Road Test: Audi A3 2.0 T FSI S Line 2dr

The Audi A3 Cabriolet is, like all the decapitated strains of tiresomely mass-produced commuting fodder, essentially instantly thought of as a spousal arouser, a second car with added glitz.

You buy one when you can't afford the flashier, bigger A4 Cab/BMW 3-series CC and can't have a sport scar because your life still surrounds itself with dull, grown-up practicalities that you just can't shake. You want to feel like you haven't surrendered, so you settle for something just a little risque.

But that's just the kind of assumption that the A3 Cabrio takes great glee in dismantling from a variety of different angles. It might have the faint whiff of white-gold ankle chain, but the reality is that if you dismiss this car based on the fact that Essex tanning salon car parks will be frothing with them, then you'd be missing out on the best car in the class. After all, ubiquity does not a bad car make. Just ask Mini.

Still my personal sales forecast needs some justification because, roof up, it's not the best-looking hunchback of the common crop of attainable cabriolets, and you'll probably want to deduct some initial points for the appearance of fabric when VW's Eos and Ford's Focus CC can manage a hard folding carapace, but there are advantages to that hood that we'll come to later.

First of all though, it's wise to make the rather obvious point that this is an Audi - Audis are affordable and generally respectably cool, a bit like a Next cashmere jumper. And let's face it, when it comes down to keeping-up-with-the-Joneses baiting, it's better than saying you've just plumped for a open-air Focus, no matter how clever and rigid the roof.

Secondly, even though some of the interior plastics aren't quite up to scratch (or, rather, they are), the interior feels as solid, restrained and unlikely to annoy as any other part of the A3 family.

There's the usual huge C-pillar blind spot with the roof up that plagues any cabrio, so parking sensors are probably a bumper-saving option, and it looks better on big wheels. The seats are well-proportioned - though the pedals are stupidly offset in the left-hand drive version - there's some nice detail stitching on the 'S-Line' versions, and you could happily throw a couple of close friends in the back for a short journey.

So far, so predictable. Not so fast though, because once you start prodding and pushing, the A3 Cab really comes to life. The party piece is really the roof, and when we live in a resolutely wet country like the UK, whose only benefit from global warming is to be marginally more prone to spectacular flooding, that's a big deal.

For a start, you're looking at the sprinter of the open-roof world. The fully automatic hood (semi-auto version in the basic models) drops the overhead carpet in just nine seconds, up to a maximum speed of roughly 19mph.

What this means is that dropping the top isn't just touch of a button, but a realistic traffic light endeavour. Even if the lights do change, by the time you've cruised away, the roof is secure and stowed flush with the haunch of the car, in the same way as the brilliant TT or the Boxster.

It stows in a kind of complicated 'Z' hinge, so that the furthest panel - the one that attaches to the windscreen header rail - sits on top of the bootlid. It's rigid like the TT's, so it doesn't flap and doesn't expose any crappy hinges or split roof rails. Neat. Fast and neat. Fast and neat and not embarrassing.

Once down, the A3 looks stylish, a little bit like a stumpy A4 Cabriolet. It certainly doesn't have that horribly chainsawed look that marked out the convertible hatchback a few years ago, and avoids the elongated arse of most Coupe Cabrios that need to provide enough bootspace to store a large metal roof panel.

It looks remarkably good in white, which is not the sort of thing I was expecting to hear, this side of a Sergio Tacchini convention, unless accompanied by the heavy clack of a gold sovereign against the stock of a sawn-off shotgun nestling in my ear. I know white is supposed to be cool, but I thought that only counted in supercars; humdrum kit generally just looks like you bought it cheap.

Driving it feels light and relatively precise. The body is 54 per cent steel, with subframes and other sundries made of aluminium, but the way the car is reinforced strategically, rather than just fattened up, makes all the difference to the driving experience.

The 200bhp, 2.0-litre TFSI is revvy and lag-free, there's very little wobble despite the extended sunshine top and the six-speed manual gearbox (there's 'S-Tronic' dual clutch if you want it) works like all Audi/VW 'boxes - well enough that you simply don't notice it.

Poling around in the sunshine, it makes a lot of sense and actually ends up being proper fun. If it starts to rain, up comes the top, and you've got an acoustically sorted bubble that doesn't really change the handling balance - try that when you move upwards of 40/50kgs around the C-of-G in a coupe cabrio.

There'll be four engines; two TDi's (a 1.9 with 105bhp and a 2.0-litre with 140) and a pair of petrol TFSI units (a 1.8 with 160bhp and a 200bhp 2.0-litre). Either of the 2.0-litres does an admirable job, though there's something slightly nicer about having a quiet petrol buzzing away up front. Just seems to suit better.

So don't buy an A3 Cabriolet because you think it's going to make people think you're a bit ker-a-zee. Don't think that it will make you look 'on trend', über-fashionable or - God forbid - young. If this is as unruly as you're likely to get this year, then you're currently undergoing the korma of mid-life crisis, the milky latte of moneyed rebellion.

Do buy it if you want an exceptionally well sorted small cabrio that makes everything else look a bit fussy and try-hard. Do buy it if you want a driving experience that isn't sullied constantly by the dynamic hamstring of a folding hardtop. Do buy it if you want a car that doesn't make it look like this is as close to flash as you could afford.

Because the Audi A3 Cabrio has managed to shake off the starter-convertible feel that makes the competition look dull. And it's also the first time I've looked good topless in years.