In a world full of oversaturated parking-lot car meets and repurposed mall shows, Curated by Trick Factory Customs redefined what a custom car event could be.
Held at the Rocky Mountaineer Station in Vancouver, the venue itself was part of the experience鈥攁n old railway building with exposed brick, timber rafters, tall windows, and natural light that poured in just right. It had the bones of a working space and the polish of a proper venue. Raw, yet refined. The kind of place that made sense for the builders who showed up and the machines that filled the space.
Curated wasn鈥檛 just a car show鈥攊t was a deliberate, focused event. Roughly twenty vehicles were selected by invitation only, each one chosen for a reason. No filler. No fluff. And no random registrations.
Among the highlights was a fully rebuilt 1928 Bentley 4陆-Litre Blower, a supercharged pre-war beast that blended heritage with modern fabrication. Built to run, not sit, the Bentley featured functioning period-style hardware mixed with clever 3D-printed touches of parts that are no longer in existence to make a perfect, period correct rebuild.
Other vehicles filled out the room with everything from vintage Italian design to full-bore modern aggression. A Ferrari Dino, a Maserati Ghibli, and a rare (1 of 3) factory black Ferrari F40 held the vintage line, while a C8 Spyker, an RWB Porsche, and Trick Factory鈥檚 own Evil Evo pushed into heavier modern territory. Flat Six Productions brought a strong Safari Porsche showing with subtle, clean execution but appeared itching to run the next DAKAR event.
One of the more unexpected builds was a green Toyota Tercel鈥攏ot a nostalgia piece or quirky addition, but a fully sorted, purpose-built time attack machine. Swapped with a Honda S2000 engine and fitted with aggressive aero, it blended vintage roots with modern engineering. It didn鈥檛 try to steal the show鈥攂ut it quietly reminded everyone that function, form, and attitude can come from the most unassuming platforms.
Several in-progress builds stood right beside the finished cars, stripped to metal and showing their welds or meticulously hand laid carbon fiber. That honesty鈥攍etting people see the process, not just the polish鈥攚as one of the show鈥檚 strongest distinctions.
There were no trophies. No VIP wristbands. No vendor booth segregation. Curated broke the standard format and rebuilt it around conversation, process, and mutual respect. It wasn鈥檛 about who had the most expensive build鈥攊t was about who showed up with intent.
At the center of the event was a builder panel, where creators stepped up to share how their projects came together. They covered everything from fabrication timelines to 3D printing, foam prototyping, and workflow. Attendees got real insights鈥攁ctual takeaways鈥攏ot canned social media talk. It gave the show a core of substance that matched the visuals on the floor.
The DJ played a balanced, low-tempo set that created mood without overtaking the room. A full bar, food trucks, and lounge zones gave people places to stay, not just pass through. The crowd mixed freely鈥攂uilders, collectors, photographers, media, and fans all in the same open layout.
And most importantly, people stayed. No one was rushing. There were conversations in every corner. Builders answered real questions. New connections were made without the usual noise of ego or posturing.
Curated reflected the shop that created it. Trick Factory Customs鈥攔un by Tim Lajambe and Rob Mosser鈥攊s known for fabrication-first builds and sharp, deliberate execution. The show was an extension of that mindset. From layout to curation to culture, every piece of it was intentional.
It wasn鈥檛 just about the cars, though there were plenty to remember. It was about the experience鈥攆luid, grounded, and real. From the 1928 Bentley to the S2000-swapped Tercel, from high-dollar metal to mid-build welds, from lounge corners to panel talks鈥擟urated created a space that felt different. Because it was.
This wasn鈥檛 a car show built to follow the scene. It was built to set the tone.
And it did.
