Less Is More
By Candice Hightower Taylor
Is it sad when your car is one of your best friends? Fine. Go ahead and judge me, but if Devin was a puggle I would never have to apologize. What matters is we’re there for each other when it counts and she takes me places. Sounds like the friend zone to me. With all this love and happiness that Devin and I share you’d think I’d put little more of me into my SUV. You know, add a personal touch of Candice to the already fabulous crossover. A little bit of pink, sprinkles of green and a lot of leopard. To the contrary, she’s as blank as they come — no sparkle, no pizzazz, no dice. In fact, I’m still fighting with myself to put one of those nifty alumni frames around my rear license plate and I’ve completely ruled out personalized tags because CANDY-GIRL and DEVINS-MOM both seem like too much.
I am a self-proclaimed less is more kind of a gal, but I’m starting to wonder if I’m bordering on Plain Jane. I can deal with a scratch and suffer through a dent, but my greatest fear is Trick My Truck showing up at my door with scented trees and window decals. She’s perfect just the way she is and I don’t want to ruin her by making her my personal billboard on wheels. Still with all the look a likes out there I want more for her than just being a humdrum Stepford SUV. I see duplicates of Devin nearly everyday and the thought of her just being one of many is sad. In passing, I affectionately call the carbon copies her sisters, but there’s a small part of me that wishes she stood out from the rest. It’s like walking into a party flawless from head to toe and seeing yourself across the room – the same dress, shoes and clutch (that’s a purse, gentlemen). It deflates your world, not to mention the onset of regret for buying from the clearance rack.
I’ve been told that imitation is the greatest form of flattery, but spotting a mini-me in public is just so tragic. And I imagine Devin feels the same. OK, I’m no angel. The last time I purposely made myself someone’s fashion twin was just a decade ago, but never again (knock on wood grain). It was sorority induced, so yes, this time I give you permission to judge me. Did I fail to mention that I also pride myself in being unique? Let me tell you, it ain’t easy being green. I prefer boutiques to malls and pleated skirts to minis. Librarian with a twist of sequins is a conflicting, but never boring combo for me that on no account rendered Devin having any visible flair.
It intrigues me to see cars on the road that instantly tell me something about the schmo in the driver’s seat. Their kid’s on the honor roll, they bat for the vegan team or they’re still banking on the Kerry/Edwards ticket. It makes me wonder what Devin tells people about me on the open road. Can they tell I’m a Midwestern belle, the unabridged dictionary is my favorite book and I love Cuban food? Not a chance. It’s clear that the only thing Devin is spraying, in all her cream puff-colored glory, is that her mommy can pick a good car wash.
With that said, I am officially agreeing to gingerly jazz her up. I’ll be slow to accessorize the rear view mirror, take out ad space on the bumper or spring for leopard seat covers. Believe me, I need to take baby steps out of simple city. We’ll give it the old college try and start with showing some alumni pride. There’s no doubt Devin’s loved, so bumper sticker or not, she’s in no way less special to me. Even with hundreds of “sisters” on the road my BFF will always be one of kind if only because I am. But life would be so perfect if she could wear pearls. Maybe I’ll trade her in for a puggle.
Take It From Me: A great way to personalize your ride is right in front of you. Your in-car music selection is an expression of who you are and what moves you. What’s in your dash? I’ll admit to Here Come the Mummies. Whatever it is turn it up a couple notches, sing your heart out and celebrate being you on the inside.
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