I once had the worst crush on a boy who was into ska. We're talking one of those I-can't-even-look-him-in-the-eye crushes. He never knew my name. Probably for the best, as my creepy was definitely reaching "old pedophile" levels.
My best friend tolerated my drooling, and when the crush finally disappeared one day, she proceeded to mercilessly make fun of me. I totally deserve it.
I did have a thing for checkerboard patterns, a good brass section, and the sugary sounds of pop-princess-disguised-as-rebel-punk ska before the crush though [seriously, who can resist the Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra?]. And I still love the aesthetics; studded belts are still a must, checkerboard slip on Vans are key, and I love love love my black Chucks.
I understand how Avril-esque that might make me sound; and at 25, I'm way too old to be fronting like I belong in any kind of music scene. But old ID pictures of me with pink/red/orange/purple hair will bring an embarrassed grin to my face as I shake my head at how ridiculous I used to look.
Those same old nostalgic memories of my punkier days flooded back to me last weekend when I saw the spacers on my new bike. Given the sheer amount of pink on the bike, I was almost afraid that it would be too cute; an adjective that I don't tend to identify with. But the alternating silver and black spacers - Erich's signature touch, apparently - looks, well, amazing...and balanced...and though subtle, makes the bike just so much more me.
The spacers also balanced out the cranks and the chainring that got installed the other day as well. Having been tucked away under my bed, fueling dreams of new bike days and matching rims, I finally had a bike frame to put them on. The fruits of my sweatshop labor [Thanks Jason!] finally have a home. And a
pretty gorgeous one at that...!
As for the crush, I coincidentally ran into him last weekend as well. Still on my new bike high, I was giddy with excitement and smiling everywhere. He actually said something to me, and looked me in the eye and smiled. My bike-fueled happiness smiled back at him, effortlessly, before I turned and bounced out the door.
That better absolve me of at least some of the old pedophile creepiness.