What does the layman observe when he sees a cyclist in the wild? While we do our utmost to Look Fantastic, in our own eyes and minds at least, outside observers may as well be witnessing little green aliens who’ve just stepped off their spacecraft and are heading to their very first fancy dress/drag party on this weird and wonderful planet called Earth. We go to great lengths to carefully match our kit, keep our shoes clean, make sure we are smooth and hairless, tanned, toned and terrific. We check the mirror as we’re leaving the house and see Merckx or De Vlaeminck looking back at us, hair slicked back and perfect sideburns. We see the brown skin and lean, lithe body of Contador or Nibali. Others may be greeted with a reflected visage of a Thor, Tommeke or Spartacus if more on the ‘Classics’ scale of the cyclist’s BMI. We see greatness, a fine example of athleticism and presentation, bound to turn heads and elicit breathless epithets as we glide easily by.
What the man in the street sees is a twat. And he probably has a point.
You’re out for lunch or coffee and witness a bunch of podgy, balding, pale middle-aged men ride up, awkwardly dismount then stand in the coffee queue while dripping sweat, smelling like a deceased polecat and talking loudly about how they “got spat out the ass” or “took a huge pull until I blew”. Your first reaction would probably be to grab your children, or anyone’s children, by the arm and quickly vacate the premises, protecting their eyes and ears from the freaks in tights and ballet shoes standing in their own puddle, oblivious to the small piece of snot perched on their crusted, bristly upper lip. The poor student behind the counter notices it though, and does his best to stifle a dry retch as he takes the Amex card from the increasingly crimson-faced road warrior. The clip-clop of his ridiculous yellow, red and silver shoes resonates on the tile floor, now glistening with salty accountant discharge, filling the remaining patrons with hope that there may be a fall coming… not bad enough that said patrons may have to actually help the stricken fellow who appears to work for SkyTV, but just enough so that there’s some major bruising to the ego of the whiffy real estate agent who apparently has recently returned from a trip to Kazhakstan.
This may all seem far-fetched, but it’s how myself and other Cyclists are perceived every day, from whichever side of the fence one may be positioned. No matter how good a Cyclist looks, or thinks they look, we still come off as tossers by the very nature of our sport’s equipment and apparel requirements. But try telling your 45 year old colleagues that it’s all for performance and you’ll be rightly met with a comment of the ilk of “what, are ya racing the farkin Tooer dee Fraaance or sumfin, are ya?” Once again, they may have a point.
Why can’t a serious cyclist wear less revealing and body-hugging attire, even if not racing? Why not a pair of shoes in which we can walk like a normal person, rather than a duck with a gammy leg, if we know we’ll be making a coffee stop before and probably after the ride? Do we really need to be pushing our spuds to the side of the plate and adjusting ourselves in full view of the Sunday brunch crowd who only want a sausage in their mixed grill, not in their faces? Why can’t we just be more normal?
Because it doesn’t make us feel Pro or remotely Fantastic, that’s why. It doesn’t make us feel like we are Cyclists. The same reasons weekend rugby players don’t wear their jeans and hoodies onto the pitch, even if that’s their uniform off it. But face the truth… we are average men, with average talents and average ambitions (if any), despite the possibility that your talents and ambitions are at a level above most of your other average cronies. We can, and should, do our best to look good when we ride our bicycles. But remember, no matter how good we think we look, we don’t. Especially in cafes and pubs.
Here’s my tips for a successful coffee/beer ride with minimum twat factor:
1. Go for a ride.
2. Don’t dismount anywhere, ever.
3. Go home.
4. Showered? Changed? Now you can go to the pub.
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View Comments
This is what I see...you gives a shit what others see!
@Teocalli
Leather clad bikers always seem more willing to chat and converse. It must be a two wheel thing...
@wiscot
I used to have my filling stations plagued by this one goddamn woman who always seemed to manage to be in there when I was in there. I wanted to be in/out and this woman would buy lottery tickets, browse, buy some more and hold up the line for ages. I still can't believe how many times she'd be at the head of the line. Thankfully, I discovered a local beer shop and no longer go in that place. Haven't seen her in awhile, but the dislike remains strong.
@ChrisO
Fark off you skinny karnt. As one of the most pro of all Velominati, you know that isn't true!
Lets hope the TT Suit has more coverage than Froomedogs, lest you need SPF 5 million for your local riding!
Never seen The Peloton. Those guys are pretty darn funny. Greek guy (I'm guessing) is a funny dude.
Just spotted one of These Guys in the wild. Took a quick work break to visit the grocery. On way back, dude pulls onto bike trail ahead of me on a purple bike. Sweet, I love purple bikes. Tried to catch up to inspect the bike, guy thinks I'm trying to race him. Instead of shifting has to stand to climb a teeny hill, nearly goes into the bushes. Jeez. Saggy kit, what looked to be a frame pump tucked into his jersey pocket, asking to fall out.
Got close enough to see it was a Klein. Who owns a nice Klein and doesn't know when to shift? Bonkers.
@wiscot
The Harley bar in town closed down. YES! Major upgrade to my eardrums.
And, speaking of noise...what about the new toilets and hand driers in public restrooms?! Those hand driers have to be against public health laws they're so fucking loud. I've been scared half to death when using a stall to change from cycling gear into work clothes and one automatically flushes. And sounds like a jet engine. Insane.
I dunno fellas.. we women have a little easier time looking good even IN our slightly dewey kits. Some people LIKE women in spandex... I still vote for an apres ride espresso in full gear if the occasion calls for it. A little french perfume carried in the jersey helps.. done it!
No one will bat an eye at any spandex in this place...
Of coarse this doesn't apply to VMHs in the same way who as usual with life can get by with a lot more fashion options than men. It helps that both men and women will admire the VMH form, but men's not so much.
a VMH in Lycra is much more pleasing.
our local Saturday group ride stop would have little business before the hipster crowd wakes up if it weren't for us. Plus most buy food as well and are accommodated in the adjoining alley.
one of my very lovely VMH friends had such a food low one day that she rode into the shop to ensure her husband bought her toast and muffins. They are triathletes too so there you go.
@Rom