I’m going to preface this by saying I knew - and still don’t know - anything about whisky. I do, however, know how it feels to own something unique. One of a kind. That intrinsically smug feeling of owning something nobody else owns. Enter The Whisky Man.
When I first met Chris, his collection was nothing more than a few bottles neatly placed on the mantle. Fast forward seven years and our tiny dining area resembles that of an underground bar during prohibition- cabinets ceiling to floor full of whisky; some rare, some sentimental. The artwork on some of these bottles is spectacular and I daresay that is what attracts me to his collection; the intricate details, designs and colours chosen to that bring an otherwise dull bottle to life.
My absolute favourite bottle, however, has to be the Johnny Walker Paris Bottle from the “Cities Collection.”
Being an absolute tragic for anything and everything French, Chris surprised me with a trip to Paris where he proposed. Far from being one to waltz through the Jardin du Luxembourg or listen to me singing ‘La Boheme” in broken French (yet again,) we trolled through French bottle shops looking for a very special souvenir.
Sitting in a taxi on the way back from Galleries La Fayette, we happened to sight the Maison Du Whisky. Just like in the movies, the cab came to a jackknifing halt as Chris jumped out and ran towards his Mother Ship. Me, trudging behind him, was opened up to a world I never knew existed.
There it was, sitting on a shelf towards the back of the store. The JW Paris Bottle. The Parisian skyline had never looked so good as the gold contrasted against the dark hue of the whisky. Chris had searched for this bottle for months back in Australia and had struggled to find it without a ridiculous mark up. His eyes lit up like a child at Christmas. Chris had finally lay claim to his Holy Grail. He picked it up tentatively and held it in both hands. Months of searching, and it was finally his. We’d flown 16,950km to find the bottle, but we finally had it.
But I hear the wives and girlfriends cry out in dismay! “But whisky is whisky!” And ladies, I hear you. But are shoes, shoes? Are diamonds, diamonds? Are bags, bags? No. Of course not. If you had the opportunity to own Jimmy Choo’s, would you select the Betts? No. You wouldn’t. But…you’re right. You’d only wear the Choo’s once and the Betts would be so much more practical. Absolutely. But there’s something enticing about owning the Choo’s, isn’t there? A prestige, a pride, a “look what I’ve got.”
Whisky is the same. The Whisky Man isn’t just about your average bottle shop drop. It’s about the Choo’s, DeBeers and Birkin’s of the Whisky World.
The Whisky Man has you covered. How? Well that’s simple. Because The Whisky Man Can.
