS, chassis number XK.SS.713. This wasn’t just another car in his collection; it was a legend in its own right, a road-legal version of one of the most dominant race cars of the 1950s. To understand the significance of the XKSS, we must first look to its progenitor: the Jaguar D-Type. In the 1950s, Jaguar was a dominant force in international motorsport. The brand, under the visionary leadership of Sir William Lyons, churned out a string of iconic racers—the XK120M, the C-Type, and the legendary D-Type. Jaguars claimed victory at the 24 Hours of Le Mans an astonishing five times during that decade, including a remarkable hat-trick in 1955, 1956, and 1957. The D-Type, introduced in 1954, was a masterpiece of automotive engineering. Designed by Malcolm Sayer, the same aerodynamicist behind the iconic E-Type, it featured a revolutionary monocoque chassis for the rear section, a lightweight tubular frame for the front, and Jaguar’s legendary XK inline-six engine. With its distinctive long nose, prominent dorsal fin for high-speed stability, and purposeful stance, the D-Type was as beautiful as it was fast. But by the late 1950s, the D-Type was nearing the end of its competitive life. Stricter regulations, particularly the 3.0-liter engine displacement mandate for 1958, hampered its performance against newer rivals like the Ferrari Testa Rossa and Aston Martin DBR1. Jaguar, recognizing the need to evolve, eventually phased out the D-Type in favor of its successor, the E-Type. However, Jaguar found itself with a surplus of unsold D-Types—some 25 customer cars remained on the books. The solution was ingenious: convert these purebred racers into road-going grand tourers. The result was the XKSS, a car that captured the essence of the D-Type while making it suitable for the street. The transformation involved several key modifications. A full-width windscreen replaced the rudimentary aero screens, and a removable fabric roof was added, albeit one that was notoriously difficult to deploy in anything other than perfect weather. A more substantial exhaust system was fitted, although it still left plenty of room for singed calves on hot days. Side curtains provided rudimentary weather protection, and a pair of upholstered seats replaced the minimalist racing buckets. In essence, Jaguar took a race-winning machine, softened its edges just enough to make it street-legal, and created something truly extraordinary. Only 16 XKSS models were built, making it one of the rarest and most desirable Jaguars of all time. The Green Rat: A Match Made in Hollywood One of these coveted XKSS models found its way into the hands of a young, ambitious actor named Steve McQueen. Chassis 713, originally painted a light cream with a red interior, arrived in the United States in 1957. Its first owner, building contractor James Peterson, had a hand in the construction of Riverside International Raceway, a fitting pedigree for a car destined for automotive greatness. Peterson soon sold the XKSS to Bill Leyden, a local radio and television personality who famously parked the car on the Sunset Strip, right in front of a television studio. It was there that a young, aspiring actor first laid eyes on the machine that would become his automotive soulmate. McQueen, ever the impulsive spirit, acquired the car in 1958 for a reported $4,000. He immediately set about making it his own. The car was repainted in British Racing Green, a color that would become synonymous with McQueen’s passion for Jaguars. Tony Nancy, a legendary drag racer and upholsterer, retrimmed the interior in rich black leather, creating a cockpit that was both luxurious and functional. And then there was Von Dutch, the enigmatic pinstriper and automotive artist, who fabricated a metal glovebox door to cover