Real Men Ride Bitch

So, something rather delightful arrived at my doorstep a few weeks ago, and it has been killing me not to post pictures of it all over Facebook and Twitter but I wanted to wait until the weather was good enough for me to show it off properly. Meet my glorious new ride, Fiddler.


Isn't she lovely*?

Sunglasses: Rayban, Vest: Vintage, Sweatshirt: Old
Navy, Black Cords: Old Navy, Purse: Coach,
Scooter: bitchin

Best present ever, is it not? What's more, Dad brought her down in person so I got to spend some time with him, which is a woefully rare happening.

She's not my first two-wheeled venture. When my best friend in college and I told our friends we were planning on buying a Vespa, they thought it was the stupidest idea they'd ever heard. As we drove off into the sunset on our beloved purple scooter, I like to think they ate their words along with a little dust.

We took that damn thing everywhere- Salem, Southie, the North End, and always in heels. We got to know the city like the back of our hand, along with every shoe repair shop around.

Fiddler may not be quite as Italian and sleek as V (her name was V. Also, sometimes she was a he) but she's still quite a sight. I miss the hell out of my old riding companion, but we'll always have Boston**.

*This Hollywood girl. And they say, "she's so lucky, she's a star," but she cry-cry-cries in the lonely heartbreaking. A little Britney for your Monday- you're welcome.
**We'll also always stand by our motto: Real Men Ride Bitch.