FYI - Written by our former blog member, Marnie

Last Wednesday I passed a 30-something, stylish woman wearing a clean blonde ponytail, black turtleneck and black gloves. She was driving a red BMW 325is. Mid-‘90s. Perfect. Yups-ville. She deserved a 7. The look was right. The hair was right. Even the gloves were right. What a BMW person. And I did not mean this in a positive way.

Those of you who know me might be chuckling a bit to yourselves. OK, maybe throwing your head back, hysterically laughing and pointing at your monitor.

I drive (more and more lately) a black, 1994 BMW 325is. Yes. It’s our second car. We purchased it on somewhat of a whim while test-driving what was to be my practical, good-mileage-getting city car, a Golf TDI. My husband saw it on the used car lot and fell instantly in some kind of weird “never really liked BMW’s but, hey haven’t ever owned one and lots of people like them and look at the price and the miles (LOW LOW LOW!)” and how clean it is” car love. He started doing the “value math” that he does and the car, which I named Drakker Noir, was parked in front of our flat within the week. I refused to drive it, the condition being that if he insisted on purchasing that car against my better judgment (instead of the cute red TDI), the Audi was to be my car.

The next thing I know, we’re now swapping cars every week. Ick.

My first few weeks consisted of getting used to the smell (manly), being comfortable with the fact that “someone might see me driving a BWM” – a car I had strong, not so nice, opinions about (see first paragraph) – and trying not to have fun with the sport shift. “At least it’s not a new BMW or a 5-series” was my comfort. I felt like an imposter. My friends asked “what happened to your Audi?” I wept. I comforted myself with “At least it has mid-nineties character (if anyone can tell me what that is, I’ll let you take ‘er for a test drive).” And I always manage a good laugh with the Drakkar Noir one-liner.

A year later and I drive the BMW (I will never call it a “bimer” or “beemer”) more often than not. To my surprise, I LIKE IT. It’s quick and nimble: a fast-shifting, motor-rumbling stealth car. It’s loud. Obnoxious. I refuse to have the exhaust quieted. I don’t mind the lack of CD player and have pulled from my collection of music tapes from the mid ‘90s (those were good years!) so I always have genre-specific music (very important in a used car). Very entertaining for passengers.

And then there are the back pop-out windows (see David’s post on March 13). Open those puppies, peel back the sun roof and you get perfect (non hair mussing, clean air pumping, highway suitable) ambient wind. Sun on your head, wind wafting around the cabin. Who CARES if the air doesn’t work? Whenever I drive the car, the windows/roof are in this position. If it’s cold, I turn on the heat and aim it towards my feet (works best in all cars even when you have the windows closed: your feet stay toasty and the heat rises nicely to warm your hands – who wants hot air being blown at their face anyway?).

Have I converted to a BWM lover? Well, perhaps a liker. I do appreciate any old 2002 (ah, the car shape as it was meant to be – from the imagination of crayon wielding kindergartners) and I can’t get enough of the 2002 745i. What a stylish looking tank of a car -- like a well-built quarterback. And give me a moderately trafficked city street with synchronized lights, my pop out windows, a ‘90s compilation tape called “music to drive balls to” made by my brother-in-law and I’m inclined to smile spontaneously while driving good ‘old Drakkar Noir.

Last week I drove the ’01 Audi S4 Avant. Uberwagon. I actually said, out loud, “hmm, I think the BMW is more fun to drive than this car. Shifting is more natural, the seats are more comfortable, the dog certainly likes it better…” and then I caught myself. Smiling.