Normally I check Gilt Groupe for handbags, but today at noon I am checking it for Vespas, so as to fulfill my childhood dream of being the leader of a Vespa-lady gang.

Basically, this is how I thought a Vespa lady-gang would go:

I would get together some of my closest friends once we were grown up – 25 – and I was living with Johnny Depp in France. My friends would all be living there, in France, too, with similar celebrities, although ones who were not quite as good as Johnny Depp. Because, really, who was? Who was? Then, halfway through our days of being married to celebrities in France we would take time to don pink jackets like the kind Rizzo wore in Grease and hop on Vespas and ride through the streets making little roaring sounds, terrifying old women carrying bread. Vroom, vroom, vroom, we’d say, or maybe the Vespa motors would do that for us, I didn’t know how cars worked. Vroom, vroom, as we grabbed produce from the green market as we passed, geriatric Frenchmen in their berets shaking their fists at us angrily. Because we’d be rebels! All our Vespas would be different colors, like the rainbow! Mine would be pink! Vroom! For reasons unknown to me, our celebrity husbands would find this hilarious and not “incredibly, astonishingly bad PR.”

In conclusion, I hear Johnny Depp is thinking about marrying Vanessa Paradis, I no longer have any desire to live in France and steal produce. Most of the time.

That’s all. Oh, and shop Gilt. Vroom.