When you decide to install an F1 simulator in your home it stops being about gaming and starts being about architecture.
To answer the question straight away, an F1 simulator becomes a statement piece when the engineering quality matches the interior design, transforming from a plastic toy into a carbon-fiber installation that dominates the space through sheer physical presence and high-fidelity feedback.

It is about taking a 1900mm by 1200mm footprint and filling it with something that looks fast even when it is standing still. You aren’t just buying a screen and a wheel. You are buying a slice of the grid that demands to be looked at.
I have seen enough high-end homes to know the difference between a hobby and an obsession. A true statement piece doesn’t hide in the basement or a spare bedroom. It sits in the main living space. It challenges the room.
Why simulators are the new grand piano
I used to walk into expensive homes and see a Steinway in the corner. It was the standard move. Nobody played it. It just sat there gathering dust and looking expensive. That was the default symbol of culture and wealth for a long time. But things shift. The people I talk to now, guys in their 30s and 40s who grew up watching Schumacher or Senna, they don’t want a piano. They want an F1 simulator.
It makes sense if you think about it. A piano is passive for most people. A simulator is active. It is visceral. When you have a rig that costs as much as a luxury sedan sitting in your library or media room, it says something about what you value. It says you value precision. It says you value adrenaline. It is a kinetic sculpture that you can actually use.
But it is risky. Put a cheap plastic rig in a beautiful room & it looks terrible. It looks like a dorm room setup. To pull this off, the hardware has to be art. It needs curves. It needs powder-coated aluminum and real leather. It needs to look like it belongs in a gallery.
I think that is where the disconnect happens for a lot of people. They look at the tech specs but forget the aesthetic. If you are going to give up twenty square feet of prime floor space, the thing better look incredible from every angle. It needs to look expensive because it is expensive.
And let’s be honest. It is a lot more fun to show guests a lap around Monaco than to play “Chopsticks” badly on a piano you don’t know how to use.
The engineering behind the luxury
Let’s get technical for a minute because the looks mean nothing if the drive is trash. The heart of any serious F1 simulator is the force feedback. We aren’t talking about a little vibration here. We are talking about torque that can rip the wheel out of your hands if you aren’t paying attention.
The industry standard for this level of kit is the Leo Bodnar SimSteering system. If a spec sheet doesn’t mention Bodnar or something equivalent, I usually walk away. You get about 26Nm of torque. To put that in perspective, your road car probably gives you a fraction of that feedback. The resolution is insane too. Something like 2 million points of resolution per turn. You feel the grain of the asphalt. You feel the tire walls flexing.
Then you have the pedals. I can’t stand mushy pedals. A real race car requires force. We are talking hydraulic systems here. The Cool Performance setups often use AP Racing master cylinders. These are the same cylinders you find in actual race cars. You need to be able to stomp on that brake with 200kg of force. It is a workout. It isn’t a game.
And don’t forget the PC. You can’t run high fidelity sims on a laptop. You need a water-cooled beast. Usually an Intel Core i9 paired with something massive like an NVIDIA RTX 5080. It has to push millions of pixels to those ultrawide screens without dropping a single frame. If it stutters, the illusion breaks immediately.
This is where the money goes. It goes into the things you can’t see until you turn the key. Or press the power button.
Aesthetics that demand attention
I mentioned earlier that this has to be sculpture. The frame is everything. Most basic rigs are just extruded aluminum profile. It looks like an industrial shelving unit. Functional? Yes. Ugly? Absolutely. You don’t put industrial shelving in a penthouse.
A statement piece uses custom fabrication. You want a chassis that mimics the seating position of a Formula 1 car. Your feet should be high, almost at eye level. The frame should be sleek, often powder-coated in a specific color to match the room or your favorite team livery. The lines need to flow.
Carbon fiber is the material of choice here. Not the fake vinyl wrap stuff. Real, structural carbon fiber. It catches the light in a specific way. It screams money, sure, but it also screams performance. When you see a cockpit that is a 1:1 replica of a single-seater tub, it changes the energy of the room.
I have seen setups where the owner matched the leather stitching on the seat to the stitching on their sofa. That is the level of detail we are dealing with. It is excessive. But that is the point. If you are going to do it, you might as well go all the way.
It has to look fast sitting still. That is the rule.
Motion systems and feeling the road
Static rigs are fine. They do the job. But if you want the ultimate experience, you need motion. This is where it gets tricky because bad motion is worse than no motion. It makes you sick. It feels like a boat.
The gold standard right now is D-BOX. They make these actuators that sit on the corners of the rig. It is usually a 3DoF system. That stands for Three Degrees of Freedom. Pitch, roll, and heave. It doesn’t swing you around like a carnival ride. It is subtle. It is precise.
When you run over a curb, the whole rig jolts. When you brake hard, the nose dips. It is about cues. Your brain needs those physical cues to believe the speed. Without them, you are just watching TV. With them, you are fighting for grip.
There is also tactile feedback. Transducers bolted to the seat and pedals. They vibrate at specific frequencies to mimic engine RPM or road texture. It sounds like a gimmick until you try it. Then you realize you can’t drive without it. You feel the car losing grip through your backside before you see it on the screen.
Sometimes it is hard to accomodate all this hardware without making the rig look bulky. That is the challenge. Hiding the actuators and the cables is an art form in itself. You don’t want to see the magic trick. You just want to feel it.
It is expensive tech. But if you are building a room around this thing, you don’t skimp on the motion. It is the difference between watching a race and being in one.
The Cool Performance factor
I have to mention the Cool Performance Formula Pro here. I’m not on their payroll, but if you research high-end simulators, their name keeps popping up. They have positioned themselves well in this niche.
What they do well is integration. They take those high-end components I mentioned, the Leo Bodnar steering, the hydraulic pedals, and package them in something that looks finished. A lot of high-end rigs look like science experiments. Wires everywhere. Exposed bolts. The Formula Pro looks like a product.
They offer this thing with a lifetime warranty on the frame, which is nice, though I doubt you’ll break a powder-coated aluminum chassis unless you attack it with a sledgehammer. They also use these massive Samsung Odyssey G9 screens or triple 55-inch Arks. The visual wrap-around is intense.
Is it the only option? No. But it is the one that seems to understand that the buyer isn’t just a gamer. They are a collector. They want bespoke paint. They want their name on the side. Cool Performance caters to that ego. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. We all have egos.
They also have a GT Pro model if you prefer a more upright seating position, but for the pure statement factor, the low-slung F1 position is harder to beat visually. It just looks more aggressive.
It sits low. It looks mean. It works.
Setting up the perfect room
So you bought the rig. Now where do you put it? This is where people mess up. You can’t just shove an F1 simulator in the corner next to the bookshelf. It needs space to breathe.
Lighting is crucial. You don’t want glare on the screens. But you also don’t want a pitch-black room. Indirect LED lighting works best. Maybe some Hue strips that change color based on the RPM or the flag status in the game. That might be a bit tacky for some, but I think it adds to the immersion.
Sound is another issue. These things are loud. The gear shifts click. The motion system hums and thuds. If you have thin walls, your family is going to hate you. You need soundproofing or a very good headset. Most of these high-end rigs come with integrated surround sound, but I prefer headphones for the focus.
Flooring matters too. You can’t put a motion rig on a deep pile carpet. It will wobble. You need a solid floor. Concrete or hardwood is best. If you have carpet, you might need a dedicated platform.
I have seen people build entire glass boxes for their sims. Like a trophy case you can sit inside. It keeps the noise in and looks spectacular. That is the level we are aiming for here.
Don’t treat it like a computer. Treat it like a car.
Is it actually good for training?
A lot of people ask if this is just a toy. The answer is no. Professional drivers use these systems. Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, they all have rigs at home. They aren’t doing it just for fun. They are doing it to keep their reflexes sharp.
The software has evolved. We aren’t playing Mario Kart. We are running Assetto Corsa Pro or iRacing or custom software like CP-S. The physics engines are calculating tire temperatures, track surface evolution, and aerodynamic load in real time.
When you use a rig like the Cool Performance Formula Pro, you are building muscle memory. The brake pressure is real. The steering weight is real. You can learn a track before you ever set foot on it in real life.
I know a guy who bought a simulator to prepare for a track day at Spa. He did a thousand laps in the sim. When he got to the real track, he was up to speed in three laps. It works. It saves you money on tires and track time in the long run.
But let’s not kid ourselves. Most of us aren’t F1 drivers. We are just enthusiasts who want to feel a fraction of what they feel. And that is okay. It is still a valid reason to buy one.
It is the closest most of us will ever get to the real thing.
The cost of total immersion
We have to talk about price. You can’t build a statement piece on a budget. You are looking at tens of thousands of dollars. Maybe more if you go for the full motion and triple screen setup.
Is it worth it? That depends on your bank account. But compared to a real race car, it is a bargain. A real F1 car costs millions. It requires a team of engineers to start. It breaks every time you look at it wrong.
An F1 simulator is a one-time cost. Well, mostly. You might want to upgrade the GPU every few years. But generally, it is a buy-once-cry-once situation. The maintenence is minimal compared to a track car.
There is also the resale value. High-end sim gear holds its value surprisingly well. There is a market for used Leo Bodnar bases and Heusinkveld pedals. It isn’t like buying a generic gaming PC that is worthless in two years.
You are paying for the experience. You are paying for the ability to drive at 200mph in your pajamas with a glass of scotch waiting on the side table. You can’t put a price on that convenience.
Well, you can. And it is high. But you get what you pay for.
Final Thoughts
I spent a long time thinking these things were ridiculous. Why spend that much money on a game? But then I sat in a proper one. I felt the belt tensioner tighten as I hit the brakes. I felt the curb rattle my teeth.
It changed my mind. An F1 simulator isn’t just a game. It is an escape. In a world that is increasingly digital and disconnected, there is something raw about wrestling a 26Nm steering wheel.
If you have the space and the means, it is the ultimate addition to a home. It beats a pool table. It beats a home cinema. It certainly beats a piano you can’t play.
Just make sure you get the color right. It has to match the room.





