A Domino Effect

There many, many reasons why I’m a devoted cyclist.  I love the jaunty freedom of it, the health benefits, the fact that I no longer need to fret about public transport, rising fuel prices or unpredictable journey times.  I’ve talked about all of those things before ad nauseum on this blog I’m sure, so today I’m going to talk {read: rant incessantly} about the one thing I really, really despise about my beloved two-wheeled past time.

Lycra.

When I was in Italy last year I saw all human life on bikes: men in sharp suits cycling between appointments, their briefcases perched in their baskets; glamorous women in high heeled loafers slaloming gracefully between honking cars and buzzing mopeds; crinkly old men trundling slowly through the parks, stopping occasionally to read the newspaper on a bench or snooze awhile in the sun.  These sights brought me the most immense kind of joy.  It was completely inspiring to see people of all ages, shapes and sizes on bikes, the national mode of transport, suitable for and open to all.

Fast forward to a drizzly Tuesday morning in Edinburgh and you’d be forgiven for thinking the Tour de France was in town.  Seriously, je ne comprende pas.  Almost every cyclist I see is wearing tight fitting, cellulite and panty line enhancing spandex to make their journeys by bike over here.  Any why?  Is the Edinburgh terrain more challenging than that of say, Rome, or Florence?  Are the conditions here less amenable to wearing normal clothes to ride a bike?  Or, and I suspect this is probably the most pertinent question, is our national culture of buying shit we don’t need so deeply ingrained that we are unable to undertake the simplest of pleasures without spending hundreds of pounds on it first?

I cycle to work every day, seven miles each way.  As of Monday, my journey will be halved, but regardless of how far I’m going, I always wear my normal clothes.  If it’s raining I might take a change of outfit with me, and if I’m planning a too-tight for pedalling pencil skirt or a too long for chain chewing avoidance maxi dress then I wear leggings to ride.  In every other case it’s me, my bike and my floaty florals all the way.

I’m fully aware that what I like to refer to as the lycra clad mafia thinks less of me as a result of my chosen attire.  These people overtake with their anorexic tyres, their smug expressions and their frankly ridiculous clip-in shoes with all the ferocity of an olympic competitor, as though they think I’ll be impressed by how streamlined they are.  And I am impressed.  Deeply impressed.  But not by their speed and their ability to lean into corners.  I’m impressed by how incredibly streamlined their wallets must be as a result of purchasing all that crap to wear while they cycle a relatively modest distance across Edinburgh to work.

I’ve also found cyclists clad in lycra to be among the more aggressive of our breed.  A couple of weeks ago I was overtaken a man in spanx who wasn’t actually going any faster than I was.  He overtook, which I was fine with, but he then proceeded to settle down just a few inches in front of me, as though he just couldn’t bear to sit behind someone who wasn’t dressed from head to toe in cling film.  I could almost have grabbed his rear tyre, and having to pay attention to his positioning on the path to avoid crashing completely spoiled my own journey, and I ended up slowing down just to get rid of him.  I could have been churlish about it and overtaken him back, but all I really wanted was to amble along in peace and quiet, enjoying the view and thinking about dinner, not enter into a bizarre game of cat and mouse with some tiny bummed aggressor I don’t even know.

The other thing about wearing head to toe lycra to cycle is that it must take a looooong time to get it on and off at the end of the day.  If your commute takes you fifteen minutes but you’re out by another ten at the end just so you can regain the form of a normal human being, have you really won the race?  Really? I cycle to work in my normal clothes, and I take approximately two minutes to freshen up when I arrive.  A spritz of anti-perspirant and a wet wipe is all I need to erase any lingering evidence of exertion.

The truth is, lycra is unnecessary for most cycling journeys.  As are clip on shoes (and just while I’m at it, how does one go about falling off a bike when physically strapped into it?  It’s gotta come with you, surely?).  Unnecessary, overpriced and designed to play on peoples’ insecurities.  I speculate not on what’s required for long-distance, mountainous, tortuous journeys au velo, but when it comes to a gentle commute across town in the morning, even a town as 3-dimensional as Edinburgh, all you really need to cycle are clothes that allow you to breathe and that won’t get stuck in your wheels.  Shoes that don’t slip around on your pedals and cause you a mischief are handy.  I also wear a helmet, not because it looks nice or I’m particularly convinced of its ability to stop my skull from splintering, but mainly because I think it encourages motorists to take me seriously when I’m on the road (that’s ABSOLUTELY ALL I WILL SAY about the cyclist motorist relationship.  Can of worms left firmly closed).

I guess my greatest annoyance about lycra and all other unnecessary cycling gear is that it seems to me to be just another way for people to make themselves feel superior as a result of their spending decisions.  Another example of people feeling pressurised into spending money on something to show that they take it seriously, as opposed to just getting out there and doing the thing itself.  Another example of childish, playground-type behaviour born out of insecurities and status anxiety.  Which is sad.  Cycling is meant to be a joy, not an opportunity for elitism and showing off.  As long as you’re not wearing anything that makes it obviously dangerous, you should feel able to take to the road in whatever attire you damn well choose.

Which is why I will continue, resolutely, defiantly and proudly to wear my favourite jeans and blazer combo, or my first choice floral dress and trench coat ensemble.  I will continue to display my character, my beliefs and my pretty second-hand outfits while I ride my bicycle, and not my ability to waste money on things that don’t matter.

What are your views?  Do you cycle?  What do you wear for it?  Anyone fancy making a case for the neon clingfilm?

PS, Edinburgh Cycle Chic is an excellent blog, run by some fellow lycra pessimists.  It’s my enduring ambition to find myself on there.  Go take a peep!

Image above from here.

So how did you beautiful people spend your (second) bank holiday weekend?  Mine was full of playing hostess, visiting family and cycling around in my Summer best.

I set aside my apathy and got well into the royal nuptials on Friday, along with 24 million others, it seems.  I’ll be honest: having two of my friends appear at the flat with copious amounts of fizzy wine, snacks and high spirits did help matters.  And I have to say that as soon as I put my dubiety to one side I did really enjoy it.  If not for the actual wedding then for the feeling that came with knowing that most of the country was doing exactly the same thing at exactly the same time.  There’s a lovely sense of unity that these occasions have a knack for generating, and whether you like or loathe the monarchy, you must admit that they do know how to put on a show.

On Saturday I went to St Andrews where my sister and I had a lip-smackingly good lunch at the West Port before heading out into the blazing sunshine for a stroll and a delicious ice cream from Jannetta’s (worth the trip up from Edinburgh alone).

I love St Andrews.  I love the buildings, I love the beaches and I love the juxtaposition of small seaside town with vibrant student metropolis.  The weather was perfect on Saturday – not a single cloud in the sky, and the streets were packed with bank holidaymakers, out to enjoy the weather and perhaps sneak a peak at the giant portrait of Wills and Kate made entirely from jelly beans…

What do you think?  Nice?  Weird?  Slightly bizarre but amazing nonetheless?  I can’t decide!

On Sunday, my boyfriend and I took to our bikes and cycled out to South Queensferry for a cheeky half pint under the shade of the forth rail bridge.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, but there is no joy quite like the joy of cycling along in a floaty skirt, wind in your hair and sun on your face.  And catching views like those we saw on Sunday instantly make any uphill pedalling well worth the effort.  We celebrated our 20 mile round trip with a slap up Sunday roast and plenty of chocolate before bunkering down to watch a film and bask in the knowledge that Monday was another holiday.

What did you do this weekend?

William and Kate image from here.

I managed to fix my bike last night, which puts paid to goal number 5 of the ‘June 2010′ list (check it out here if you’re interested).  It turns out that all that was needed to knock my wheels into tip-top shape was a decent pump for the tyres (thanks Edinburgh Bicycle Cooperative!) and a little handiwork with the screwdriver for the brakes, light fittings and bell.  To celebrate, I cycled into work this morning for the first time in *months* and was delighted at just how much fun (and how quick) it was.  What’s normally a good half-hour walk has instantly become a ten minute cycle, with the result that I was at my desk a whole twenty minutes earlier than usual this morning, feeling refreshed and raring to go (well, perhaps not exactly raring to go, but pretty chipper nonetheless).

Cycling is a giddily pleasing way to get around.  There’s something so very delightful about whizzing about on two wheels with the wind in your hair and your brain being ruthlessly crushed by a restrictive helmet.  While it’s a completely different ballgame on busy city streets (distinct possibility of being mowed down by double decker buses; having to put up with angry motorists who think they own the road) than it is on deserted country lanes it remains a fun, not to mention absolutely *free*, way to get from A to B in a relatively short space of time.

Edinburgh is a more cyclist-friendly city than some others, but it’s still a far cry from places like Amsterdam, where cycling is the predominant mode of transport for all types of people, not just angry-looking men in weird shoes and fluorescent vests.  I figured that rather than bemoan the number of bikes on the streets compared with the number of cars, the best way to encourage the city to further develop its cycle-friendly credentials was to get cycling myself, and this is what I plan to do lots of over the coming summer months.  I’m also on the look-out for an old-fashioned wicker basket to strap to my handlebars for the ultimate in euro-chic pedalling!  Ting ting!

*The picture above is one I took of the bike I hired to cycle round the Villa Borghese in Rome last year.  Basket full of the essentials: water, picnic blanket and some red roses, gifted to me by a random!