Option C

I have been doing this a long time, and I can predict that every October there will be a new kit kerfuffle. The NKK has to do with the design of your outlandish bicycling underwear, and the opinions and debate it engenders are always amazing.

This year, Team Lizard Collectors is doing what clubs around the world are doing, tossing out design options for their members to vote on and trying to get everyone to agree on the the least horrible pattern that clubmates will be prancing around in for the next twelve months or so. In our case there is Option A, which I’ll call “Striped Lizardskin w/Highlights,” and Option B, which I’ll call “Lizardskin Barcode Black.”

Club members are already voting, but before it’s all done, I’d like to propose Option C, and frankly, your club should avail itself of Option C, too. And Option C is: Ride yer fuggin’ bike.

You see, it doesn’t matter what you wear because you will always look stupid in a bicycle suit. A bicycle suit, if you are a man, is designed to bring your junk outline into painful visibility for all and sundry. Trust me, this will not be flattering unless you are Mr. R. Dollar, whose outline can reliably be viewed via Google Earth.

For everyone else, the prettiest and fanciest color design from Milan itself won’t make up for the twig-n-baby-bagels you are showcasing in your Xtra Pro-Lux SupaComfee Chamois.

However, even if you do have something more impressive than the average cyclist’s embarrassingly average toolkit, you still look like a fool. Why? Because you are an adult riding a bicycle in your underwear. What is it about this sentence that is so hard to understand? Would you wrap yourself in purple cellophane and go to a nightclub? Would you walk around in public in a latex outfit unless it were Halloween? And if you did, would you be surprised when people told you that you looked foolish? Heck no, you wouldn’t.

Yet every year, thousands of baby seals angst about whether the stripes should be horizontal, whether the mauve should be more saturated, or whether the logo for team sponsor Sam’s Speedy Venereal Treatments should be above the butt or above the pelvis. Stop angsting. To the broader public, you look silly and, um, underpowered.

To the cycling public, though, there are admittedly fashion and appearance issues that might cause concern for a particularly hideous color combo/design. Here too, however, you can rest easy.

The way to look good to other cyclists is to ride away from them. That’s all they care about. Take G$, for example. It doesn’t matter what he wears. When he stomps on the pedals and glides away, it is beautiful.

You, on the other hand, who like me are most excellent as a cyclist when typing or cruising Facebag, do not look beautiful because you are the person being ridden away from. Dropper = pretty. Droppee = lame. And it’s not because the stripe on your bicycle suit is horizontal.

Now’s the time to make your voice heard. Let the powers that be know that while others are fulminating about fashion, you’ll be exercising Option C: Riding yer fuggin’ bike.

END

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PS: Don’t forget the Wanky’s. As if you could. And I may have forgotten to mention that there is free food and beer for the first 300 guests, so get there early.

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30 thoughts on “Option C”

  1. I like to think that when people are waiting for me at the top of a climb, because of the whole being dropped thing, that they are like, “dang did you see how sick his white shoe covers are?” or “bro his two tone bar tape is dynamite”

  2. Every year? Christ! Didn’t I spend $500 on shit last year? I wear my kits a lot, and I wash them a lot, and they seem to last a pretty long time, so I just ride em until someone asks me if I have a hairy ass, and then I know its time to throw those shorts in the trash.

      1. I remember wool shorts and wool tights, and how little that shit blocked the wind, in fact I think it actually channeled the wind right onto my junk, and then I got to experience the pain that can only be equaled by passing a a kidney stone as I thawed out.

      2. Remember when chamois were made of leather hide, and were really fuggin’ uncomfortable?

  3. Pff option C that sounds hard.

    Come on Seth, you know it’s all about the sock doping.

  4. For this reason (but also because it feels odd branding people, especially kids), our club decided on “perpetual” jerseys. It was challenging coming up with a design that wasn’t sponsor-driven. But it sure is nice to avoid the annual new-kit shakedown.

    1. It’s so much smarter because clothes then last longer, it’s cheaper, and you develop a “look” that people can consistently identify year in and year out. There’s a reason that Nike keeps the same logo every single year.

  5. I just saw the choices. They cannot be unseen, but we want to be seen, therefore, bar codes for the win.

  6. I’m not even qualified to be a baby seal, so that’s why I’m asking such elementary questions.

    If someone just goes on club rides, can they use the same club kit for a few years without trouble? However, if they want to race with the club, do they need the latest kit to keep the sponsors happy?

    1. Best policy is to use the bicycle suit until it becomes revealing or uncomfortable or both.

      USAC requires you to ride with your club’s most current suit, but no one knows or cares that I’ve ever seen.

  7. And somewhere Cactus Jack is smiling. The Mystery Writer’s version of this was called “Jersey Jersey”. Well done Zeth.

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