Patrick, here you go: Mathilda, so named as it seemed like a strong Dutch female name for my Work Cycles Ladies Secret Service. (Digression: I bought the bike direct from the Netherlands. The local dealers (I lived in the Bay Area at the time) all wanted more money, and worse, a long wait, because the largest women's size was a special order. I rode one size down at a nice little bicycle shop at the Town & Country mall in Palo Alto, across from Stanford. Workcycles had the matte black in stock, the exchange rate was decent, and most shockingly UPS Air shipping was really affordable (under $200), so I wired the money. 2013 seems like forever ago.)
I liked the Mathilda verse you sent. I was the tomgirl who got in trouble, but never serious enough trouble; mostly class clown, rules-don't-apply-to-me trouble (all girl's school so it is all relative). I was blessed with an education that encouraged women to be independent in all ways, led by thinking, so I relate to the Mathildas of the world.
Now, where was I... What I found with this bike and all the women-specific bikes I rode, was that they were really twitchy. The exception was my Trek Pilot that was a beauty of a road bike. I think it is because the geometry doesn't pan out as the frame gets larger. It isn't a constant increase across all parts (add 10% to all measurements, or somesuch). The Terry frame looks downright squished; it had flat handlebars. The design was to accommodate longer legs coupled with shorter arms; aka women's geometry. And I think we all know how a short, tall bike would handle. My extra-long femurs exaggerated the issue to absurd levels, no matter how many adjustments were made to components; they could never compensate for the shortcomings inherent in the frame design, and frequently made things worse. The ONE thing no one could comprehend was how just putting high, swept-back handlebars would fix darn near everything by allowing for the proper geometry for a bike to handle well and be comfortable (well, except Grant, of course).



