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Driving the 2015 Rolls-Royce Wraith, $328,000 of Tailored Excess

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There’s a certain seductive, prodigious draw to the bespoke. Take, for example, John Neeman’s Damascus steel knives: it’s mesmerizing to watch a master craftsman painstakingly fold, hammer and twist red-hot chunks of metal into a mottled work of art, but handcrafted blades come at a hefty premium; whereas a forged Wusthof kitchen knife sells for about $125, a similar John Neeman blade costs about $800, and takes months to deliver. As a testament to their craft, top chefs and craftsmen around the world use their wares.

Similarly, Rolls-Royce’s draws on that same custom-tailored, ultra-luxe ethos in the 2015 Rolls-Royce Wraith, which I drove for the better half of the week. You immediately notice it when opening the suicide doors fitting for a bank vault hatch, and the polished sills greeting you with “hand built in Goodwood, England.” But what you get — and don’t get — for splurging $328,000 can be a surprise.

Unlike a made-to-order Brioni, some facets aren’t quite one-off due to the company being owned by BMW. It starts with the chassis, which is based on the 7 Series like its four-door sibling, the Rolls-Royce Ghost. Some visible Bimmer bits creep in, too, like the key fob that looks almost identical to a 3 Series, but with a Rolls-Royce logo affixed. There’s a tasteful splash of chrome trim and off-white art deco dials in the sumptuous cabin, but a BMW iDrive UI and knob quietly speaks of its Bavarian heritage.

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The resemblance to Bavarian luxury ends there, as the Wraith drives like an imposing yacht as opposed to an ultimate driving machine. Its 624-hp V-12 accelerates with deliberate reticence that still hustles to 60 mph in 4.4 seconds, in spite of its curb weight of 5,380 lbs. Fluidic gear changes from the eight-speed ZF are only noticeable when seeing the RPM needle lazily dip down when cruising. There’s surprisingly some feedback in the bus-sized steering wheel, though its slow steering ratio means you’d never fancy taking it to a weekend autocross. While sportier than the rest of the lineup, it’s an autobahn bruiser at heart—take a sweeper beyond the speed limit and it glides rather than claws at the tarmac. But the Wraith is too dignified for hooning, and it cruises even at triple-digit speeds with a hushed serenity befitting its stately character.

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While Rolls-Royces have never been short on personality, recently it’s been a stretch to call the cars beautiful with their decadent, ostentatious styling devoid of subtlety.  Fortunately the slab-sided design of its siblings has been partially reconciled with softer lines and a raked C-pillar in the Wraith, and it’s aesthetically more sensible than the Phantom Drophead–though you might run down Jeeves without the backup sensors due to limited rear visibility. It still commands a presence unmatched by most luxury coupes, to the point where it feels completely out of place in plebian joints like your local McDonalds.

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Unlike other luxury automakers that are quick to jump on new technology, there’s also still an old analog British flair, like pulling knobs for closing AC vents, or macaron-shaped climate dials. Coupled with the satin wood trim, and a fastback profile reminiscent of the streamliners from the 1930s, they offer a timeless aesthetic and ambiance to the car.

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One of the biggest limitations to driving a Rolls-Royce press car is you miss out of the bespoke buying experience, and all the lavish and sometimes outlandish customization options at your disposal — it’s like wearing a stranger’s tailored suit. Safety and imagination are the only limits, and some of the exorbitant features you can order include:

  • Starry night headliner, which integrates 1,400 LEDs to mimic a star-lit sky, and can specified to specific constellation arrangements.

  • Built-in thermos in the suicide doors (which the company crash tested.)

  • Picnic set, for a more traditional flair.

  • Custom-sourced trim–one buyer even had wood used from his own land. Ours had Macassar Ebony canadel trim, which costs $12,500.

For a base price of $284,900, there are a few surprising things that don’t come standard, like adaptive headlights ($1,300) or comfort entry system (part of the $38,825 Wraith Package), whereas some frills—like an electronically retracting Spirit of Ecstasy grill ornament—do. Spring for the $1,225 lambswool floormats and it feels like your feet are resting on tufts of clouds.

Yes, as a value proposition, the Warret Buffets of the economic elite will wince. But for the Floyd Mayweathers of the world, the price for a peerlessly bespoke ride will be worth it—just like a Neeman knife or Holland & Holland rifle.