I have a friend who swears she will put it in her wedding vows that she will never, ever drive a minivan. In fact, if her future husband even suggests it, the marriage is off and she gets everything. I personally think she is brilliant, fantastic, incredible… Oh okay, it’s me. You can judge. It’s fine. And as long as we’re being honest here, I’ll admit, I am currently single and childless. (Perhaps this is because I want to put a no-minivan, no-touching-the-radio-stations-in-my-car clause in my vows. My mother seems to think so.) No matter, I have an army of mami friends and I regularly judge their fleet of vehicles as we sit in traffic with their kids screaming about whatever kids scream about and I turn up the radio to drown them out. Yup, I’m that friend. But I have my good points. For one, I insist that my friends join me for drinks and girls getaways on a regular basis. And, if they want to take turns driving on these escapades, I also insist that we ride with at least a modicum of style.