At this moment, if your goal is to spend as much money as possible on a single, brand-new car, you’re kind of out of luck, because it seems that most expensive new car in the world has been sold, at a rumored $28 million dollars, to some anonymous money-haver. You shouldn’t feel bad, though, because I bet your credit rating wasn’t good enough to get that 112,000-month/9.3 millennia loan you needed to keep the monthly payments at about $250. The car is the coachbuilt Rolls-Royce Boat-Tail, and you will likely never ever even get near it.
I’m sitting here reading the press release Rolls-Royce sent out about this car, and I’m not sure I’ve ever encountered something so absolutely, profoundly alien and removed from the comparatively shitty reality I find myself in.
Keep in mind that the division of Rolls-Royce that makes these one-off, coachbuilt cars, like the Sweptail that was one of the previous Most Expensive New Cars Ever Ever, is their coachbuilt division, and they work directly with stomach-churningly wealthy clients to create the dreams made into aluminum-and-platinum-coated-saffron reality.
As a result, each car is the idiosyncratic dream of their patrons, who, while not named, are hinted at in painfully overwrought descriptions. For example, when explaining the refrigerator built into the nautical-inspired rear deck, we learn this:
A double refrigerator has been developed to house the clients’ favourite vintages of Armand de Brignac champagne. Elegant cradles were created to stow the specific bottle size within the refrigerator, the surrounds are highly polished and colour matched to the bottle.
While champagne is a familiar trope in the luxury world, Boat Tail’s client had a particular affinity with fine wine. The husband of this couple recalled a story from his humble beginnings. A great friend of his was a sommelier in his hometown and educated him in the taste profiles of various Grandes Marques de Champagne. This became a life-long education that turned into one of the most informed collections of rare Grand Cru champagnes in the world. The requirement for this knowledge and passion to be shared through the client’s Boat Tail was paramount – as was the need for this champagne to be rapid-cooled to precisely six degrees – the optimum serving temperature of the preferred vintage.
What the fuck? First, if your “humble beginnings” involve being “educated... in the taste profiles of various Grandes Marques de Champagne” then I think I’m going to call a Grande Marque of Bullshit on any claims of “humble.” Fucking please. (Maybe he was a waiter? -ED)
And that part about the bubbly booze being chilled to “precisely six degrees?” This isn’t the last time a precision number of degrees is referenced in this car.
When describing how the dual gullwing-like rear decklid doors open to expose the “hosting suite,” which in turn orients itself automatically, we’re treated to this glorious bit of wealthy person nonsense:
Hinged towards the centre line, the synchronised balletic opening movement reveals a treasure chest of moving parts that offer themselves to the host at a precise angle of 15 degrees. This subtle gesture of presentation reflects a genteel and quintessentially British expression of service.
Holy motherfucking shit, are they for real with this? “Offer themselves to the host at a precise angle of 15 degrees?” Maybe I’m a miserable wad of shtetl-born offal, but I had no idea there was a precise angle that reflected genteel and quintessentially British expressions of service. What a fool I was!
Am I to understand that this precise angle of, uh, servitude, was something these people wanted? Was this specified? Did fucking Scrooge McServilefetish whip out his platinum protractor and draw a line at the point where he felt adequately catered to, at least in reference to the horizon?
Are these people even still really part of humanity, or have they already let go, and are like Dr.Manhattan brooding around on Mars, tired of Earth, these people, and the tangle of their lives?
I think they’re already gone. I must have more in common with a feral dog than I do with whatever these beings of wealth have become.
One thing we do know about them, though, is that they seek languid experiences, punctuated with parasols or umbrellas:
A classic design element of contemporary Rolls-Royce motor cars is the stowage of Rolls-Royce umbrellas in the doors, in anticipation of possible poor weather. In a delightful twist and to heighten the languid experience of Boat Tail, a unique parasol is housed beneath the rear centre line in anticipation of fine weather. A telescopic movement opens this beautiful and whimsical canopy inversely, ensuring effortless deployment.
This is all referencing the big party trick of this grand, lovely mess, where you can open the back of the car to expose all of the fun gadgets and basically undertake the most aggrandized interpretation of “tailgating” ever conceived by humans.
Oh, and we get more of that creepy-ass master-and-servant horseshit here, too (emphasis mine):
Cocktail tables, which elegantly rotate to mimic the offering of an attendant, open on either side of the hosting suite providing access to two highly contemporary minimalist stools, which are discretely stowed below. Designed by Rolls-Royce and created by Italian furniture maker Promemoria, the slim-line interlocking stools are formed from the same technical fibre found on the exterior of the car.
The pop-out tables mimic the offering of an attendant? This is starting to feel downright pervy.
This is what the whole setup looks like when in full “hosting mode” or whatever the hell they want to call it:
Look at the albino peacock on the right there, wondering what the fuck he’s looking at. Honestly, with that parasol tail out and everything flopped out at those just perfect servants’ angles, the energy I get off of this thing reminds me of this, more than anything:
I wonder if the owners will get a sticker of that printed to stick on the wooden deck of the rear bumper?
Oh, and if all of this isn’t enough, we learn some other exciting tidbits about the secretive networthlings that commissioned the car:
The fascia is distilled in its appearance, purposefully reduced to provide a modern aesthetic. This minimalist canvas accentuates the jewel like features of the completely unique BOVET 1822 timepieces specifically commissioned by the client for Boat Tail (see below). Collecting pens is another of the clients’ great passions. A particularly cherished Montblanc pen will reside in a discretely placed, hand-crafted, case of aluminium and leather, in Boat Tail’s glove box.
So they have custom-made timepieces and a super-fancy Montblanc, all with special compartments in the dash? They’re into fancy watches and pens, along with expensive champagne and “hosting?” You don’t say?
Tell me, Rolls-Royce, how did you manage to locate the most by-the-book, sterotypical, boring, basic-ass hyperwealthy couple in the world? Was it hard getting Thurston Howell III off of that island? Is that why it looks like a boat?
I mean, sure, in many ways, this is a stunningly beautiful car. It’s inspired by the fiercely nautical 1932 Rolls-Royce Phantom II Boat Tail Tourer, a car that is owned and was restored by the clients that commissioned this modern one, which I guess is just something you can do when you seemingly own much of the world’s supply of money.
The profile of the car is long and elegant, with the boat tail shape adapting remarkably well to the lines of the car. Ornamentation is minimal, giving the overall look a timeless purity.
That convertible top is also pretty remarkable, with those novel architectural buttresses on either side.
Oh, look, another fucking albino peacock showed up.
The front end is significant for Rolls-Royce because it marks one of the only times that their trademark edifice, the Pantheon Grille, has been constructed and actually integrated into the overall design of the car, as opposed to the usual approach where its worn out front like gaudy jewelry.
The vertical slats are now inset into the bodywork, and the upper pediment now flows gracefully into the hood design. This is a significant and risky departure for Rolls-Royce, and I think it works very well.
There. I’ve said enough nice things about this shitbox. It’s beautiful and a marvel of handcrafted design and also so wildly and deliriously inaccessible and elitist in all of the absolute worst possible ways that I kind of hate it, too.
I can acknowledge its beauty and craftmanship, but I can also say that this is a machine I have absolutely no desire for. Any situation you can use this thing in you can have even more fun with a 1996 Renault Twingo, a card table, a bunch of good take-out, and a Mrs.Butterworth’s bottle filled with gin.
So, congratulations, you pen, watch, and champagne-loving kooks! I hope everybody attends to your every need with just the right angle! Enjoy your stupid car, you wealth-hoarding bags of shit!
I kid, I kid! When do I get my invite to the press drive, Rolls-Royce? Business casual?