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30th of March 2009 | 17:30 GMT | Emanuelle Vandelay
A Woman's Encounter with a Bentley
I kept thinking about this during those moments. All that came through my head were silly things, little advices that young ladies are getting in Cosmopolitan. I entertained myself with my driver, telling him about the ten steps necessary for your meeting with the one. Is this number of steps sufficient for the meeting with Her, also? The tame lipstick, lots of mascara, the ballet shoes and the lacy dress, the silk stockings, the complicated floral perfume with musk, the carefree smile, rebel curls, Dior powder. He looked at me puzzled and I felt like a woman who doesn't understand anything. Dumfounded.
I was ashamed to say anything else and we kept waiting in silence, with me agonizing with the same ideas/images. After all, why not? I met the love of my life in an Italian restaurant of an exquisite elegance, with classical music playing in the backround. I was wearing sneakers and I swear that I had ventured all day through the rain in a nearby park. He was wearing a soft silk jacket in which I wanted to cuddle right in the moment I saw it. That didn't happen exactly then, some more moments had to pass...
Time quickly ran out and suddenly there She was, right in front of me. Shining in the dusk of the old city. I could hardly guess its color, although I did observe the fact that it was waxed. Then I stepped into the black panther and I felt its color while getting inside. I got on the front passenger seat - I am an excellent co-pilot – since I wanted to feel it like the car in which I ride every day. What I'm telling you know aren't secrets. I adjusted my seat in every way possible and I swear to you I didn't manage to find a way in which to feel Comfortable. Probably because of the clothes I was wearing, it was the Comfort which I first searched in it.
My travel partner tried to cheer me up. With his pointing finger, he drew the silver watch keeping an eye on the whole dashboard. An old remnant in a new city of glass and metal. He slipped his finger on the impeccable stitches, reminding me of the workshop I had previously seen in the pages of a colored magazine, where silver-haired men were knitting the threads with care. The smell of leather surrounding you ruthlessly, grabbing hold of you and never letting you go... He was bewitched!
What came next? Quiver, maximum acceleration, braking, paved-roads, the quietness of a forest – since from where I was sitting I couldn't hear any engine... I was wrong, it wasn't a panther, it was something much more agile, without that recoil movement you encounter in other classic luxury limousines at the red of the stoplight. For the first time I felt I could sit in the rear also. I trusted Her, I didn't need to look after it on the road any longer. We had braked enough times. I stepped out, shut the door and stepped in the rear, letting myself be seduced by the alcove. An alcove not like the ones in The Book of One Thousand and One Nights, but a much more practical one, with mini-LCD screens and a retractable curtain which didn't wave, but which you could close at the flick of a switch, aggravating curious people at stoplights.
I asked my travel companion to put on some music. I couldn't listen to it though, since the engine note came from the rear of the car. My driver would have loved to sit in my place, with me in his... hence the unspoken discontent. I protested, the driver lifted his eyebrows, felt that wasn't my place and I stepped out. Now I knew I hadn't been prepared at all. And although I declared that it wasn't at all suiting my tastes, I gave it a thought the following days and I figured it didn't work out because of me.
I hadn't been prepared for it at all. I could have been as seductive as her and we would have found some common points in it; we would have had a long-lasting relationship. Sadly I only had one chance. Two hours, maybe even less, time in which I didn't seduce it, I just rode in it with my sports shoes. This is not how it's done!
Otherwise, the relationship can end prematurely. The way it happened with Her. With the Car. I didn't even gave Her the chance to discover me. Maybe we were the same. My attitude ruined everything. Now I know I have to prepare myself for Her.
It's a classic, so first you have to be a man to seduce it. A man out of his youths, who is already aquainted with himself. A man with a "plaid suit with very thin blue seams, brown neck tie with skewed light-blue streaks, brown shoes with laces", right out of the latest book about style. He must go through Anderson&Shepard. Here, on 30 Savile Row he will find the followers of the famous master Frederic Scholte. He is the creator of the famous twill suit, considered to be the epitome of British elegance and worn in many of his movies by Fred Astaire. He used to say that he felt the most comfortable in them.
He also must not miss Budd, for a perfect tie, with hand-sewn buttons. I would advise the gentleman to pay a visit to Asprey, one of the most exclusive accessories places in the world. From the most expensive leather and the best made metal he could create himself a personalized line of wallets which might even look like Her. I would end the trip at Edward Green, a retro shoe maker, the only retro shoes in the world. They have been hand-stitching the same model for fifty years.
Only in this context I could fall in love with Her. I would forget all about my back problems and I would dream it during every walk through the rain in the old city's park.









