Tesla Model S Plaid: An Electric Symphony by St. Elon and His Silicon Valley Minstrels
The other day, while I was diligently nurturing my vintage Italian motorbike with the love and care of a proud peacock, I received a call from a chap who asked me if I'd fancy a spin in the newest four-wheeled marvel, the Tesla Model S Plaid. This, the ludicrously-named 'Plaid' model, is a car that Elon Musk promises will make me forget about petrol forever.
"Does it have a nuclear fusion reactor under the bonnet?" I asked, failing to suppress my smirking. "Well, no," the chap retorted, "but it does 0-60 mph in less than two seconds!" "Alright, fine," I responded, pushing the vintage beauty to the back of the garage.
As the red beast approached, I couldn't help but smirk at its simplicity - a look that hasn't changed much since its initial release. But this was the Plaid, Tesla's wildest creation, reportedly boasting the kind of performance figures that would leave even the most venerable supercars trembling in their boots.
From the outside, the Plaid looks much like any other Model S, which is to say it looks like a jelly bean designed by someone who was asked to make a car but had only ever seen one in their dreams. But then you step inside and oh my, the reality distortion field hits you harder than a Bitcoin crash. The new yoke-style steering wheel, which appears to be an attempt to blend the worlds of aviation and cars, is just Elon showing off. The man simply couldn't resist the opportunity to say, "Look at me, I'm Tony Stark, I'm reinventing the wheel...literally."
However, once you get past the wheel that's not a wheel, you're greeted with a remarkable 17-inch cinematic display that's crisper than a winter morning in Yorkshire. It's like having an IMAX theater in your dashboard. It's almost enough to distract you from the fact that, in typical Tesla fashion, there are about as many physical buttons as there are honest politicians.
Now, the stats. 1020 horsepower. 390 miles of range. 0 to 60 mph in less than 2 seconds. All that power delivered to you quicker than an Amazon Prime package. The Plaid will take you from 'Oh that's nice' to 'Bloody Hell!' faster than a vindaloo from the local curry house.
As I gingerly prodded the accelerator, the car launched forward with the ferocity of a cheetah that's just been told it's late for dinner. The Model S Plaid, ladies and gentlemen, is not just fast. It's 'hold onto your dentures, Granny' fast. The 'Plaid' in its name should really stand for 'Please Look At I'm Dying' because the acceleration genuinely makes you question your mortality.
The best part about all this is the car's total silence. No growl, no roar, just wind noise, and your own terrified laughter. It's like being in the world's fastest library. For something so absurdly quick, it's disturbingly quiet, like a gazelle sneaking up on a lion.
Yet, in the corners, it's more composed than a monk on sedatives, carving through bends with the grace of an Olympic figure skater. Tesla claims that the new tri-motor setup improves the car's handling and after a drive, I'm inclined to agree.
However, it's not all rainbows and speedy unicorns. The ride is harsher than a cold British seaside holiday and some of the interior bits feel less premium than they should, given the price tag. It's as if Elon spent all the money on batteries and rockets and forgot to leave some for the interiors.
But all these complaints melt away when you plant your foot down and the world becomes a blur. The Tesla Model S Plaid is not a car. It's a land-bound spaceship, an electric chariot for the brave and the bonkers. It's so fast it may well be the first production car to risk a speeding ticket from NASA.
It's flawed, yes, like a dog that's learned to play fetch but hasn't yet worked out how to stop. But in the end, it doesn't matter. The Tesla Model S Plaid is more than a car. It's a message from the future, a testament to the relentless pursuit of speed. It's the sort of mad genius idea that you can't help but love.
And with that, the conclusion is foregone. If you've got a spare $108,490 burning a hole in your pocket, you could do far worse than a Model S Plaid. It's a warp-speed roller coaster that also happens to be a family saloon. It’s the automotive equivalent of a chocolate-dipped jalapeño - it doesn’t make sense, but you can’t help but want more.
In a world that sometimes feels a bit too sane and sensible, the Plaid is a welcome slice of bonkers. And for that, Elon, I salute you. But for the love of all that's holy, please bring back some proper buttons.
