The Aston Martin One-77 has Overdosed on Low and Mean
While traipsing around Carmel during Pebble Beach weekend, we found the Aston Martin One-77 tucked between hospitality tables like a manta ray brooding within a coral reef -- as if it were grudgingly consenting to being looked at. With a roofline that sits about four inches lower than a DBS, the minimal height, exceptional girth, and slew of edged features combine to create one angry car.
Yet it does possess its moments of soft beauty: the engine bay is a case of stupendous craftsmanship; we'd use the mirror-finish twin-spoke wheels to do our shaving every morning; the carbon fiber rear suspension weaving its way through leather-trimmed panels is nothing short of delicious. Inside, the car is minutely detailed, with black leather and white cross-stitching slathering nearly every deeply arced surface -- at least, all those that aren't carbon fiber and aluminum. Everything other than the white-backed center console gauges elicits a slightly intoxicated "Yes" from our hearts. That's the velvet glove side of the One-77.
Its iron fist is much bigger, and it wears brass knuckles in the form of a 7.3-liter V12. Best of all, Even better: there's still time to get one. You can place a call to Aston Martin for an order, after which they'll ask you to wire $1.8 million. Or you can simply enjoy the beast in the gallery below.