My bike signifies silly.
She's a 27" ladies step-through, a relic from the eighties.
But mostly, she's pink and glittery.
I've prettied her up with era-appropriate accessories. Spoke beads (aka 'spokey dokes'), pink and white handlebar tassels and a powder blue front basket adorn her. Most recent addition - a duo of silver glitter handlebar grips. They spell pure (silly) perfection.
I love her with all my heart, for some of the most obvious of reasons.
And some of the least obvious.
One such being the very experience of riding my Kylie* (an eighties girl she is, spelled out in that name) through this, the city in which I live.
Kylie is camp.
Kylie is pink and glittery, and generally hard to miss.
Kylie elicits grins and nods and yells out of car windows (so do I on occasion).
And mostly the tassels rustling gently in the breeze signify 'idiot riding, proceed with care' to all and sundry who share the road with me.
And means that road rules are bent slightly for me, as cars give way, and forgive any riding errors of judgement.
This makes me feel on occasion like I'm wrapped in a pink glittery cotton-wool cloud on the way to my goings on. It makes me feel safe and cared for, and infuses me with a deep love of my bike and all experiences I share with her.
It also means I have had only one accident in the last 10 months or so of riding her, and that was a drunk rider's fault.
The campness of Kylie shrieks 'GIRL' to everyone on the street.
It means that my un-made-up face and black jeans with scuffed up canvas sneakers become instantly girly and slightly silly.
This means that I learn everyday to care a little less about what everyone thinks of me, as my love for Kylie shines from me, oblivious to ridicule.
It makes even the smallest of excursions upon her a flight of fancy.
And it returns me to a childhood where I would rush back home in a fluster for my very own She-Ra- accessories-not-included, and revel in her daily.
But most importantly, she reminds me not to take myself too seriously.**
*Someone once informed me that Kylie is the only name that Australia has ever donated to the lexicon. I reserve judgement, since it seems that Indigenous Australians would have plenty more to contribute than that.
** One of my deeply-held theories being that the world would be a better place, should everyone take themselves a bit less seriously - just ponder the consequences of that, and I shall return to you with a longer post on exactly that topic.