If I title this entry using the lyric 'love can build a bridge', it is possible that I may even out goof myself...

As certain as it is that the fifties had the best fashion, it is a known fact to anyone who knows me that I do like a bit of romance in my world.  I’m not a girly girl (bar my lack of trouser ownership), but I love the idea of love.  Simple.  I like reading about ‘grande passions’, I like romantic movies and yes rose tinted glasses make me happy - so this morning I decided to pop them on whilst reading through the headlines. Now the headlines today began with a rather gloomy focus on the murdered father and his three children, the Olympics security (or lack of) and a Miami Cannibal – now I know that my boyfriend would much rather focus on the Cannibal option, but luckily I was alone on the train, leaving the story selection to my choice. Anyhoo, I digress, I came across a story about the padlocks on the Parisian bridges the Pont des Arts, Passerelle Léopold-Sédar-Senghor and the Pont de l'Archevêché.

You see, couples go to the bridges and lock a padlock to the railings or nearby tree, to signify their love or to make a wish. Although the story focused on Paris ( I mean, most romantic capital would edge the locational bets), it’s also happening in Rome and now even London. I think it stems from Fengyuan in Taiwan, where love padlocks are affixed to an overpass at the city's train station - these locks are known as "wish locks" and local legend holds that the magnetic field generated by trains passing underneath will cause energy to accumulate in the locks and fulfill the wishes. Now as much as I like the thought of magick, after a week of commuting via train to and from work, I am certainly not convinced that trains make your wishes come true. Especially when yesterday, the train was not only late, but also leaking.

Instead I decided to look for a more romantic story to attach to the notion. Rome had its own explanation saying that the ritual of affixing love padlocks to the bridge Ponte Milvio can be attributed to the book I Want You by Italian author Federico Moccia. Aha - now I was getting somewhere, an italian book called ‘I want you’ is more romantic than a taiwanese train, but as I have not read the book, I was still not satisfied…and then I found out about the Most Ljubavi. This bridge is in Serbia, and based on the padlocks appearing upon it is now called the ‘Bridge of Love’. Aha – this was a good start.

The story attached to the Serbian Padlocks go back to World War 2 – not the most romantic setting, but bear with me. There was a woman called Nada, and she fell in love with a Serbian officer named Relja. The couple got engaged, but then war broke out and Relja was posted to Greece, whilst in Greece he fell in love with another woman and broke off their engagement. The story says that Nada never got over the sadness and died of a broken heart. The young girls from her village of Vrnjacka Banja wanted to protect their hearts and began writing the names of their loved ones on padlocks and locked them onto the railings of the bridge where Nada and Relja used to meet.

So it turns out my romantic story, was not actually romantic – in fact it was tragically sad. I guess it makes the locks more poignant though – because life does change, and so do people, but, whether or not the ‘owners of the locks’ love lasts or not, is kind of irrelevant in my mind, it’s how they felt at that moment in time. You see, although I like to argue whether or not it’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all, when you are in love and have your loved returned, well those moments make the markers of your life, and I like the idea of passers-by knowing that for that exact moment in time, the unity was unbreakable.

The couple in the modern day story, threw one key into the river under the bridge, and brought the other key with them home to the UK. The key is kept with their will for the story to live on. Now, this all seems a little far-fetched, as just like with the scrawling on the Abbey Road sign, it is a little naive (even for a romantic like me) to believe the lock will stay there. You see in Paris, Canada, Florence, Dublin and Germany the councils have already been working to remove the padlocks because they detract from the architecture…but in a weird twist of fate, I believe that by having them there, you are adding to the romance of the city – which is more than any naked bridge can hope to do alone.

There you have it, rose tinted glasses on a Tuesday morning. Oh and if you wish to read the full article about the love locks – here it is: www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2172901/The-lock-love-For-years-couples-world-left-padlocks-bridges-tokens-love-Now-Britons-unlocking-inner-passions-too.html

1.       Oh and just in case said boyfriend ever stumbles across my blog – this is the cannibal story, for his own amusement:  www.dailymail.co.uk/.../Revealed-Miami-cannibal-Rudy-Eugene-met-victim-horrifying-attack.html

When you wear lapels like a swell, isn't that swell

I have decided that in my own rather twisted way, I can be quite stylish. This is both flattering and concerning. Ok, before I sound completely egotistical I shall explain… firstly my stylish décor was complimented by two random strangers passing my home. They liked the bunting, door sign and house name that they felt the need to knock on my door to tell me so. Flattering because my teapot bunting is appreciated, concerning as they were kind of, well, old. Hmmm.
Ok, second endorsement; pretty much occurs when I’m at a bar, when drunken women like to compliment my dress or outfit. Flattering because they like my choice of apparel, concerning because they are drunk, white stiletto wearing oranges. I was complimented at work for my ‘interesting’ style… flattering because my quirky style is noted, concerning because it was called ‘interesting’…a worrying terminology I am sure you’ll agree. Well then, that is all of the context setting I plan to do for this entry.

Now, I have never been one to follow a crowd, I like to be my own person and generally dance to my own tune. I like the idea of inspiring people, but if you instigate a wave of nu-like people, does that mean I become more like others – thus defeating my purpose?

Last year, the bestie started buying into the vintage world and joined me in my 50’s frockery and hair fleurs (a look that she totally rocks and looks amazing in) which is all rather fabulous. Then my mum decided she too was going to find her inner nic-ness and joined the world of swing dresses earlier this year (which I have to say also look stunning). The latest addition to my vintage va-vooms is my sister, who has recently purchased my favourite designers style of halterneck fabulousness (I can’t comment on how this looks, because I am yet to see it on, but I can pretty much guess it will look lovely). Now, lets apply the flattering / concerning quota…

I adore the fact that I can influence other peoples wardrobes, I mean, poor lemmings can only dream of such influence as they follow whatever vacuous Barbie is featured in The Sun gossip pages, so in that respect am flattered, but part of me is a little concerned that with so many me’s, I may become less of a me and more of a them. Not that I don’t want to be a them, because these three woman are all utterly fabulous, but I like being anything but ordinary, ridiculously that is who I am and if I’m not me, then who am I?

Now if this entry was a Monty Python sketch, I would be interrupted at this point because this is getting ‘too silly’, so I am going to shhh now, as I am losing my mind by trying to establish if I am losing me…Yes, you can tell that I have had huge concerns on my mind today…grey matter clearly not taxed enough – or far too much thinking time spent commuting…must reach over and grab the abandoned ‘Times’ on the seat across from me to make self at least look like I have a molocum of sense.

Baby you can drive my car

...because I sure as hell don't want to.

After 10 years of bikerism, I had the inkling to sell out and conform. By this I don't mean getting a black helmet instead of a pink one, nor do I mean getting a Harley instead of my Vespa, nothing as acceptable as the aforementioned. Oh no. I mean learning to drive a crazy four wheeled death trap (also known as a car). 

You know how you always felt drawn to driving a car? Well I was always drawn towards bikes. I have never (and will never) want to drive a car. No matter how much people like to sell the benefits,it just doesn't excite or inspire me. No, I am perfectly happy on two wheels. Unfortunately, society has other ideas and car driving is a requirement. A very annoying requirement. 

I then have two options - do I learn in a manual or automatic? If I learnt in an automatic I could learn far quicker, pass my test sooner, but it also means that I cannot get my vintage car. Where as if I learn in a manual it will take longer, be harder and...well take longer is the general bone of contention. I'm not a patient person. Everything that I do, needs doing yesterday. I am also a perfectionist. So the process of getting things wrong and taking a long time about it is not something that pleases me. 

I have just got back from my second lesson...have I enjoyed myself? Nope. Do I remember any of it? Nope. Was I deliriously happy to get back to my bike? YES YES YES! Bikes make sense to me - cars do not. 

I can do the gear changing,that's easy, but the whole steering thing is a hassle. Why do you have to learn to do it properly? Lets face it, the minute I pass,I will do it my own way anyway. I think that's the bit that frustrates me - no-one drives like they should, so why carry on the pretence that I will? If I manage to do the manoeuvre my way - why do I have to learn it your way?

If I could drive my way - this learning lark wouldn't be so fraustrating - admittedly, it would be slightly hit or miss (hahaha - literally) but...darn it, I do not have the patience to abide by other peoples rules.