Monday, May 7, 2012

The Girl in the Green Fiat



The Girl in the Green Fiat

As a child, I used to pretend to be invisible, a game fairly easy to play when one is little.  Children are frequently looked over, or past, by grown-ups in the sea of strangers flowing through a department store or along a busy pavement and I could, in spite of my pint-sized stature, quite successfully become an international spy or runaway princess without ever attracting the sort of attention that would slam the fantasy shut.  If I couldn’t even be seen, well then, I could be anyone, now couldn’t I?  Another perk to being an only child, I suppose, as there wasn’t a sibling to call me out and spoil the fun.  My imagination ran unrestrained and I learned early on that observing was far more satisfying that being observed.
 Though I almost never play the invisibility game now, a bit of it still clings to my shoulders like fairy dust, requiring only a particularly evocative circumstance to swirl up and take shape once more.  On a nighttime train ride or sitting with Edward at a sidewalk cafe on a rainy afternoon, it remains, even now, difficult to resist pretending to be someone else, sure in the knowledge that I cannot be seen.  Ever the observer, I still stroll through my days feeling just a wee bit invisible and am always startled when someone stares my way or meets my gaze.
Therefore the circumstance in which I now find myself is unsettling to say the least, for ever since October when I fell in love with a pistachio green Fiat 500, my cloak of invisibility has evaporated like a poorly cast spell.  The Fiat is new to the states, and my particular colour is, apparently, a bit rare.  I have seen a red one, several white ones, and an especially attractive hunter green one, but it seems no one but me is currently behind the wheel of this certain shade of retro green.  I have become, quite accidentally and a bit disturbingly, The Girl in the Green Fiat. 

Old friends now follow me home, pulling up behind me in the drive with a gaily called, “I saw you leaving the library and just had to come by to say hello!”.   
A couple of weeks ago I was traveling roughly thirty miles up to a favourite nursery on a quest for a hard to find shade of pink verbena.  Upon pulling into the pine-needled lot, I heard the lady who works there yell out, “We were expecting you!  My son just called and said he saw you driving through the square.  We hoped you were heading our way!”.  
And just last week, all the way cross town, I was zipping merrily down the road, singing along with The Kinks, when my cell phone rang.  I answered it and heard the voice of a friend I hadn’t spoken to in a month or more.  “You just passed by!!  We’re getting cake!  Turn around and come back to join us!”. 

My little car, which I hasten to say that I love with a automotive passion heretofore unknown to me, attracts the sort of attention only a film star should warrant.  People motion for me to roll down the window at stop lights only to ask if I do, indeed, love it as much as I should.  And for any single women who happen to be reading this, I can verify that a pistachio green Fiat 500 is a man magnet of the first order.  I leave the cleaners only to find a crowd of gentlemen clustered round it, their noses pressed against the glass.  Men of a certain age, whose memory of this particular car and colour is no doubt tangled up with fleeting glimpses of pasta, Capri sunsets, and Anita Ekberg splashing around that fountain in Rome.  
For someone with my propensity for camouflage and masquerade, all this unsought attention is bewildering.  So I am making an appeal to all my readers.  Go out and buy this car!  Now!  Not only will you adore it beyond all imagination but, slowly, surely, one by little green one, these wondrous machines shall become ubiquitous, the spotlight currently beaming in my direction shall begin to dim and I, mercifully, shall become invisible once more.
 I assure you, I shall be forever grateful.


44 comments:

  1. Hello Pamela

    I can fully understand the dilemma you are in. I would love to help but an Irish Girl like me, driving a green car, would make them yell out "are ye still homesick for the ould sod, or St. Patrick's Day is over, take off the green mask"
    It is a beautiful car - would you consider painting it black?

    Helen xx

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hello Pamela:
    Oh, Pamela, we are green, no, Fiat Green, with envy. This is the very motor car, were we ever to return to car ownership, we should have immediately. It has all the qualities of style piled upon style which, we believe, will make it as iconic as once the Mini was. Lucky, lucky you. We wish you so much joy and pleasure from it although, we fear, you cannot from now on expect to be invisible.

    Such a wonderful post which has been a delight to read.

    ReplyDelete
  3. We are in the market for a new (well, gently used) car when we get to France in two weeks time. It won't do you a bit of good for us to buy the green Fiat :-) It is a lovely little car...surely a bit of notoriety is a small price to pay for the pleasure of driving it?

    ReplyDelete
  4. Edward and the Cinquecento .

    ReplyDelete
  5. Oh my, I want one now!!! I want to be the girl in the GREEN Fiat!!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Love the color - but I don't think it's to be had. I looked at the 2012 colors out of curiosity and saw a bright green that didn't look anything like Pistachio. I think you will continue to be a darling anomaly.

    ReplyDelete
  7. I love this car...plain and simple!

    ReplyDelete
  8. I looked some more and did see a Verde Chiaro (light green). Is that your color? It didn't look the same on my computer monitor. But it is definitely the best color. The car just had your name on it. But admit, isn't it kinda cool to have the only one around?

    ReplyDelete
  9. Helen's comment just made me spit out the soda I'd just sipped.

    Love this post.

    I don't drive a car now that I live in New York City, although I do regularly commandeer a subway car. I'll have to enjoy this vicariously.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Hi,
    Love that little car, love that green!
    but the best part is that furry driver!
    Marilyn

    ReplyDelete
  11. Ha! Great! However isn't that Brigit Bardot? Now that's a fantasy worth entertaining...and anyhow, so long as you have Edward, even if millions of well-heeled motorists drive identical cars, and maybe even if you trade yours in for a dull grey someday, you will never be invisible.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Love that shade of green, - it suits Edward to a T and I'm sure it's not only the car that attracts attention, Pamela, - enjoy it and learn to wave like the Queen....

    ReplyDelete
  13. Your car is a really gorgeous colour - no wonder it and its driver attract attention! Edward obviously loves it too:)

    ReplyDelete
  14. How brilliant Pamela.....I haven't had my car for long so I'm not in need of a new car at the moment but, oh how I would love such attention !! Our daughter, who lives in London, is in the market for a new car and she has said that she loves the Fiat 500 ( very economical and easy to park which is a must in London). I shall advise her to get it in pistachio.....and then, perhaps I can borrow it now and again and enjoy a little attention !!
    .....and how happy does Edward look in it ? He is obviously enjoying the attention too !! XXXX

    ReplyDelete
  15. I think the car is gorgeous.
    Edward looks like he is loving his new wheels.
    Do you hear the words " She went that way" echoing in your wake nowadays?
    Paul

    ReplyDelete
  16. We only children do have active imaginations, don't we!? I often read about women of a certain age being invisible, which has always suited me just fine - I can just get on with my business and am happy to be left to it. I seriously doubt, however, particularly with your flowing hair and your lovely shaggy dog you've ever been invisible. The car is lovely and I can see why it attracts attention. You've stirred up the neighbourhood big style!

    ReplyDelete
  17. The cinquecento is a great car, and suits you and Edward down to the ground.
    Your wonderful way of writing always draws me in Pamela, whatever the subject!
    have a lovely green weekend
    Sharon
    xx

    ReplyDelete
  18. Oh my, that is something! Great looking little car even if you do need to get used to fame!

    I know just what you mean of that feeling that one's cover has been broken. Reminds me of when I lived at the top of a small, Greek mountain village. I walked by everyone's houses to get to mine. Countless times, some grandmother sitting ont the steps would say - "oh, you had guests for dinner last night", or "You went shopping this morning" or whatever they wanted to report knowing about my life. It was all a bit unnerving as I thought I was slipping silently by the quiet houses, but any number of them had the village partol peering out the shutters!

    ReplyDelete
  19. Oh Pamela, your car is adorable!!!

    And like you, I daily get comments, smiles, thumbs-up and compliments even from men... who find my car unique and fun.

    I am the Girl in the Purple Beetle

    I've had this car for 9 years and I hope it never dies!!! It came in a pearlescent shade of lilac, a limited-edition color and I have only seen ONE other around, and rarely that one... but when I do see it I feel like someone has stolen my identity (and my purple car!)

    Like yours, it is a car that has the simple mission of
    Making People Smile.

    Does the Fiat come in a shade of violet? If so, perhaps I could be persuaded to trade in my sweet car.

    But probably not.

    Edward looks adorable in his new car! (I have photos of our 2 afghan hounds in mine : )

    What Fun,
    Violet

    ReplyDelete
  20. Pamela I adore your special little car with Edward peering out! Yes, there is really nowhere to hide!!

    I have featured an Interview with Tina from The Enchanted Home...

    xoxo
    Karena

    Art by Karena

    ReplyDelete
  21. Great post! But I don't think it would be useful for you if I buy one here in Spain...

    ReplyDelete
  22. Beautiful blog. Fantastic car and that loveable creature in the window is awesome. Edward is truly a beautiful companion.
    I love your car! Always wanted a Mini Cooper but maybe I need to change my mind. LOL With your beautiful blond hair, Edward sticking his majestic head out the window, and that neat green car, I can see why heads turn as you drive by. Your a vision of loveliness! Love that beautiful dog - he is pricelss.
    Hugs,
    Connie
    IN/FL

    ReplyDelete
  23. This is the car of my 18 year old daughter's dreams. She is very cross with us because we recently replaced our 21 year old Peugeot with a 'boring' Honda Jazz, chosen specifically because her clarsach (celtic harp) will fit in the boot plus take 2 passengers. The Fiat can just fit in the driver and the harp. We've had to break it to her that until she can afford to buy a car we have to have as versatile a car as possible for family use. She's even now planning how she can get part-time jobs while at university...

    ReplyDelete
  24. Such a happy sort of post, and with a picture to make me smile at the end. I like your little car. I'm still driving my rather (for here) noticeable red Miata, but I think it will soon be time to replace it.....

    ReplyDelete
  25. My friend Kim in Calif. has the exact same car/color as you! She's a petite blond with the most adorable black Scottie named Kilty, and they look awesome in their car.

    Did Edward past his driver's test first time? Just curious!!

    Anyway Pamela, drive carefully and stay safe......and enjoy every moment in the most delightful vehicle.

    Mary X

    ReplyDelete
  26. They are the sweetest cars Pamela... enjoy the attention... your pistachio Fiat is adorable and so is your story... I would love one... much cuter than my Landrover! ... xv

    ReplyDelete
  27. I love that photo ! lol ... the color of the auto is nice too.
    I daydream about having one of those little bitty cars, they are everywhere here in Buenos Aires, but when we move back to the US, we will be looking at one of those cars that is not quite a truck, not quite a station wagon and still a car that won't embarrass me ( I grew up in North Carolina, cars were important status symbols lol)

    ReplyDelete
  28. Yes, this little car is just too cute. Kinda like driving a car with a vanity license plate, isn't it! Does draw the lookers. This shade of green is a superb selection for blonds. :-)

    ReplyDelete
  29. oh good grief charlie brown!
    i seldom if ever covet.
    but i want one!!!!
    i want one.
    except i'd have to have long beautiful silvery golden hair, a puppy like edward and your flair...
    guess i'll have to keep the trusty old toyota.
    but in my imagination...
    well. you can imagine! toot toot!
    i'm in my fiat 500!
    love,
    tammy j

    ReplyDelete
  30. It is *gorgeous*! I long for a car like this someday. And I love that you let Edward in it (of course you do!)

    ReplyDelete
  31. Very smart Pamela, and I must say, Edward matches it perfectly.

    ReplyDelete
  32. Your car is such a lovely colour, very chic and stylish! There is an ice-cream pink one which parks around the corner sometimes which seems to have eyelashes attached to it front lights!! Edward looks just right in there:)

    ReplyDelete
  33. The dog and the car are both social assets I think!
    If I had a car, it would be the little Fiat too!

    ReplyDelete
  34. I do believe this is a Que sera!
    Que sera! moment Pamela. Anonymity
    must step aside when you toole in
    this green carriage wherein you become a princess. Seriously though
    I am sure your look grand!

    ReplyDelete
  35. I adore your car Pamela - in fact I saw one the other day and fell in love with it - I love the green colour too.

    ReplyDelete
  36. Brigitte Bardot is AWSOME in the pic:)love her... I really like your blog and I follow.

    If you want some swedish summer decor inspiration, you can check out my new post:)
    Have a great week.

    LOVE Maria at inredningsvis.se
    (Sweden)

    ReplyDelete
  37. Aww Edward! He clearly shares his momma’s taste for cute cars. My favorite shade of car is green too and I love the retro style. I will pass on that car tip to my single female friends. Do you think, though, that they might not be admiring Edward too? I love Mini Coopers too. Stylish and fuel efficient!

    ReplyDelete
  38. Very, very funny. I loved this. And look at him - he looks like the old Shaggy Dog movie. Didn't he drive a car?

    ReplyDelete
  39. I also wanted to say, I really enjoyed your story, how you wove your desire to be invisible into how un-invisible you have become as the Girl in the Green Fiat.

    absolutley DELIGHTFUL!!!!!

    ~ Violet

    ReplyDelete
  40. When my brother and I were young we also pretended we were invisible, while our parents entertained guest Brige-playing guests. In our minds, we thought being under the card tables and sneaking around the hallways meant we were out of sight (out of mind)..in other words, they ignored us, which made it more believable and fun! Now, blending in without drawing undue attention is still how I am.

    ReplyDelete
  41. Oh Pamela,
    I do not think with your beautiful blond hair and lovely smile you could ever be invisible, add Edward to the mix and I would guess that it is near impossible.

    I love your mint car, so cute, I can see it wizzing along the streets of Rome or Paris?

    I hope you have a wonderful weekend, Elizabeth

    ReplyDelete
  42. Your car is adorable. Mine is coming in next week in the same color - it's definitely the coolest color. Then there's the interior - wow! I used to have a Mini but I had to go for the Fiat this time. Can't wait to have mine!

    ReplyDelete

I love to read your comments! Each and every one! Though I'm always reading your comments, I may not respond in the comment section. If you want to write me directly, you may do so at pamela@pamelaterry.net. Thank you for reading!