I, of course, do not possess that much coordination. And (come on!) a southern California upbringing, i.e., cars, cars, and more cars, does not lend itself to cultivating an appreciation for bikes, at least not where I grew up. I was mesmerized! To sum it up, it was a new aesthetic image for me, one that remains emblazoned in the landscape of my memory.
Fast forward, if you will, about 8 years: Living in Portland/Beaverton only compounds this fascination of bicycling. If you don't already know, Portland is huge on bikes. The resident male here is equally obsessed. (I also bought him a new commuter bike--cleverly labeled the "9.2.5"--for Christmas.) Meanwhile, I remain, and perhaps will always be, physically bike-averse. I fall. I stumble. It isn't pretty. I'm sure broken bones and crying will follow. (My friend, the amazing Steph, who started a biking non-profit, even offered to teach me and bundle me in pillows so as to cushion my fall. I am hopeless, however.)
OK, back to why I'm writing this rambling post: I came across the Sartorialist's bicycle posts a while back and fell in love. Look how darling and inspiring:
The first picture is of an American (yay!) in Brooklyn. Of course, I need to move to Brooklyn. Really.
Another chic girl in NYC, but in winter garb. Cute. Bikes with baskets are especially lovely. A more coordinated me would carry flowers and vegetables from the farmers market in that basket. Too bad a more coordinated me does not exist in real life.
This may be too ambitious a task for me today, as I am also re-arranging furniture, cleaning out my closet, writing a few other things, but I may just post a few pictures of our Portland biking counterparts. Stay tuned.