I bought my first car in 2005, I was 21 and had just walked away from a terrible, abusive marriage. I fell head over heels for a bright yellow VW bug I called Daisy and drove off the lot with the largest “high on life” feeling I’d had in months and months. My Dad (the most sensible man I know who has only ever owned a car that is white or silver) called me a few days later wondering if I had buyer’s remorse over such a bright, shiny, LOUD, always-going-to-be noticed auto choice. I told him that I smiled every single time I saw that round yellow car, and that if anything could make me smile every day it was worth more than diamonds.

So, with that introduction, it is probably important to note that I have perhaps a slightly high expectation of feelings that should be generated by a vehicle. But, even so, there it is.

Fast forward a decade: Daisy was totaled in 2008 in a terrible car accident (which I still ache from on a regular basis, btw), and as the economy tanked, and my paycheck along with it, my car choices (or, rather, the leftover very-used cars I found fit into my budget) became much darker, more dull, and more sensible. And more often than not, rusty around the edges. Lately I’ve been driving a mostly functional sedan that was picked out by Blue Eyes’ x-wife 8 or 9 years ago; it was nicer than my previous 2 vehicles, for sure, but it never really fit me and with that kind of pedigree it certainly never made me smile.

Two weeks ago all of that changed.

Blue Eyes and I have been talking about replacing my car for over a year, and in all those discussions I always hoped for an end result that put me over-the-moon, but the practical adult in me realized that 21-year-old Harriet and 31-year-old Harriet should not necessarily have the same wish list for vehicles. But, I also knew that if we were going to spend thousands and thousands of dollars on something, it damn well better be smile-inducing! (Delicate balance, that is, by the way.) Blue Eyes found what turned out to be the exact combination of compromise of both of our dream cars, we took it for a test drive, confirmed that it was everything we had been looking for, and the price was right in our range.

A few hours later she was mine. (Blue Eyes says “ours” but we both know that term is really just a formality.)

I woke up several times that night to check the driveway, just to make sure she was still there. I took myself on a long solo drive–something I had never considered in the practical sedan, or either of the two predecessor vehicles.

Two weeks later and I still get butterflies when I come around the house and see her sitting there in all her shiny glory. I am completely in love. The Mini is far fancier than I think Blue Eyes or I ever intended, we are constantly pulling out the manual to figure out what that  button does, or how to change this or that setting. And then the fanciness just continues to awe us.

The photos may look like she’s just a regular bright, shiny red, but in actuality the color is more orangey-red. In my opinion, all love’s must have names, and the cars* (and computers, and vacuums, and flashlights, and pianos) that I have owned or lived with in previous lives have all been named (Ira, Hoovie, Maggie, and Sergei, respectively). I am leaning towards naming her Persimmon, and calling her Perci/Persi/Percy, but I am also open to suggestions.

Daaah, she’s just so…perfect. More photos here.

Do you love your car? Appreciate it’s functionality but are not attached? Do you think cute or fun cars are a worthy investment? Or are you far more practical than I am? What is your dream car? And your “more attainable” dream car?

*Previous vehicles, make, model, color, and name (or lack of):

1993 maroon Jeep Cherokee: Mjölnir (long, long story, and not nearly as relevant in 2004 as it is now, thank you Marvel)
2004 yellow VW Bug: Daisy Mae
2008 red VW Bug: Roxy
1998 teal/rust Dodge Neon: Mallard
1995 black(ish) Mazda 6: Mazdaratti (sarcasm font)
2005 red Chevy Impala: The car not good enough for a name, I usually referred to it as “Blue Eyes’ damn car.” Can’t you feel the love?