ack Morris treasures his 2009 Lamborghini Murcielago LP 640. But it’s not always easy to love.
“It’s huge, it’s heavy, it’s clunky, you can’t see out of it,” says the 24-year-old of the orange V-12. “On paper, if a Porsche 911 is a good car, I would say this one is not good.” That hasn’t stopped him from putting 16,000 miles on the engine since buying it two years ago.
“It’s not going to deliver times anywhere near as fast as the newer stuff,” he says. “But I don’t care about any of that. I love it because it delivers something memorable.”
Morris isn’t alone in embracing the idiosyncrasies of supercar life. Hundreds of like-minded owners brought their Bugattis, Ferraris, Koenigseggs and Paganis to the Wynn Las Vegas on Nov. 1. The value of the vehicles entered in the 600-car concours totaled $1.1 billion, according to the Wynn.
The demographics of the owners may surprise you. Many are young, and they’re eager to actually drive their exotics rather than keep them stored with low mileage. Ask the companies that make the cars and the dealers who sell them, and you’ll hear that it’s this vibrant group of aficionados who are the reason the market seems immune to the toll of tariffs and disappointing electric vehicle sales.
“We see more customers from a younger generation approaching the hypercar market,” says Christopher Pagani, the son of the founder and head of marketing for the eponymous supercar company. “You sit all of them at the same table, and they’ll never talk about money. They’ll always talk about their passion.”
Supercars, hypercars and megacars (those with 1,341 horsepower, or roughly one megawatt) are superlative vehicles produced in tiny quantities. They often introduce advanced technologies that push them to astounding speeds — and they have the price tags to match.
The segment has grown in every way since Lamborghini debuted the 350-horsepower Miura in 1966. The first supercar, it cost around $20,000 (the equivalent of $199,000 today). By the 1990s, Lamborghini Diablos cost around $240,000 ($495,000). The 1,080hp Lamborghini Fenomeno announced in August? Try $3.5 million.
More of them are around these days, too, even as production volumes remain low. Last year, Ferrari reported record annual sales of more than 13,700 vehicles delivered globally encompassing six main models, plus multiple special editions. In 1995, it offered just four models, including the iconic F50. Porsche makes more than 20 variants of its 911 sports car alone and delivered more than 50,000 of them globally in 2024.
Propelling the demand are all the things that get these cars criticized: Extreme styling, outlandish colors, disruptive engine noise and raw speeds.
“It’s not about how people react to the supercar — it’s about how you feel driving the supercar,” says Ron Sturgeon, a Dallas entrepreneur who brought his Bugatti Veyron to Vegas. A longtime collector, Sturgeon is not in the under-40 set, but he embraces the newcomers who he says pervade the rallies. “We need to be attracting these younger people,” he says.
Supercars are the unobtanium of the car world: Getting one requires nurturing a friendly relationship with a dealer. The more hate these cars get — as gas-guzzling markers of poor taste and unchecked excess — the more these fans love them. They celebrat them as expressions of individuality, freedom, engineering, beauty and personal success. It’s worth noting that more than a few of these enthusiasts are self-made. It took 10 years for Morris to save enough of his earnings from creating gaming videos before he could afford his car.