I have a new, totally inappropriate crush, on a bicycle. I say inappropriate for three reasons.
Firstly, I have a sneaking suspicion that half the reason I am crushing on these new, vintage style bicycles right now, is that I believe somewhere in the back of my mind if I owned one of these beauties, I too, would look svelte and fabulous riding along each and every sunny day in my silk summer dress and heels, as per the pictures above. Not a hair on my head would be out of place as I cycle over to lounge on a park bench, with my picnic conveniently packed in my saddle bag and some freshly cut flowers in my basket.
Secondly, there is no chance in the near, or distant future, that I'm ever going to live anywhere that even remotely resembles the above pictures, or that would be even partially flat enough for me to ride on without having to get off two minutes in, to walk my beloved up the hill, creating sweat stains on my dress, ruining my make-up and damaging those perfect red pumps on the rough tar seal.
And thirdly, after I went swanning into a bike shop in Victoria this afternoon after seeing a similar bicycle in the shop window, I recoiled in horror when the price tag that swung before my eyes was a nasty four digit number... that's before the decimal point. Ugh. Why must I always crush on what I can't have?