I am not a car person. I can just about tell a mini from a motorhome.
And yet, it is impossible not to fall in love with these old classics that cruise Havana’s streets
I don’t know their names and casual address feels almost a little improper. I can’t describe them, only let them show themselves.
When you are stretched out on a pink leather seat, as big as a couch, it is hard not to see yourself, glowing softly in black and white, with a name fit to go up in lights… so this post is for faded former glory, for showy and shallow, big, beautiful, gaudy, gorgeous.