Thursday, 16 September 2010

Plane Crazy - with chrome trim, please!

So, imagine you finally crack the big time. 

Like, you win the lottery, inherit Warren Buffet's fortune, sell your own company for more than the market cap of Google, marry a gazillionaire who promptly hands over all their wealth, AND you discover you're the sole heir of a kingdom that turns out to be set upon a bedrock of oil and diamonds. 

Got your head around that? 

Then imagine that you do what uber-big time,stinking rich people do. 

You buy a private jet don't you? (Well, after some generous philanthropic activity, eradicating poverty, a wee nip and tuck in a couple of pesky places, hiring a lawyer to fight unfair parking charges, buying a handful of holiday homes and a big old yacht).  

Looks good hey? 

You'd have the best flight deck ever, all the bells and whistles, knobs and radar and ipod chargers and thingiemabobs, like this: 

And you'd probably want a beautiful interior to match, wouldn't ya? 

Don't worry if you can't begin to imagine how to design a private jet - Nick Gleis has made a living out of photographing the interiors of some of the worlds most expensive ones, assembled here for you!

'Cos if you go with 'neutral colours', you can play with chrome trims, organic shapes, patterned ceilings and bespoke rugs.

Prefer your plush seats the colour of your million dollar merlot, served under lights modelled on your bespoke hubcaps? 

Or, my personal favourite - a whole silver leather suite, shaped like it came out of the seventies, or at least out of the classifieds, zebra-effect striped rugs, infra-red KITT style remote controls, walls painted to match, some lava-esque art, and a mirrored ceiling.
Yip, a mirrored ceiling!  

I know, I know: its the crampiness of economy that you're trying to avoid - you're worried that despite the extravagance of your La-Z-Boy leather lounge suite and all that bling, you won't get a decent nights sleep. 

Don't worry, your own Very-Expensive,Cost-A-Lot-Of-Money Private Jet would come with a bedroom, maybe even like this: 

I like to call it Art Rich'Ou Nouveau Disgustingo...with a hint of soft porn. 

Feeling airsick? Step into the bathroom. 
This is no 'smoking-prohibited, stainless-steel box':

It's gold.
Real gold.
'Cos you ain't nothing if you're not being ill into a golden sink at 30 000 feet, innit? 


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