
I find myself in a quandary. I've had this dilemma for a few years now. It's a thorny one, with which I've found myself wrestling on the bike, on foot, in cafes and bars, or anywhere else bike traffic is visible. This dilemma bears on a sensitive idea; one we frequently debate at the shop but have barely touched in the blog: style.
I will not be pretending an ability to render any sort of objective judgment on bicycle or sartorial elegance in this post, nor will I project my own values onto the simpler question I'll address here. You won't hear me tell you to wear “fashionable-three-quarter-length-pants” and certainly nothing so tired as to stop wearing neon helmet covers (even if I try to avoid them). I won't be debating the stylistic merits – or demerits, depending on your point of view – of colored tires, matching fenders, or ground effect lighting, or telling you to wear jeans on your training ride. Use equipment that works well for what you're doing, and wear what you want to wear.
The basic intersection of style and bicycles has little to do with whether you prefer denim or tweed or linen, and even less to do with what you choose to ride. The crux lies in how your riding influences your style. However you choose to express yourself through your appearance – be it clothing, accessories, hair, or makeup – that expression must necessarily extend to the hours you spend on your bicycle, and if you're reading this blog those hours are likely not few. How do you let your chosen appearance change when you ride? If you commute, do you change your clothes to do so, or do you wear your normal clothing? By extension, do you feel that you look like yourself while you ride, or do you feel like a bike person? How do you feel about that? The answers to these questions can come in many forms, and will be dictated by everything from meteorology and physiology to geography and demography. In fact, what you actually wear matters much less than how you feel about it. Comfort and aesthetics are different for everyone, but the more it rains the more important it becomes to like your raingear.
Back out on the street it's easy to see who's comfortable and who's not. Not the cyclist passing by who wore the clothes most appropriate for the weather, but the one that knows they look good. Whatever “good” may actually mean for that particular rider, it's pretty obvious when someone hasn't compromised their style to ride their bike, or at least feels at home in what they've chosen to wear. Conversely, it's quite painful to see someone living on their bike who obviously doesn't enjoy what they've ended up wearing. There seems to be an industry-wide assumption that when we swing a leg over a top tube we don't get to look like anybody except “bike guy.” Whether you're dressing like a Boeing supercommuter, a couture model, or a (hardcourt bike polo) Guardian, I'm a fan of choices. Anyone that has been able to see past an industry that tells them to wear a uniform is being a vitally important kind of cycling advocate- they're showing everyone one less sacrifice that must be made to ride a bike. When you roll out happy about how you look, you show each person standing on the sidewalk next to their car that they can do the same.
At last this brings me back to my quandary. I feel quite strongly about this subject, to the point that I would love to dispense heartfelt praise and excited high-fives to more than a few strangers on the street. Despite my utter sincerity, our culture isn't very comfortable – especially in Seattle – with that sort of behavior, and honestly there have been awkward moments. I'd love to be able to tell someone that I think they're doing a great job making cycling look stylistically accessible, but I haven't found a way to express it quickly and clearly enough to avoid uncomfortable misunderstandings. Since I really don't want to be “that guy,” can we come up with a nice shorthand for “Hey-I-think-you're-doing-a-great-job-making-cycling-look-good-and-no-I'm-not-being-sarcastic-or-hitting-on-you”? Or maybe a hand signal? A little help here would be greatly appreciated.








Comments
As for what to say, call me old-fashioned, but a "Looking good ..." works for me. With a "feeling good ..." response, naturally.
Big ups for the Fritzycle: orange, kitchenaid, LED ground FX. Proper.
I guess since you are a guy, you might have to be a LITTLE cool about it since guys have a weird macho thing under the surface, but maybe if you grunt afterward everyone will know it was just a simple compliment and not a come-on!
I think the shorthand you're looking for can be as simple as a thumbs-up. Most people, by your definition of style, who look good know that they look good, and are likely to correctly interpret such a sign.
And it'll probably make their day.
That’s why I spent the money on a Transport. I think I got the best of both worlds, and I regularly wear bib-overalls when I ride by the way…
Also, I'd love if someone said, "Hey, it doesn't look like you slept in your clothes" to me...but I don't think it's gonna happen ;)
Keep cycling sexy!
more or less like a biscuit wrapped in newspaper, but that's never bothered me... until... oh no, I'm hooked on Copenhagen Cycle Chic! In order to truly serve the Cause, which is passionately dear to my heart, of bicycles for everyone every day, I have to
figure out how to Look Good on my bike! But I ALWAYS look more or less like a biscuit wrapped in newspaper! Am I a traitor to the cause of cycling? But I'm supposed to demonstrate how normal it is to ride a bike - if I change how I look, so that I look ESPECIALLY
good on my bike, am I a traitor as well?? Meanwhile, I will give a friendly thumbs-up and "looking good!" to cyclists who appear to have a better grasp of this critical issue than I do.
teens, everyone riding bicycles. Because nobody was decked out in special bicycling clothes--just ordinary everyday clothes--I felt encouraged to get on a bicycle too, and did. Nobody wore helmets, either, unless they were toddlers just learning how to ride.
I ended up going out bicycling pretty much every day to do errands or just wander around. It really was so easy: hop on the bicycle and go. No need for special equipment or anything. Not even a helmet. Neither the Dutch or the Germans have bicycle helmet laws,
and the Dutch have the highest rate of bicycle use in the world, pretty much (and, interestingly enough, a very, very low rate of bicycle injuries and death--much lower than in countries that do have helmet laws, go figure). I have to say that I feel bicycling
culture here in the Puget Sound area is unfriendly to someone like me: over 50, overweight, introverted, and female. I'll rarely if ever see anyone like me riding a bicycle in this area. Before I lived in Germany, I'd go out on my bicycle and there would even
be people who assumed I was riding it because I had lost my driver's license! Sheesh. In Germany and the Netherlands, though, that wasn't the case. Old people, overweight people, thin people, young people, middle aged people--everyone rode them. I didn't feel
conspicuous at all, and it was a friendly atmosphere where people would smile and nod as you passed, the same as they would if you were strolling around the neighborhood. It was just easier to hop on a bicycle and go somewhere than to get in a car. I really
wish riding bicycles was just seen as a way to get around, rather than only for people in it for the sport. My husband--an avid bicyclist--has a blog about bicycling life in the Netherlands and Germany that gives a better feel for what I mean: http://bikecyclinglife.wordpress.com/
So when I heard about Seattle's Dutch Bikes, I was immediately swept into deep nostalgia about my bicycling experiences in Europe and had to go to your website and browse and reminisce. Thanks for the memories.