My fanciest ride was this weekend, to a fundraising gala for a domestic violence organization I volunteer with. Deciding to ride my bike was natural, as I have no car and taking a cab would have been lame when I live only two miles from the location. I was a bit worried about hurting my silk, lace and beaded Badgley Mischka cocktail dress and silk Anne Klein heels – my one and only black tie outfit. Turns out I had no reason to worry: the ride was effortless in every way!

Mr. Dottie was quite dashing in his suit!! The volunteers working the door called us the “greenest couple ever” (though being “green” is not our primary reason for riding) and said that next year they would have valet bike parking for us. Later, an acquaintance said I must have ridden my bike because people in the coat check room were talking about how someone actually rode a bike, and she knew it had to be me. Why is it such a secret that almost anyone easily could do the same?

I did wear a helmet, my sleek black Bern. For my hair I went with a tousled look, throwing together a headband and a couple of little braids so my helmet couldn’t mess anything up. A thick headband is a great accessory for helmet hair.

The venue was a super cool vintage furniture showroom, which salvages and collects pieces from around the world for artistic re-use. While roaming through the merchandise on the upper floors, I fell in love with this old carousal from Argentina. If I had a house filled with rooms waiting to be filled with stuff and bunches of money, I totally would have bought this!

Argentinian Carousal
This vintage iron railroad sign was a more realistic find. I would love to display this in my home. In the context of the sign’s original use, perhaps the car was the vulnerable party, but in the context of my home, the car would be the antagonist, of course! Or maybe it refers to train cars. Too bad it’s quite expensive.

Vintage Railroad Sign

Finally, I must say that high heels are sorta evil. After a couple of hours standing around (and bourbon sipping), I remembered why I never wear heels anymore – ouch. Cycling in them, however, was no problem at all.








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