Today I bought my first bike. It's not the first bike I've ever had, but it's the first one I bought myself.
She's very pretty and is black with a cane basket. I was planning on buying a second hand bike, but Ceres was flat out and the line was huge so I drove Mr McGoo to the bike shop I pass on my walk into work to "suss it out".
She was in the doorway. And she was the one.
Three years ago, I was looking for a puppy. I had two criteria, he had to be a boy, and he had to be a rescue. Steve, my housemate at the time, and I would spend every Saturday at the Lost Dogs Home or RSPCA visiting the puppies & dogs. Our agent was taking ages getting back to us with the landlords permission "I'm sure it'll be okay but we'll just have to check" and I couldn't bare another weekend visiting pups and not taking one home.
So that Saturday, we went to Ikea. Somewhere between the car park and the Ikea entrance, we saw Shaun, in the window at Pets Paradise.
Shaun was 14 weeks old, twice the size of the other puppies in his pen. The shop assistant told us he was half off. He had outstayed his welcome at the shop. I knew he was my dog. I placed him on hold and that Monday we had the okay from the landlord. Shaun moved in with us on Tuesday.
I'm telling you this story, because living in Brunswick, there is an expectation your dog has come from a shelter, or get out of our suburb you evil animal torturer. I get asked every day two questions: how old is he (because they assume he is still a pup) and where did you rescue him from?
I have to hang my head in shame, and assure them that the pet shop were ready to hand him over to the pound anyway, as he had now cost them more than they would get back for him. Besides, he was my soul mate and he found me.
Anyway, I'm really hoping I don't have to live with this same guilt with my new bicycle. And if you have something to say about me buying from a store and not gumtree, say it to my face.
Because this girl is my soul mate too. I'm a terrible bike rider, I've never been able to get my bum off the seat, or take my hand off the bars to indicate, but with this girl, riding was easy. We were a fit.
But just before I signed on the dotted line, I turned to Mr McGoo and checked:
Is it cool, or is it try-hard?
My whole life I feel I have got this wrong. The hot pink satin dress I bought because I looked super pretty and my friends took years to tell me was the worst dress they had ever seen. The set of three wooden giraffes I picked up in Bali for a bargin. The crocs... just kidding. Even I know crocs are awful.
I have learned not to trust my judgement when it comes to fashion. Or my opinion on most things. And the line between actual vintage and "pretend" vintage is pretty unclear. Friends of Couture have figured it out. Kmart havent. I don't know if Samson Cycles have. But Richard said it was cool and I trust him because he wears pinstripe.
Anyway, I'm not putting up a photo because I couldn't bare to find out we got it wrong and I will be ridiculed all the way down Brunswick St. My ignorance is my bliss and she is my perfection.
