Black

On the bike...I wear black.

My high-school girlfriend was fond of saying: "I wear black on the outside, because black is how I feel on the inside."

This is not black. She was not my girlfriend, either →

She loved The Cure, and she was goth long before Shirley Manson perfected the vamp and the 'tude.

Johnny Cash wore black.

AC/DC were Back in Black.

The Damned's Black Album is a gem.

The Stones wanted to Paint It, Black.

Er, Why Black?

I came to cycling during the 80s, when color knew no bounds. Look at that lovely, exuberant lady. Admire the neon! Such grace! Such style!

Doesn't she make you cringe?

Cycling in the 80s meant Greg Lemond, neon green, Cannondale, and Wide World of Sports (replete with John Tesh-penned soundtracks).

If you wore this jersey and listened to John Tesh, you, too, would find solace
wearing black and diving deep within the Johnny Cash discography.

But today I am older and wiser. So much so that when I picked up a copy of Bicycling magazine and saw an ad insert for Rapha, I was immediately hooked.

Glory, Glory, Halle-Rapha!

Black and white. The photos and the clothes.

No peloton-passing-through-fields-of-Van-Gogh-inspired-sunflowers photos here.

Gritty, essential; that's the Rapha way.

Hyper-idealized reality? Yep.

Pretentious? Sure.

Stylish? Absolutely.

Grey cobbles, not pink pullovers →

Pricey? Check. But their clothes are exceptionally well-constructed using amazingly high-quality materials. And the customer service is old-school (a very welcome surprise).

Rapha is to cycling style as Paris-Roubaix is to the Giro. It's grey, not pink. Frites, not fettuccine. (No disrespect to the Giro, I'm talking about style. )
 
I love Rapha.

So, Why Do You Wear Black?


Style, baby.

I'm anti-80s (thus defining myself as absolutely 80s).

I'm classic—my little black jersey will never go out of style.

I'm me.

Socks! (Or, the Journey to Sartorial Self-Determiniation)

I like clothes.

My Rapha-fetish notwithstanding, it's not about volume. It's about quality and "a look". I am far from a clothes horse—in fact, my closet is largely void of anything I can wear (...courtesy of weight loss and my unwillingness to go out and buy clothes that fit. As Trevor, my irrepressible and irreverent colleague—hereinafter to be referred to as “ir-Trevor”—says: "If you do (get new clothes) you're only going to gain it all back, anyway.").

But I like to look good in a classic way. Alternatively, I like to look interesting.

Ergo, cyclocross is perfect for me. It’s traditions—irreverence, occasional costuming, and frivolous atmosphere (that thin veil obscuring its profoundly powerful competitiveness and strikingly sweet masochism)—lead to a kind of sartorial self-determination.

Pink!

Schooley Mill 'Cross was organized by the Baltimore Bicycle Club Racing Team. Their colors are pink and black. Interesting.

BBC logo as rendered in pink

It takes a bold man--here in the US--to wear pink convincingly. We're not Italians, celebrating the Giro by coloring our world with the un-red. And we're not Eurocentric Brits, slavishly following the fashions of Thomas Pink of Jermyn Street, London.

Even so, I must admit that BBC looked good, all these fellows in their pink-and-black kits.

But then there was one. This was a man after mine own heart, a gentleman of profoundly outstanding vision and taste. There was a man in argyle.

Not for him, the mere pink-and-black stylings of his jersey and shorts. Not for him, the mere classicism of his pink-and-black cap. Nay!

For him, nothing less than knee-high pink-and-black argyle socks would do.

I love this guy!

Knee Socks!

Since I-can't-remember-when, I have been a fan of knee socks. It is a running joke in my family that knee socks are a gift (for me) for any occasion.

Less-well-known is that I deeply admire interesting socks (argyle, polka-dot, stripes, smiley faces).

NOT Sean Connery

Unfortunately, people seem to be less-inclined to gift me interesting socks. Damned gender-biasing! Were I a girl, I would need to dig myself out from the avalanche of fancy knee socks that would materialize every holiday. Alas, here I sit, brokenhearted...

Argyle and Polka Dots

The Schooley Mill race—I had decided—would be the event/day that I would make my decision about which team I would join. I was 90% certain that I would join AFC, but BBC was still in the running—and Mr. Pink Argyle was having a huge influence on me.

Then I ran into Patrick of AFC...

Patrick the Competent,
sporting the dots!

He was sporting his polka dot kit and...

EPIPHANY!

I had a vision.

Polka dot kit. Polka dot knee socks.

Decision made.

AFC it would be.

Sartorial self-determination, er, determined.

Now, how will I realize my vision?

Gear

I believe that all cyclists are gearheads.

To that end, I am cataloging my gear. It's (more than) a bit like alphabetizing your CD collection. It is a labor of love that taps into that "it's mine, all mine!" childishness in all of us.

Bikes

• Bianchi Veloce (1997)
• Novara Ponderosa 29er (2009)

Clothes

• Gore Summer Jersey
• Rapha Classic Jersey
• Rapha Long Sleeve Jersey
• Rapha Roubaix Tights
• REI Rain Pants

Shoes & Accessories

• Sidi Mega...
• Cateye Double Wireless

Bikes

Bianchi Veloce (1997)



Novara Ponderosa 29er (2009)

Specification	Description
Frame	Aluminum
Fork	RockShox Dart 3 29'' w/ lockout
Crankset	Truvativ Firex 3.1 44/32/22
Bottom bracket	Truvativ Giga Pipe
Shifters	SRAM X-7
Front derailleur	SRAM X-7
Rear derailleur	SRAM X-7
Rear cogs	SRAM PG-950 11/34, 9-speed
Brakes	Avid BB7 Disc
Brake levers	Avid FR 5
Rims	WTB SpeedDisc All Mountain
Front hub	Shimano M475 Disc
Rear hub	Shimano M475 Disc
Tires	WTB Prowler MX 29x2.1"
Handlebar	Truvativ Stylo SL 31.8mm
Stem	Truvativ XR 3D
Seat post	Truvativ XR
Saddle	WTB Pure V Race
Pedals	Alloy platform
Headset	Integrated semi-cartridge
Chain	SRAM PC 951

Clothes

• Rapha...
• Rapha...
• Rapha...
• Rapha...

Shoes

• Sidi