If you want to buy a car, come and talk to me
For seventy years, France has dressed the world in elegance — yet on Irish roads, the luxury automobile has remained stubbornly German. DS Automobiles, born from one of the most revolutionary cars ever built, is attempting once more to rewrite that habit, arriving in 2026 with new electric models, a refined identity, and the quiet conviction that craftsmanship, given time, finds its audience. The numbers are humbling — 123 sales against BMW's 5,143 — but the brand's wager is that a small, devoted following is worth more than a large, indifferent one.
- DS faces not merely a market share deficit but a credibility gap — Irish buyers have spent decades trusting German engineering, and a decade of French effort has barely moved the needle.
- The launch of the all-electric DS No.8 and a repriced DS No.4 represents the brand's most forceful product push yet, directly targeting the entry and mid-luxury segments where Audi and BMW have long held unchallenged ground.
- A sluggish touchscreen, tight rear seats, and flashes of cheap plastic remind buyers that ambition and execution are not always the same thing — small compromises that loom large when German rivals offer near-flawless fit and finish.
- DS is repositioning itself as DS Automobiles, leaning into Parisian design heritage and fashion-world partnerships to build an identity around objects of desire rather than mere transport.
- The brand's own forecast — perhaps 1,000 annual sales once a third model arrives — signals a deliberate retreat into niche territory, betting that depth of loyalty can sustain what breadth of recognition cannot yet deliver.
France has long produced the world's finest luxuries, yet the Irish car buyer has historically looked past them toward German prestige. DS Automobiles, resurrected as a standalone brand in 2014 from the legendary 1955 Citroën DS, has spent a decade trying to change that instinct — with limited success. Last year, the brand sold 123 cars in Ireland against BMW's 5,143, a gap that speaks less to product quality than to the stubborn weight of established reputation.
Ireland brand manager Glin Donnelly frames the challenge plainly: DS isn't selling transportation, it's selling a relationship with an object. The company has pursued that narrative through fashion partnerships and cultural positioning, but recognition remains thin. Now, a new product offensive is underway. The DS No.4, repriced to €35,995 in well-equipped Pallas trim, competes credibly with entry-level German rivals and arguably outdesigns the BMW 1 Series. Its hybrid engine is smooth and frugal, though some interior plastics and tight rear space betray the cost pressures beneath the ambition.
The more significant statement is the DS No.8 — a fully electric SUV-coupe with a genuinely luxurious cabin, a propeller-inspired steering wheel, and Rolls-Royce styling cues that are impossible to ignore. At €56,495, it undercuts the Lexus RZ and outclasses Chinese competitors in feel and refinement. A standard 73kWh battery offers around 500 kilometres of real-world range; a larger 97kWh version arrives later in the year. The interface can be sluggish and physical controls are scarce, but the overall experience is quiet, comfortable, and distinctive. DS maintains a larger Paris-based design team than any other Stellantis brand, with a philosophy centred on texture and individual craft rather than engineering efficiency alone.
Donnelly is candid about the timeline. DS often invokes Audi's two-decade climb to premium status as a precedent, though that argument grows harder to sustain as Stellantis tightens its belt across the group. His ambition is modest but deliberate: roughly 1,000 Irish sales annually once a new DS No.7 SUV joins the range. Whether a niche that small can sustain a luxury brand against entrenched German dominance remains the question DS has yet to answer.
France makes the world's finest things—wine, fashion, perfume, food. Yet when the conversation turns to luxury automobiles, the Irish car buyer reaches instinctively for German steel. It's a peculiar blind spot, one that DS Automobiles has spent the last decade trying to correct.
DS began life as the Citroën DS in 1955, a car so revolutionary it became a design icon. The brand was resurrected as a standalone marque in 2014 with an explicit mission: to prove that French luxury could compete with the German establishment on four wheels. The numbers tell a sobering story. Last year, DS sold 123 cars in Ireland. BMW sold 5,143. The gap isn't a market share problem—it's a credibility chasm.
Glin Donnelly, the brand manager for DS in Ireland, understands the challenge. "If you just want something that gets you from A to B, there are plenty of other brands," he told The Irish Times. "If you want to buy a car, come and talk to me." The distinction matters to him. DS isn't selling transportation; it's selling a relationship with an object. The company has tried to build that narrative through partnerships—official cars for Ireland Fashion Week, collaborations with fashion figures—but brand recognition remains thin after a decade of operation.
The company's new strategy rests on three pillars: product, design philosophy, and patience. The Irish launch of the DS No.8, a fully electric SUV-coupe with unmistakable Rolls-Royce styling cues, marks the most ambitious push yet. The redesigned DS No.4 arrives at a more accessible price point—€35,995 in well-equipped Pallas trim, down from over €40,000 when it first launched three years ago. A new DS No.7 SUV will follow later this year and into 2027. The company itself has been rebranded from DS to DS Automobiles, a shift Donnelly believes emphasizes that these are cars first, mobility solutions second.
The No.4 is a competent machine. Its 145-horsepower hybrid petrol engine delivers decent power and frugality—around 6.0 litres per 100 kilometers in real-world driving. On the Irish motorway, it's smooth and refined, even pleasantly responsive through corners. The cabin is generally pleasant, though some cheap plastics betray cost-cutting measures, and rear-seat space is tight. For the price, it competes credibly with entry-level Audi A3 and BMW 1 Series models, and arguably looks more appealing than the BMW.
The No.8 is where DS makes its real statement. This all-electric SUV, available only as a battery-powered vehicle, arrives with a genuinely luxurious cabin. The four-spoke steering wheel, inspired by aircraft propellers, feels substantial in hand. The low, wide touchscreen sits recessed into the dashboard, creating visual interest, though the interface can be sluggish and the lack of physical controls frustrates. The base Pallas model carries a 73-kilowatt-hour battery, a 210-horsepower motor, and a claimed range of 550 kilometers—roughly 500 kilometers in real-world conditions. It's quiet, comfortable, and genuinely engaging on long drives. The larger 97-kilowatt-hour battery, arriving in late summer, offers 750 kilometers of claimed range. For most buyers, the standard version suffices. The top-spec Étoile model, with its optional black roof and bonnet contrasting the body color, amplifies the Rolls-Royce aesthetic and adds road-scanning adaptive suspension.
At €56,495, the No.8 undercuts the Lexus RZ and outperforms Chinese competitors like the Xpeng G6 in both luxury feel and driving experience. Donnelly claims DS financing rates and residual values match other Stellantis group brands—Peugeot, Citroën, Fiat, and Alfa Romeo—potentially addressing a significant consumer concern. DS remains unique within the Stellantis empire for maintaining a larger dedicated design staff, all based in Paris, where the emphasis falls on texture, materials, and individual craftsmanship over engineering efficiency.
The brand's official position has long been patient. DS often cites Audi's two-decade journey to premium status, suggesting similar timelines are reasonable. That argument wears thinner each year, particularly as Stellantis tightens costs across its portfolio. Donnelly insists he's content targeting a small, discerning corner of the market—perhaps 1,000 buyers annually once the No.7 arrives. Whether that niche proves large enough to sustain a luxury brand in a market dominated by German manufacturers remains the unanswered question.
Citas Notables
If you just want something that gets you from A to B, there are plenty of other brands. If you want to buy a car, come and talk to me.— Glin Donnelly, DS brand manager
It's a car, it's not just a mobility solution. It's about a love affair with the car. It's not about the efficiencies of CAD design; it's about an individual human doing the design work.— Glin Donnelly, DS brand manager
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does a French luxury car feel like such a hard sell in Ireland, when France dominates so many other luxury categories?
It's partly habit and partly perception. German brands spent decades building a reputation for solidity and engineering that's become almost unshakeable, even if the reality doesn't always match the image. French cars, by contrast, carry a different cultural weight—they're seen as quirky, unreliable, or just not serious about luxury the way Germans are.
But DS has been around for a decade now. Why hasn't that perception shifted?
A decade sounds long, but it's nothing in automotive terms. Audi took 20 years to become truly premium. DS is still building from almost zero brand awareness. Most Irish buyers don't even know the brand exists, let alone what it stands for.
The numbers are brutal—123 cars versus BMW's 5,143. Is there any realistic path to closing that gap?
Not by chasing BMW's volume. DS isn't trying to. They're targeting a smaller, more design-conscious buyer who values craftsmanship and individuality over badge prestige. The question is whether that market exists in Ireland in meaningful numbers.
What makes the new cars different from what DS was selling before?
The No.8 is genuinely luxurious—the cabin feels thoughtful, the driving experience is engaging. The No.4 is now affordable enough to compete with entry-level Germans. But luxury is as much about perception as product. A beautiful car doesn't sell itself if nobody knows it exists.
Does Donnelly seem confident they can pull this off?
He seems genuinely patient, almost philosophically so. He compares it to building a good restaurant—it takes time for people to experience it, trust it, come back. But patience is a luxury a struggling brand might not have, especially with Stellantis cutting costs everywhere.