#and I didn't have a bright enough yellow for Lewis' number and helmet BUT I still think it looks really pretty

[racingliners]

Silverstone ready!*

(* - to spend the entire weekend on the living room sofa watching F1 on TV and yelling about it on the hellsite)

Full list of all the polishes I used under the cut, if anyone's interested

Avon - Platinum Petal (metallic silver) Butter London - British Racing Green (dark green) Essie - Licorice (black) OPI - Red Hot Rio (red), No Tan Lines (orange), I Just Can't Cope-acabana (yellow), I'm Sooo Swamped (green), OPI... Eurso Euro (blue), I Manicure for Beads (purple), Suzi & the 7 Düsseldorfs (metallic purple), I'm Yacht Leaving (teal), You're Royal Shine-ness (silver), Servin' Up Sparkle (silver glitter), Alpine Snow (white), How Does Your Zen Garden Grow? (lime green)

[asurashi]

There's just something abt Lewis Hamilton

Something about how this man from lower class roots knocked his way into the karting scene, with his father taking up 4-5 contract works at a time just so they can afford to send him into races and tourneys.

Whose father handpainted his helmet a bright neon yellow just so they can track him in the thick dust of the race track. I keep thinking about his tiny hands gripping the steering wheel, eyes on the track, yellow identifier, going 'I'm here! I'm here! Are you watching?'

I think about this child, just 10, barely out the cradle, newly crowned champion with steady eyes and trembling hands going up to the CEO of McLaren Group asking for a seat in the racing team.

I think about this child in his teenage years getting expelled for something he didn't do, whose headmaster said 'I finally have enough to get rid of you', who had to face the harsh reminder of forever being the 'other' throughout his life.

Sometimes I think about him, fresh faced and hungry, winning 4 races in his debut season and a world championship title just the next year, a monster rookie, legend in the making.

I think about Micheal Schumacer, 7 time World Champion, when asked about Lewis breaking his record, he replied with 'You've seen him drive, you would know. [...] I'm not bothered. Records were meant to be broken.'

Often I think about him; biting, clawing his way through the years, race after race in spite of the boos and the slurs; always at fault, damned if you do, damned if you don't. How he kept his head high, Maya Angelou inscribed on his back, 'Still I Rise', for all the world to see.

I think about him, soft-spoken with a bite, not perfect but always trying, striving for improvement. I think about him, music lover, fashion enthusiast, NASA dork, giggling with his RC car on the paddock with his dog trotting along. Grown ass man, child at heart - living his dream.

Sometimes I think about him still being the only black driver in the grid. How vocal he is about activism, how he's aware of the power he holds, of how many eyes are watching. I think about how he had half of the grid kneel with him, and how Mercedes changed their car from silver to black in a show of support.

I think about how even until this day, he's still one of the few drivers that constantly give back to his community, opening the doors for others, speaking out for the sport to do better.

Is this an overly romanticized reading into his public persona? Perhaps. Could he be an asshole in private? Maybe.

But numbers speak, achievements shine. He is a trailblazer, endlessly chasing greatness.

Steady hands with a wink and a smile.

'Here I am. Are you watching?'