Back in 2014, over a quiet lunch in Paris, then-CEO Carlos Tavares offered a remarkably candid assessment of his newly emancipated DS brand. “Today DS is far away from the likes of Audi, but you need to start the dream,” he said. Competing with the Germans on their own turf, he argued, was a fool’s errand. Instead, DS would bottle the “French touch”—sophistication, couture-level flare, and that indefinable je ne sais quoi that lures British tourists across the Channel.

It was a compelling pitch. With Chanel, Louis Vuitton, and Hermès dominating the world of luxury goods, why couldn’t France carve out a similar niche in premium automobiles? Avant-garde design, comfort over outright performance, and a level of service the Germans couldn’t match—that was the promise.

Fast-forward to 2025, and DS isn’t exactly giving those Germans insomnia.

The brand is now on its fourth CEO in ten years, registrations are down 21 percent year-to-date, and DS has never once broken the 50,000-unit barrier in Europe. China—once a major pillar of the strategy—has abandoned foreign luxury EVs in favor of domestic heroes.

Enter Xavier Peugeot, the new boss and a member of the founding Peugeot family. He’s tasked with turning DS from a stylish curiosity into a sustainable premium player—with a fraction of the firepower that Cupra, Volvo, or even Lexus can bring to bear.

The New DS, Chapter Two

The centerpiece of DS’s reboot is the new No.8, a pure-electric flagship crossover pitched as the brand’s long-overdue halo car. It sits atop a newly refreshed lineup that includes the No.4 (a facelifted DS 4) and a successor to the DS 7 arriving next year. The new naming scheme—No.4, No.8—borrows more from French fragrance bottles than German alphanumerics. That’s the point.

“There is a momentum,” Peugeot insists, speaking to investors at the British Motor Museum. Three launches in 18 months don’t sound like much unless you’re DS, which hasn’t released an all-new model since 2021. The delays are glaring: the pure-electric DS 4, for instance, arrives more than a year late.

Still, Peugeot is bullish. “DS is a profitable brand,” he says, rejecting rumors that Stellantis—now minus Tavares—might shutter an underperformer in a crowded stable of 14 marques. With premium cars representing 40 percent of Europe’s profits, Stellantis is reluctant to abandon its only genuine upmarket play.

From Faux-Audi to French Flair

One thing DS finally seems to have nailed is design confidence.

The 2017 DS 7 Crossback tried to mimic Audi—an odd choice for a brand built on French identity. It dressed like Ingolstadt, only softer around the edges, with creative interiors that felt fragile and drivetrains that rarely inspired.

The new No.8 is different. Bold, lit-from-within grille. Optional two-tone hood. Smooth, modernist surfaces. A roofline that slips away like a concept car’s. And for once, the interior quality lives up to the avant-garde promise. Reviews call the ride comfort “exceptional” and the cabin “brilliant.”

It took a decade, but DS finally delivered something genuinely distinctive.

Range? DS claims 465 miles, enough to cruise from Birmingham to Edinburgh without a recharge. In today’s EV market, that matters.

The Real Problem: Visibility

DS’s European sales are minuscule—Alfa Romeo and Lexus each outsell it more than two-to-one. Dealer coverage is thin. Awareness is weaker still. Even in the UK, DS retailers registered just 1,152 cars in 2024.

“We’ve got a job to do in breaking through,” admits UK boss Jules Tilstone. Low residual values have also crippled lease competitiveness—something the No.8 aims to fix with “class-leading” used projections.

The challenge isn’t simply being premium. It’s being relevant.

Cupra: The Comparison DS Doesn’t Want

If you want a masterclass in brand building, look at Cupra.

In 2020, the fledgling Spaniards sold a third of DS’s volume. Four years later, they sell six times more. Why? Product. Positioning. Momentum.

The Cupra Formentor hit the heart of Europe’s market: mid-size, sporty-ish crossover with a jacked-up wagon profile, matte paints, and copper accents. It looked different without being niche. It drove with intent. It appealed to buyers who wanted to feel youthful—even if they weren’t.

Cupra built an ecosystem: “City Garages” hosting gigs and DJ nights, a Barcelona FC connection, padel sponsorships, a sense of belonging. CEO Markus Haupt calls it a “tribe.” Customers call it cool.

DS, by contrast, has always aimed at traditional luxury—a harder hill to climb without heritage, or the engines to back it.

So… Can DS Make It?

Peugeot says DS’s best year—55,000 units—must become the floor, not the ceiling. He won’t commit to tripling sales; he jokes we’d call him crazy. But he stresses that DS is a “20–30-year story,” echoing Tavares’s decade-old mantra.

The next three years will matter more than the last ten.

The No.8 is the closest DS has come to a breakthrough car: stylish, comfortable, long-range, and properly French. It finally gives the brand a shot at the visibility it has lacked since launch.

But DS is still fighting in one of the most competitive arenas in the global auto market—against German titans, Chinese EV disruptors, and upstarts like Cupra that have mastered the art of cultural cool.

France knows how to make luxury. The question is whether enough people want that luxury on four wheels, wrapped in a silhouette they rarely see on the road.

DS dreams big. Now it needs customers who will dream with it.