I have a real love-hate thing going on with Bugatti. Vintage Bugattis are some of the most stunning machines of any type I’ve ever seen. Modern Bugattis are impressive, but fundamentally stupid. This Bugatti Lifestyle brand stuff, though, leaves me completely un-conflicted. It’s a glimpse into some ultra-weird rich guy crap I can’t begin to understand.

Don’t believe me? Think it’s just the jealousy of a man who drives 60 horsepower shit-domes and wears the same T-shirts he had in college? Maybe. But if you’ll just indulge me and take a little stroll through the Bugatti Lifestyle’s world of grim opulence, I think you may see my point.

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I know some of this is just the nature of expensive high-fashion mis-en-scene bullshit. But that doesn’t make it any better, really. First, let’s just look at some screengrabs of the little video that plays on the site to entice you into this Bugatti world.

First, we meet this guy. He looks fucking pissed. This is not the face of a happy man, and all the variations of grids he’s wearing just can’t help.

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Here, he pauses to gaze out into the bright gray void and wonder where it all went wrong, and why can’t he just be happy, and why must he be plagued with the somber knowledge that none of this matters?

“No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to dance.” (music plays, chair begins to slowly rise)

Two people, a chilly silence, one thought: “This isn’t working out.”

Hey, look! Bugatti sells costumes for your role as Tin Man in the Dayton, Ohio production of The Wiz!

Everyone kind of looks like a villain from one of the X-Men movies.

Okay, I get the concept behind this, but come on. That purse is shaped closer to a Model T radiator than a Bugatti.

If you’re not wearing a T-Shirt that costs 40 Euros, you’re basically an animal, rooting around in your own feces.

Decades ago, scientists only theorized one human could contain so much unbearability. I’m happy to say Bugatti’s dedicated team has broken yet another barrier to make something that was once only a dream possible.

This is from their “Bugatti Atelier” section. After measuring the crap out of this guy and showing him piles and piles of fabrics and clothes all in the same shade of dark blue, this, the most awkward handshake ever caught on film, is revealed.

It is humbling.

That guy isn’t really peeing on that Veyron, but the way he’s standing sure looks like he is. Maybe I added a little urine for effect there. And the way she’s standing, her hand clutching her hair in exasperated resignation, is just perfect.

“Marcus, again? We talked about this.”

This is from the collection only available to Bugatti owners, and only appealing to Bugatti owners who seem to want to cosplay as their cars. Is there a way to look at these people and not think “dipshits?”

Is there something wrong with me? I can’t help it.