What is it that fascinates us so much about classic cars? Is it the craftsmanship? Or perhaps it is something more difficult to explain — a sense of nostalgia, a connection to stories and moments we never even experienced ourselves.
For Alex Manos, founder of the famous Beverly Hills Car Club, that fascination has shaped an entire lifetime. “Looking back, it did not feel like I was building a company at the time. It felt more like something with a bigger vision.” .”
More than twenty years after buying and selling his first cars, Alex has become one of the most recognizable figures in the world of classic automobiles. Yet speaking with him, it quickly becomes clear that this story is not really about cars alone. It is about instinct, patience, history, and the human stories attached to the objects we choose to preserve.
In our conversation, he reflects on the journey from a childhood fascination to building Beverly Hills Car Club, the lessons learned along the way, and why some cars become far more than machines — they become keepers of memory.
Interview and photography by Christopher Brown
Alex, can you introduce yourself—your name, where you’re from—and what your life looked like before starting Beverly Hills Car Club?
My name is Alex Manos. I was born in London and lived there until I was about eight years old before moving to Los Angeles, which I now consider home. Growing up between those two environments had a lasting impact on me. London has a strong sense of history, character, and depth, while Los Angeles is driven by energy, scale, and opportunity. I think that contrast shaped how I see things, especially when it comes to recognizing value and potential that may not be obvious at first glance.
Before starting Beverly Hills Car Club, my life was centered around learning through experience. I was already buying and selling cars, not in a formal or structured way, but consistently enough to understand how the market moved. It was very hands on. There was no clear blueprint, no long term strategy mapped out. It was built through repetition, observation, and a willingness to stay engaged day after day.
What I was really developing during that time was instinct. Learning how to evaluate a car quickly, how to read people, how to navigate conversations, and how to make decisions with confidence. It was not polished, but it was real, and it created a foundation that could not be taught in a traditional way. Looking back, it did not feel like I was building a company at the time. It felt more like something with a bigger vision.” Over time, that turned into something much larger, but it started with simply staying consistent, staying curious, and continuing to move forward without overcomplicating it.
What do you love most about the work you do today?
What I value most is that no two days are ever the same. Even after seeing thousands of cars, there is always an element of discovery. Every car has a different story, a different past, and a different path that led it to you. There is something very grounding about working with tangible objects that carry history. In a world that is becoming more digital and less connected to physical craftsmanship, these cars represent something real. You can see the design, feel the engineering, and understand the time and thought that went into them. They are not just products, they are artifacts of a certain era.
Beyond the cars, what I appreciate most is the human side of the business. You are constantly interacting with people from all over the world, collectors, families, individuals who have owned a car for decades, or those who are searching for something meaningful. Every interaction is different, and that keeps the work engaging. Over time, you realize you are not just buying and selling cars. You are part of a larger process. You are helping transition something from one chapter of its life to the next. That responsibility, and the trust that comes with it, is something I do not take lightly.
“You are not just looking at a car, you are looking at time itself.”
Has building Beverly Hills Car Club changed who you are as a person?
It has, but not in a dramatic or overnight way. It has been a gradual process of refinement more than a complete transformation.
Over time, you develop a stronger sense of discipline and perspective. You learn how to stay steady, how to make decisions without reacting emotionally, and how to handle both growth and challenges with the same level of focus. That consistency becomes more important than any single moment of success.
It also shifts how you think about time. Early on, you are focused on what is right in front of you, the next deal, the next opportunity. As the business grows, your mindset becomes more long term. You start thinking in years and decades, about reputation, about consistency, and about building something that holds its value over time. I would say it has made me more intentional. More aware of where I put my energy, more focused on what actually matters, and more disciplined in how I approach both business and life. It does not change who you are at your core, but it sharpens how you operate every day.
You’ve seen thousands of cars over the years—how would you describe your taste, and how has it evolved?
In the beginning, my taste was more reactive. I was drawn to what stood out immediately, what the market was excited about, what felt obviously desirable.
Over time, that changed. Exposure brings clarity. When you have seen enough, you start to look beyond surface appeal and focus more on what gives something lasting value. I developed a deeper appreciation for originality, for proportions, for the integrity of the design and how true a car remains to what it was when it left the factory.
Today, I am drawn to cars that feel honest. That could be a well preserved example that shows its age in the right way, or a car that represents an important moment in automotive history. It is less about how loud or attention grabbing something is, and more about how well it holds up over time.
I think real taste becomes quieter as it evolves. You become less influenced by trends and more focused on what endures. The cars that stay with you are not always the most obvious ones, but the ones that have a certain balance, presence, and authenticity that does not fade.
“What I value most is that no two days are ever the same.”
Looking back, what’s one decision that felt like a real risk at the time—but ended up shaping your success?
One of the biggest turning points was deciding to fully commit to scale. Expanding inventory, taking on larger spaces, and building the infrastructure to support a much bigger operation required a level of risk that was not theoretical. It was real, both financially and operationally. At the time, it meant stepping beyond what I had already proven and taking on a level of responsibility that forces you to grow quickly. There is always a moment where you have to decide whether you stay within what feels controlled or move into something that requires a different level of thinking and execution.
That decision changed everything. It pushed me to build a stronger team, implement better systems, and operate with more structure and discipline. It also repositioned the business. Instead of operating at a smaller, transactional level, it became something with real presence, depth, and global reach. Looking back, it was not about taking risk for the sake of it. It was about recognizing when the opportunity required a bigger commitment and having the willingness to follow through. That shift is what allowed everything else to grow from there.
Is there one car that stands out to you—something with a story you’ll never forget?
There have been many, but one that stands out to me personally is a 1956 Mercedes 300SL Gullwing that I own.
It had just two owners from new, with the same owner since 1959. At a certain point, it was parked in his garage and remained there untouched for over four decades. In 2013, I was able to acquire the car in California, and it has remained in my private collection ever since. What makes that car meaningful to me is not just what it is, but the life it lived before I ever saw it. It represents a different era, not just in design and engineering, but in how people held onto things. There was no urgency to sell, no constant movement. It simply stayed with its owner for most of his life. That kind of history is very rare. When you come across something like that, you are not just looking at a car, you are looking at time itself. Being able to preserve that and keep it intact is something I value, which is why it is not for sale.
Moments like that remind me that this business goes far beyond transactions. It is about recognizing significance, understanding context, and knowing when something deserves to be held onto rather than moved.
“At the end of the day, it is about creating moments that stay with people.”
When people look back at what you’ve built 20 or 30 years from now, what do you hope they say about it?
I would want it to be seen as something that was built with consistency and held its standard over time, but more importantly, something that had a real impact on people.
Recently, a friend of mine bought a 1965 Ford Mustang convertible, and I helped him through the process. He told me that the night he brought it home, he could not even sleep because he was so excited to drive it the next day. He said it brought him a level of joy he had not felt in a long time.
That stayed with me, because it is easy to get caught up in the day to day of running a business and forget what these cars actually represent to people. They are not just objects. For many, they are an escape, a reward, or something that reconnects them to a certain feeling.
When I think about that on a larger scale, I realize that over the years we have helped thousands of people experience that same kind of excitement and fulfillment. That is something I take seriously. So if people look back and say that Beverly Hills Car Club was not just a place to buy cars, but a place that consistently delivered something meaningful, something that people connected with and remembered, that would mean a lot.
At the end of the day, it is about more than transactions. It is about creating moments that stay with people, even in a simple way, like taking a car around the block and coming back feeling different than when you left.
What’s next for you—personally or professionally? What are you looking to cultivate more of in your life right now?
At this stage, it is less about chasing something entirely new and more about refining what has already been built. Professionally, I am focused on continuing to strengthen and scale Beverly Hills Car Club in a thoughtful way. Improving operations, building the right team, and expanding our reach while maintaining the standard that has gotten us here. Growth is important, but it has to be controlled and sustainable. I am also spending more time thinking about the long term structure of what I am building, particularly in real estate and creating a foundation that supports the business for decades to come. That kind of stability allows everything else to operate at a higher level.
On a personal level, I am focused on being more intentional with my time. As things grow, it becomes more important to protect your energy, stay clear in your thinking, and not lose perspective. I am also making a conscious effort to stay connected to the parts of the business that I enjoy most, the cars themselves, the people, and the process of discovery. It is easy to get pulled into pure operations, but maintaining that connection is important to me.
Overall, I would say the focus now is on precision. Doing things at a higher level, with more clarity, more discipline, and a deeper understanding of what truly matters over the long term.
