MISS NUDE WORLD IS A MOTORCYCLE RIDER – WHO KNEW?
I first met Isabelle Deltore in person when she sashayed – and I do mean sashayed – into Melbourne’s Indian showroom during my second book launch. She was wearing a pair of work-out pants and a little top, but she might as well have been wearing a neon micro-bikini and a bowl of cocaine on her head. The place simply stopped dead and gawped. This is pretty much what happens whenever Miss Deltore walks into a room. To say that she is a knock-out to behold is a vast understatement. She is certainly that, but she is also more than that, because she does not at all fit the cliched paradigm of the stripper.
Isabelle Deltore is intelligent, articulate, supremely self-confidant, ridiculously fit, impossibly sex, the reigning Miss Nude World, an exotic dancer of some renown – and a motorcycle rider.
As the editor of Australia’s finest men’s interest magazines, Picture Premium and Premium Babes, I have seen lots of Isabelle. In fact, I have seen all of Isabelle. I have put her on the cover of my magazines twice, and I plan to do that a few more times before she reaches her use-by date. As the editor, I am able to appreciate her charms with a professional detachment, and have spent many hours doing just that. But when I discovered that apart from dancing in fuck-me heels, Isabelle also rides an MV Agusta, I figured such an occurrence was worth a yarn.
Yes, we all dream of finding an impossible hottie astride a stunning motorcycle at the lights and are invariably disappointed when it turns out she’s not so hot or she’s just a slim-hipped boy under the helmet and leathers. Until the day you pull up next to Isabelle and discover that dreams do indeed come true.
Nice rabbit, huh?
Yes, she does go to the beach wearing that. And unless you can knife-fight, it’s probably not a good idea to be escorting her onto the sand.
Go on, Make a squid comment. I dare you.
Me: I’m gonna be rude right off the bat and insist you tell me your age.
Isabelle: I’m 32.
Me: What do you ride?
Isabelle: I have a white 2012 MV Agusta F3 675
Me: Why did you buy that bike?
Isabelle: I was ready to upgrade from a LAMS-approved bike to something with more grunt. I’m not a big girl, so I thought that something in the 600 range would be ample. I researched all the available sports bikes in the 600 class and I found I was struggling to find a bike that would fit me. I wasn’t really sold on any of the Japanese sports bikes and the option of purchasing, say, a Triumph Daytona, was out of the question because the seat height way too tall for me. Then a sales guy walked me over to a MV Agusta 675 Brutale. It just felt right as soon as I sat on it. But didn’t want a “naked”. Enter sales guy with a pamphlet on the F3. That was it. I had to have it…. in white. The one thing I will admit though, is I’m just kicking myself now that I didn’t get the Serie Oro. That’s the only regret I have about this purchase.
Me: What did you ride before that?
Isabelle: Just a 250 Ninja. Standard learner bike, nothing special.
Me: You’re probably one of the girliest girls I have ever seen. That being the case, riding filthy bastard motorcycles doesn’t seem to be the thing girly-girls want to do. Why did you decide you wanted to ride a bike?
Isabelle: My dad had always rode trail bikes since the 80’s. We’d go on weekends away just to ride. Then in my teens, I got into pit bikes for fun. We kept getting chased out of industrial wastelands in Melbourne by the cops. So I soon got sick of that. Although it was always so funny afterwards. I went and got my license and a real bike. No more being chased out by cops on orange KTM’s!
Yep. Still impossibly hot.
Me: How often do you ride?
Isabelle: To be truthful, I’m a fair-weather rider. But because I live in the city, I absolutely love riding at night. There is hardly any traffic and no idiots to cut you off or idiot Econovan drivers who try and run you into the wall of the Burnley tunnel. True story. But I’d say weekly over spring, summer and some of autumn.
Me: I will only forgive such weakness because you’re kinda cute. I have a weakness for cute girls. Ask anyone. What’s your favorite stretch of road?
Isabelle: I love a challenge and most anything with a few good bends is a challenge for me. I’m a girl and I ride like a girl. I do my best to keep up with the boys, but I’m certainly no Marquez. My absolute favorite thing is to flick my visor up and boot it along the docks in Melbourne at night. It’s my favorite scenery in the world.
Me: Have you been on the track?
Isabelle: I have. I took the 250 to an all-girls track day in Broadford a few years ago. I felt really out of place and spent most of the day hiding behind my dad. I found most of the chicks there are really masculine; it’s just not my thing. The track however… I love being on the track.
Me: What bike do you think says “Sexy” better than any other bike?
Isabelle: The Confederate Hellcat X132. I need this bike in my life. I saw it at a bike expo and lost it. I don’t know why. I just love the way it looks and the way it sounds.
“If I win you have to buy me shoes.”
Me: What’s the fastest you’ve ever ridden? Do not lie. I shall know.
Isabelle: Up about the 190k mark. I can’t be too sure. I had one eye up the road, one on the speedo, and just fighting the wind hoping not to get blown off the back.
Me: Do the cops hassle you much?
Isabelle: Sometimes. One particular incident I had was at six in the morning. I was on my way to a photoshoot and running late as usual. I was on a nice wide road in an industrial area of Melbourne approaching a stale red light. I was splitting two semi-trailers when the lights turned green. I kind of panicked and I rolled my wrist around and got some revs up. My intention was to change from 1st to 2nd gear, but instead I found neutral. Now I was really pissed off and embarrassed, I stomped the bitch into 2nd gear and took off out of that little spot of bother. I tucked in behind the screen and tried my damnedest to keep my front wheel down. I suppose I better mention at this point I was coming out of a 70km/h zone into a 60km/h zone. Right where a traffic cop had set up a radar gun on the centre median. I had no idea he was there until I saw the blues. This is one of those moments when you think to yourself, “Self. Do you keep the throttle pinned back and hope to God your good enough to outrun the cop car? Or do I try and talk my way out of this?” I decided to try my luck and flirt my arse off, so I pulled over. The cop flew from the driver side with an expression on his face like I’d just committed some kind of human atrocity. I immediately ripped of my helmet hoping the blonde hair would help. So as Mr Policeman swaggers up towards the back of my bike, and blurts out: “Do ya know how fast you were going?”
I flashed him a sheepish grin. “To be honest, I have no idea. I was too busy trying to keep the front-end down.” A little more flirting, a few names of men’s magazines I’ve been in might have been mentioned and a little more cheekiness followed until finally, I was able to establish that he’d clocked me at somewhere upwards of 120Km/h. My response was “Well it’s lucky I didn’t get into 3rd gear then hey.” (Insert head toss and cheeky giggle) All in all, I got a massive lecture and a warning. Thank God.
Having said all that, there’s a lot to be said for proactive policing. For the rest of my trip I rode like a nanna.
Not like any nanna I’ve ever seen.
Me: That’s fucked. I’m writing to police commissioner. You should have been shot. I would have been shot. Is this what happens when the cops realise you’re a girl?
Isabelle: If they know what my bike is, they usually freak. Other than that, I usually get a look that says: “Oh it’s a hot chick on a cool bike”. It’s weird. They pick me straight away if my hair is not tucked into my jacket. They just think I’m an Asian dude if I tuck it in. Sometimes I get hit on too.
Girls and selfies. It is what it is.
Me: What are your five favorite bikes and why?
Isabelle: Well my MV F3 of course. She just wants to go. She’s definitely not a lady to ride. I’d then say the Hellcat. That bike is my unicorn. I’ll never have a spare $60 thousand to get one. Or the room. Then I’d say my 675 Daytona. I have one that I picked up at auction for a track bike. I’m still working on it though. The Daytona is a nice ride. A smooth operator, if you like. And I do have a soft spot for an old-school custom Bonneville. They are so James Dean. Super hot. Lastly, I love getting out on the dirt. However, every time I get out on a dirt bike. I come off, without fail. Since I work for myself, I don’t get any sick pay. So a broken arm or my whole butt covered in bruising isn’t cool.
Me: This is the question of the century. Men on Harleys or men on sports bikes? What does it for you?
Isabelle: I’ve had mixed experiences with both. I think a gentleman on a bike that screams class is hot. A man who clearly looks after his bike is hot. I’ve come across plenty guys who are just plain jerks. And no matter what they ride, they are just so unattractive. Riding like a jerk isn’t hot. Challenging me to a “race” isn’t hot. Especially when it’s followed with the statement “If I catch you, I get to fuck you”. Yeah that’s not hot either. Being treated as a fellow bike enthusiast is most definitely hot.
So know you all know. And you no longer have to ask. You may follow and friend Miss Deltore on Facebook. And there are places you can go and see her, all of her, if you’re so inclined. She won’t mind. Seriously.
About the Author
Boris is a writer who has contributed to many magazines and websites over the years, edited a couple of those things as well, and written a few books. But his most important contribution is pissing people off. He feels this is his calling in life and something he takes seriously. He also enjoys whiskey, whisky and the way girls dance on tables. And riding motorcycles. He's pretty keen on that, too.
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