Vroom vroom

I've never been the type drawn to bad boys. When I was in my dating prime (a long, long time ago) my heart was decidedly pulled towards scholarly, preppy types. My ideal boyfriend was a law, pre-med or political science major who wore corduroy, freshly pressed oxford shirts and a lot of Ralph Lauren. He did not smoke, do drugs, or get anything less than a B+ on his papers. The ideal guy drove a Saab or older-model BMW he helped pay for from money earned tutoring high school students.  He smelled like Polo and listened to Billy Joel and The Cranberries. I suppose I stereotyped these boys to be stable, reliable, and thoughtful, the type to pick me up on time and help me with my calculus. (I did, eventually, marry a lawyer, whom I might add has all the things I was looking for.)


I was an extremely serious college student, the type who felt guilty when they missed class and hung out in the T.A office to surreptitiously gleam tips for acing the next exam. Honestly, I didn't have much fun at all (unless you consider pulling all-nighters cramming for your statistics final fun.) I never attended a frat party, didn't drink before my 21st birthday, and went to bed by ten. I also worked two jobs and carried a full course load, so perhaps I didn't have the time nor the energy to party.


The absence of a traditional teenage rebellion eventually caught up with me. A few years ago, I got my nose pierced, the gateway drug towards my first tattoo. One became two, became three, became thirteen (oops.) I know it's kind of weird that I acted out at 33. Maybe I wasn't ready to break the mold until then. In any case, when I saw a Triumph moto tee at Plato's, I was all over it. I have no desire to careen down the road on a bike, but there's something symbolic about owning an article of clothing with one on it.

J Crew vintage denim shirt; Triumph motorcycle tee (Plato's Closet); Nordstrom Rack necklace; Forever 21 skinny belt; Forever 21 brocade skirt; J Crew tights, Jessica Simpson booties, Forever 21 rhinestone bracelets.

Yes, these booties again. I will probably be a cripple by tonight.