The new MINI and Miley Cyrus are more alike than you might think

THE new MINI and the singing brat from the Disney Channel, Miley Cyrus, have more in common than you might think.

Connoisseurs of pop culture might have raised an eyebrow when the Hannah Montana star strode confidently onto the stage at the MTV Video Awards, dressed in a skin-coloured bikini, and proceeded to treat the entire world to the most cringeworthy four minutes of television yet devised. Yes, Miss Montana’s sold millions of MP3s and singlehandedly invented something called ‘twirking’ as a result, but the world has been left a poorer place in her wake.

All of which leads me nicely to the third generation MINI. Which, like Miley, will be a storming sales success but never be quite as fondly as remembered as what went before.

It’s a debate BMW – the MINI’s German masters, don’t forget – have prompted themselves, by picturing the 2014 model next to not only its 2006 and 2001 predecessors, but also the brilliant, Alec Issigonis-penned original of 1959 vintage. While it’s bordering on the cliché to point out how much bigger the modern MINIs are compared to the 1959 car, it’s entirely fair game to point out that the latest version is bloated compared to even its Noughties predecessors, being longer, wider and taller. It’s also not especially pretty either, considering how much – and I admit it grudgingly, as a classic Mini fan – I like the lines of the 2001 MINI.

The 2014 offering might well be fantastically good fun to drive or unflinchingly reliable – in the same way Miley might make a mean cup of tea or be a dab hand at Scrabble – but compared to what’s been before it’s an opportunity for something innovative and exciting missed in a bid to hit the top of the charts. The new MINI, like the new Miley, could have offered us something genuinely interesting that moves the game on, but what we’ve got is more of the same, just a bit uglier.

Personally, I prefer my small cars to be a bit more like Lily Allen, with a bit more beauty and intellectual depth thrown in. The revised Citroen C1, in other words.

Fire up the... Kia Picanto 1.0

KIA'S city car contender, for all its snazzy styling, is all about the numbers. Three or five doors, seven years of warranty, 67 claimed miles to every gallon and yours for a shade under eight grand.

There is, however, one figure in particular that defines this 1.0 litre, entry level twist on the pretty Picanto; the three cylinders you get under the bonnet. It makes an interesting, offbeat throb when you put your foot down, which is infinitely nicer, to my mind at least, than the 2CV-esque rattle you get from Fiat's TwinAir offerings. The only problem is you'll be doing that a lot, because this emphatically not a fast car.

The 1.0 litre triple, great though it sounds, really makes a meal out of moving you about, forcing you to hunt through the rev range to get the best out of it. That, in turn, ruins the real world fuel economy, and the owner of the particular car I borrowed struggles, despite his best efforts, to better 40 to the gallon around town. Weirdly, it reminds me of the Mini 1000 I had as my first car - it actually did less to the gallon than the 1.3 that replaced it simply because you had to work it harder. I reckon you can pull of the same trick with the Picanto; be smart, save up and go for the extra oomph of the 1.2 litre, four-cylinder version.

The rest of the Picanto package, however, fares rather better. It looks great, it's cheap, both to buy and run, the seven year warranty is something Kia - quite rightly - are particularly proud of, and on the inside it feels substantial in a way neither the Panda nor the Aygo/C1/107 triplets manage. All of which brings me to what I reckon is the Picanto's biggest flaw. If, like me, you're a little larger of frame, you'll find your elbows brushing the doors as you drive along, and that's something I haven't encountered in any of the other city car contenders.

Nor is it especially exciting to drive. There's nothing wrong with the way the Picanto goes, stops and handles - engine aside - the steering's too light and lacking in feel. Great for its natural habitat of congested city centres, but take it anywhere more challenging and you'll be craving the feedback you get from most of its rivals.

The Picanto's pertly styled, generous on both price and warranty and miles better than the company's previous entry-level offerings, but my money would still be on a Fiat Panda, Toyota Aygo or VW Up, all of which offer a more engaging small car experience for not much more.

This little Kia's got some great numbers on offer, but for me they just don't add up.

A motoring idea you'll warm to in this winter weather

HERE'S an idea you'll warm to. Why don't we fit cars with proper boilers and thermostats?

T'was a cold and frosty morning when the thought struck me. Faced with needing to take a car rather than the bus into work, I unlocked the garage and started up a stone cold Mazda MX-5 which immediately fogged up the moment I dared to exhale breath while sat inside. I was one of the lucky ones; elsewhere, the good people of Southport were scraping the ice of their windscreens.

Here's the rub. Almost every car I've driven on a cold morning, even shiny brand new ones, still require the efforts of some cheap de-icer before you can set off, and then a good few minutes before the icy chill of winter leaves the interior. Nor can you do the old trick of warming the car up while you sit indoors with a cuppa - not only is it illegal, but you might as well stick a sign on your pride ‘n' joy with “STEAL ME” writ large all over it.

With the exception of a wonderful January weekend in Wales, when I donned gloves and a woolly hat so I could enjoy the crisp mountain air in the MX-5 with the roof down, driving first thing in the morning at this time of year is no fun. Unless of course, you run a recently-made Range Rover. A car which comes with a little gas heater and a time-adjustable thermostat, just like your house does.

In the same way I've always wondered why houses aren't fitted with electric windows, it perplexes me why proper thermostats which you can preset to come on when you want - which have been around for ages - don't come as standard on more cars. If you know you're going to setting off at eight every morning, wouldn't it be great to preset a proper heating system to come on fifteen minutes earlier, so your pride and joy is all toasty once you step inside and the engine isn't having to cough into life at minus four?

Don't get me wrong - there's all sorts of aftermarket preheating systems you can fit to your motor - but I'm just amazed the car industry at large didn't cotton onto the whole winter-is-cold thing years ago.

It's one motoring gadget you wouldn't give a frosty reception.