Previous Issue
Issue 27

The Five greatest convertibles of all time
As convertible sales plummet and SUVs take over, we celebrate a dying breed with five of the greatest open-top cars ever made.

Human beings, we’re reliably told, are up to 60% water, which is nowhere near as high as jellyfish but it’s a start. In this late capitalist moment of both relentless self-optimisation and ever-nicher status symbols, then, it seems surprising that the same old water brands have stayed at the top of the pecking order for so long. Fiji. Evian. Badoit. San Pellegrino. Acqua Panna. Perrier. Voss. Sure, something like a Liquid Death will come along once in a while and shake up the mid-market — but even that brand fell slightly out of favour a couple of years ago when it was revealed that it had quietly switched its springs away from the Austrian Alps to a place called ‘Bland, Idaho’. But in the last year or so a subtle change has come over the high-end hydration market — expensive new entrants, a rash of ‘water sommeliers’ on social media, a scandal involving the purity of Perrier, and a slew of apps that reveal the contaminants in various lifestyle products. There’s something, one might say, in the water. And it’s probably slightly more expensive water. Here are the five to drink.
The old salty dog. Beloved by places like Noble Rot. “Big crunchy bubbles that fill the mouth like a prawn cracker”, according to Alice Lascelles of the FT. Comes in a unique, mosaiced, Gaudi-esque bottle in that lovely shade of pale blue glass. So saline it cures your hangover and gives you another one at the same time.

Every canny startup these days has a neat origin story for podcast appearance and Whole Foods buyers, and ROI water’s goes straight to the source, so to speak. “Legend has it that Pegasus, instructed by Apollo, struck his hoof to the earth at Rogaška and opened up the Roitschocrene spring. What sprung forth was the world’s most magnesium-rich mineral water,” and presumably an option offer from Christopher Nolan. ROI has the highest mineral count of any water in the world, and claims accordingly to be perfect for “athletes, moms, managers, and everyone,” which should just about cover it. Zac Efron tried it on a TV travel show and said it tastes “like a coin.”

Legend has it that Roman soldiers would fill their vessels up on the way to battle at the source near Chateldon, in the Auvergne region of France, because they recognised the fortifying effects of its mineral composition. Did they also admire the water’s “creamy carbonation,” or its “smooth and substantial mouthfeel despite the low overall mineral weight”? (Louis XIV also loved it, and had it lugged up to Paris by mule.) This is the Domaine de la Romanee Conti of waters, with a handsome, gold-shield label and a strictly limited run of just 700,000 bottles per year.

With its art deco bottle and blocky mid-century type, Mondariz seems primed for our current moment of aesthetic nostalgia and Euromania. It’s sourced from deep underground aquifers near Mondariz-Balneario in Galicia, where the water takes 60 to 150 years to filter through the granite subsoil. The resulting liquid sits at a perfectly neutral pH, has a balanced, clean taste, and was historically renowned for its therapeutic qualities. John D Rockefeller was said to have bathed in it before inheriting his fortune. You will be charged a similar amount if you move it from the mini-bar.

Loonen sounds like a sleeping pill but feels like a psy-op. An industry plant from Big Anti-Pharma. Akin to those endless, high-colour, VC-backed adult soft drinks that suddenly line the shelves of Whole Foods and Erewhon, only without any flavour. (But I repeat myself). Why is your third favourite Substacker currently musing over it? Why is every tastemaker in New York drinking it? Apparently the aperture is a good size, and it fits in your cupholder, and the bubbles are pleasant. The wording on Loonen’s label is blandly defensive, as if you have discovered it in a government shipping container after the apocalypse. ‘PURIFIED WATER. CERTIFIED CLEAN.’ (It’s packed in glass bottles, and doesn’t come into contact with plastic during the bottling process.) The design is perfectly fine. The bottle looks fairly standard. It is currently £92 for a box of six on Amazon. Apparently it is being pitched as a perfect base for supplements. One wonders how it tastes with Kool-Aid.

Previous Issue
Issue 27

As convertible sales plummet and SUVs take over, we celebrate a dying breed with five of the greatest open-top cars ever made.
Don't miss next week
Get The Friday Five and the week's best stories straight to your inbox.

Human beings, we’re reliably told, are up to 60% water, which is nowhere near as high as jellyfish but it’s a start. In this late capitalist moment of both relentless self-optimisation and ever-nicher status symbols, then, it seems surprising that the same old water brands have stayed at the top of the pecking order for so long. Fiji. Evian. Badoit. San Pellegrino. Acqua Panna. Perrier. Voss. Sure, something like a Liquid Death will come along once in a while and shake up the mid-market — but even that brand fell slightly out of favour a couple of years ago when it was revealed that it had quietly switched its springs away from the Austrian Alps to a place called ‘Bland, Idaho’. But in the last year or so a subtle change has come over the high-end hydration market — expensive new entrants, a rash of ‘water sommeliers’ on social media, a scandal involving the purity of Perrier, and a slew of apps that reveal the contaminants in various lifestyle products. There’s something, one might say, in the water. And it’s probably slightly more expensive water. Here are the five to drink.
The old salty dog. Beloved by places like Noble Rot. “Big crunchy bubbles that fill the mouth like a prawn cracker”, according to Alice Lascelles of the FT. Comes in a unique, mosaiced, Gaudi-esque bottle in that lovely shade of pale blue glass. So saline it cures your hangover and gives you another one at the same time.

Every canny startup these days has a neat origin story for podcast appearance and Whole Foods buyers, and ROI water’s goes straight to the source, so to speak. “Legend has it that Pegasus, instructed by Apollo, struck his hoof to the earth at Rogaška and opened up the Roitschocrene spring. What sprung forth was the world’s most magnesium-rich mineral water,” and presumably an option offer from Christopher Nolan. ROI has the highest mineral count of any water in the world, and claims accordingly to be perfect for “athletes, moms, managers, and everyone,” which should just about cover it. Zac Efron tried it on a TV travel show and said it tastes “like a coin.”

Legend has it that Roman soldiers would fill their vessels up on the way to battle at the source near Chateldon, in the Auvergne region of France, because they recognised the fortifying effects of its mineral composition. Did they also admire the water’s “creamy carbonation,” or its “smooth and substantial mouthfeel despite the low overall mineral weight”? (Louis XIV also loved it, and had it lugged up to Paris by mule.) This is the Domaine de la Romanee Conti of waters, with a handsome, gold-shield label and a strictly limited run of just 700,000 bottles per year.

With its art deco bottle and blocky mid-century type, Mondariz seems primed for our current moment of aesthetic nostalgia and Euromania. It’s sourced from deep underground aquifers near Mondariz-Balneario in Galicia, where the water takes 60 to 150 years to filter through the granite subsoil. The resulting liquid sits at a perfectly neutral pH, has a balanced, clean taste, and was historically renowned for its therapeutic qualities. John D Rockefeller was said to have bathed in it before inheriting his fortune. You will be charged a similar amount if you move it from the mini-bar.

Loonen sounds like a sleeping pill but feels like a psy-op. An industry plant from Big Anti-Pharma. Akin to those endless, high-colour, VC-backed adult soft drinks that suddenly line the shelves of Whole Foods and Erewhon, only without any flavour. (But I repeat myself). Why is your third favourite Substacker currently musing over it? Why is every tastemaker in New York drinking it? Apparently the aperture is a good size, and it fits in your cupholder, and the bubbles are pleasant. The wording on Loonen’s label is blandly defensive, as if you have discovered it in a government shipping container after the apocalypse. ‘PURIFIED WATER. CERTIFIED CLEAN.’ (It’s packed in glass bottles, and doesn’t come into contact with plastic during the bottling process.) The design is perfectly fine. The bottle looks fairly standard. It is currently £92 for a box of six on Amazon. Apparently it is being pitched as a perfect base for supplements. One wonders how it tastes with Kool-Aid.

Previous Issue
Issue 27

As convertible sales plummet and SUVs take over, we celebrate a dying breed with five of the greatest open-top cars ever made.
Don't miss next week
Get The Friday Five and the week's best stories straight to your inbox.