IT IS A VACHERON CONSTANTIN IN A GENERATION OF APPLE WATCHES
I refuse to bore you about how the inception of the Aston Martin Rapide S came to be. I could go on and tell you that because Porsche is owned by Volkswagen, they had a limitless budget to produce a four door car from the ground up and did not have to resort to stretching a perfectly propotioned 911 Carrera S - that would be horrible. So to cut all of that out, let me tell you that Aston Martin does not have the deep pockets of Porsche, but where they lack in budget for R&D, they more than make up for with passion, flair, and soul. In this tier of a car, that's what truly matters.
It's a mistress of sorts, should you be a loyal to your wife. And if given the chance, you wouldn't want a monotonous robot who folds all of your shirts and stacks them in perfect symmetry every single time, oh no. You want a fiery and temperamental babe with legs that stretch the River Nile, and is completely useless apart from the fact that she is the prettiest thing you've ever laid your eyes on. Except, one day you arrive and see her in nothing but her underwear and a pinstriped polo, while she unknowingly brews you the best cup of coffee you've ever had in your life.
A couple of months back, I was able to drive the menacing V12 Vantage S around the track, and in as much as I was blown away with the engine and the theater, it wasn't how I imagined an Aston Martin to be. It was by all accounts a beautiful car, but it didn't have the understated elegance that would make Charlotte Casiraghi look twice, nor did it have an interior similar to the Monte Carlo club lounge of jet set legend, Porfirio Rubirosa. Fortunately, the Rapide S is a completely different story.
When you stand near the Rapide, it doesn't matter what it is in the presence of. Whether it be a Range Rover, a Rolls-Royce, or even a green Lamborghini, it is unlike anything else on the road today. I have never seen anything burst so much life into the color gray. It is by 9,000,000 miles plus a zillion, the most beautiful thing to ever have four doors. Through Aston Martin's ingenuity, it was designed with their trademark 'Golden Ratio', which means that it looks perfectly proportional from every single angle.
And it isn't just aesthetics, the design helps the engineers achieve a near perfect weight distribution. The massively aggressive front grille that feeds air to the bombastic 6-liter V12 engine, is also the largest grille to ever pass pedestrian protection requirements. By no means does that equate to walking away when a Rapide decides to run you over at 327 km/h.
Stepping inside the Rapide is a class above first. The key, which they refer to as an 'Emotional Control Unit', is made of Sapphire Crystal. While that may sound a little bit cheesy, there isn't anything to cringe about when you slot that key in and awaken all 552 British thoroughbreds. I've said this before, and I'll say it again, the exhaust note of an Aston Martin V12 engine is absolute perfection. It sounds like God doing... ungodly things. After you've been hypnotized by the V12 bellow, you'll soon realize that you are in the most special place you'll probably ever be in. Ever. Everything inside is bespoke.
It takes 5,000 stitches to embroider an Aston Martin logo on the seat, just to get the perfect finish. The buttons to select gears are made of glass. The smell of the leather is so pungent that if you were Vegan or if you love animals, you'd have to kill yourself on the spot for enjoying the whiff of cow hide from the Bridge of Weir tannery. I still can't understand any of the functions on the waterfall of buttons, but really, none of that matters because everything is so textile and pleasurable to touch. You'd be forgiven if you had an orgasm. Don't be shy.