British Tailoring
There's a good reason TV's Magnum drove a Ferrari and the Duke boys tore through Hazzard County in a Dodge Charger. Certain cars simply exude the essence of the person--fictional or otherwise--behind the wheel. And that is why Aston Martin is so indelibly linked to everyone's favorite double-naught spy, James Bond. Aston's DB9 is the rolling embodiment of grace, good looks and suave British charm, all wrapped around more machismo than you'll find in a WWE caged-ring match.
Living the Aston lifestyle, we drove a DB9 Coupe from the ultraswank W Hotel in San Diego to lunch at an oasis in Borrego Springs. The car's intimate cockpit coddled us in leather and wool. When we tired of the 950-watt Linn audio system, we lowered the Coupe's windows and listened to the equally sweet song of the 450-hp V12 playing through the dual exhausts. Trust us, the car is capable of going much faster than sane, truly competent drivers are willing to drive. The DB9 was rock solid and ridiculously proficient on the serpentine mountain roads between the Pacific Ocean and the Salton Sea. On empty, straight-line blacktop, it's a freight train.
Aston Martins are largely hand-built. Since no car is begun before it is ordered, Aston can afford this luxury. So can the typical buyer. But surprisingly, the power windows do not have a one-touch-to-close feature and the glove compartment door flops open. Happily, the thick leather dulls the sting when it hits your knees.--Don Chaikin
