I once owned a pair of Doc Martens, and they were seriously bitchin . . . except that they were lilac. My high school bedroom boasted a white eyelet canopy and bubblegum-colored walls . . . pasted over with pictures of Kurt Cobain. I love me a little girliness, but only when it’s got some badass, too. So to harden the pastel sweetness of my terribly feminine cream-colored Bianchi Cortina bike with its pretty pink basket, I picked up this helmet:
Strangely, I now give off the wrong impression when I walk into class with it. . . which might not be the worst thing.
Eying my head candy, a student asked one day: “Hey, do you snowboard?”
Me: “Nah . . . this is just for my bike.”
Another day, another student asked: “Hey, do you have a vespa?”
Me: “I wish!”
And today, a third: “Oh, wow. Do you drive a motorcycle?”
Me: “Goodness, no! I mean . . . just a little pink vespa.”