The bubbles… They rise softly to the head, they dance, they stir, they make our certainties tremble. They intoxicate us to the point of transforming us.

Sometimes angel, sometimes demon. Under their golden shimmer, we reveal ourselves, shedding our feathers, leaving a bit of our skin behind. The bubbles place a delicate veil over our eyes— a veil that lets our horns grow without us even noticing.

That’s why I chose the SG: the guitar of the little devil, Angus Young, that electric icon who moves between vice and virtuosity. A perfect symbol for this fusion of luxury, excess, and rock’n’roll.

Corks burst, bottles explode like fireworks, all to celebrate life, to revel, and to honour that sweet madness within us when champagne sets our souls vibrating.