There wasn't a plan for a Mini convertible in the late 1950's when Alec Issigonis's revolution turned the motoring world on its head. And after John Cooper turned the baby wonder into world-beating racer nobody would've considered cutting its roof off.
Some Brit called Crayford apparently did a few conversions but they were specialist jobs; among those who ordered them was 1960's playboy photographer Anthony Armstrong-Jones, otherwise known as Lord Snowdon, consort of Princess Margaret.
Another was Goon Peter Sellers, whose ragtopped Mini apparently had wicker sides. Imagine that in a Euro NCAP crash test.
Today, of course, the Mini has been reinvented and it was only a matter of time before what has become a neo-icon had its top cut off.
You've seen them, I'm sure: cheeky little blighters, low, squat and wide, still waving the Mini flag, albeit in a 21st century manner.
The Mini Cooper Cabriolet has exactly the same drive train as its fixed-roof sibling. It's going to be quick enough; it only weighs about 1250kg and its 1.6-litre engine produces a claimed 85kW at 6000rpm with a reasonable 150Nm of grunt at four-and-a-half.
The book says the Cooper ragtop will sprint to 100km/h in a smidgen over 10sec and run to 185km/h, but the numbers are not what this little beauty is about.
Instead, it's about fun, about pointing and squirting and exploring. It does all of that with aplomb, quick steering and great handling thanks to the fact that there's a wheel at each corner of the short, 3.6m-long Cooper Cab.
The Cooper Cab's front wheels are driven through a five-speed manual gearbox, a friendly cog-swopper that keeps the 85kW honest most of the time.
It stops well, too, with discs all round aided by a plethora of electronic aids, and even under harsh braking there's little scuttle shake. Indeed, the body twist that's associated with ragtops isn't apparent under most circumstances.
The roof does tend to let in a little noise at speed, not too intrusive but enough to let you know that it's made of canvas.
Perhaps for me, though, the Cooper convertible was about detail: an electric roof that fits properly and comes down quickly, folding pretty neatly into a slot behind the two (midgetish) rear seats. Those seats are leather and very stylish, since we're on that subject, and body-hugging, multi-adjustable for the driver.
You get into the Mini Cooper using the remote on the key; the door handles are unfriendly, though, and I pinched my skin on occasion.
You sit low and comfortable at the leather-clad steering wheel with everything to hand; there might, however, be a bit too much plastic for most. When you're paying R207 600 it's a little more low-rent than you'd expect.
Sideways fun
The Cooper stays (using 2006 hi-tech) true to the genre, with a huge centrally mounted speedo (remember that?) offset by a rev counter plonked atop the steering column. It's a grey, plastic affair with similarly adorned indicator and light switches.
Another stylish finishing touch are the switches in the centre console, little chromed levers that operate everything from the power windows to the traction control if you want to have some sideways fun with the Cooper.
When I was growing up (yesterday?) there were two types of motoring people: Minis and Beetles. Mostly, it hinged on what your parents had ended up with. I was brought up in a Beetle. And while the Mini was never really a convertible, the Beetle of yore had been "done". Remember the European 1303, among others?
In the 21st century, however, the Beetle Cabriolet doesn't work where the Mini convertible does. It's a desirable little car and proved a perfect foil for the Indian summer we've been having during these beautiful, warm days we've been having here in Durban.