Just Shoot Me
Then We'll Come from the Shadows...
Cycling in winter requires some practical dress considerations. Your outfit has to keep you warm while at the same time alleviating the effects of exercise-related body heat.
My research into the ins and outs of achieving the above quickly led me to realise that, besides the practical, there are sartorial obligations to be considered.
That’s right folks: there’s a uniform available.
At the end of ‘The Little House I Used to Live in’ on the Burnt Weenie Sandwich album, when notified there were "cops in uniform" in the audience, Frank Zappa responds: “Everyone in this room is wearing a uniform, don’t kid yourself”
I must have heard that for the first time in the mid-70s and it resonated with my dislike for the school uniforms I was being, and had been, subjected to.
By the end of the 70s it got worse as I was subjected to the brown uniform that the SADF sported in their fashionable war against the communist threat – uniform aside, conscription into the Afrikaner army was a privilege this white boy did not appreciate. Two years in brown almost broke my head; I came close to getting old and succumbing to conformity.
The 80’s rescued me in the guise of ‘the new wave’ - a subtle uniform adopted by a minority who knew better – or so they (we) thought. In those days I was obliged to wear a week-day work uniform (including tie) which I would shuck the minute I got home – a weekend New Romantic indeed.
And while we’re talking about ties – what the fuck is that all about?
A conformance checker?
A penis extension?
I hate wearing a tie and have not done so, even to formal occasions (gasp, scandal), for many years.
So we herd together for warmth; for safety; for a sense of community.
But why do we have to all dress up the same?
If I conform* to the mountain bikers uniform (see here) will it keep me warm while allowing me to have an adrenaline-fueled time on the hallowed trails, splashing through lovely mud and whooping as I jump over dangerous roots and rock outcrops at high speed?
If I wear your uniform, does it mean I have to act like you?
*not bloody likely
My research into the ins and outs of achieving the above quickly led me to realise that, besides the practical, there are sartorial obligations to be considered.
That’s right folks: there’s a uniform available.
At the end of ‘The Little House I Used to Live in’ on the Burnt Weenie Sandwich album, when notified there were "cops in uniform" in the audience, Frank Zappa responds: “Everyone in this room is wearing a uniform, don’t kid yourself”
I must have heard that for the first time in the mid-70s and it resonated with my dislike for the school uniforms I was being, and had been, subjected to.
By the end of the 70s it got worse as I was subjected to the brown uniform that the SADF sported in their fashionable war against the communist threat – uniform aside, conscription into the Afrikaner army was a privilege this white boy did not appreciate. Two years in brown almost broke my head; I came close to getting old and succumbing to conformity.
The 80’s rescued me in the guise of ‘the new wave’ - a subtle uniform adopted by a minority who knew better – or so they (we) thought. In those days I was obliged to wear a week-day work uniform (including tie) which I would shuck the minute I got home – a weekend New Romantic indeed.
And while we’re talking about ties – what the fuck is that all about?
A conformance checker?
A penis extension?
I hate wearing a tie and have not done so, even to formal occasions (gasp, scandal), for many years.
So we herd together for warmth; for safety; for a sense of community.
But why do we have to all dress up the same?
If I conform* to the mountain bikers uniform (see here) will it keep me warm while allowing me to have an adrenaline-fueled time on the hallowed trails, splashing through lovely mud and whooping as I jump over dangerous roots and rock outcrops at high speed?
If I wear your uniform, does it mean I have to act like you?
*not bloody likely
...and Step into the Light
Photos by PISCES January 2013
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5 comments:
As the Bard so aptly put it, the world's a stage.
there is practical application, and then there is befundery. I don't think that is a word, but i don't care.
Mr.C: That Bard bloke was quite clever methinks ;]
Tom: It's a good word and it perfectly describes a man dressed in lycra.
Camoflage. The Ministry of Love sends tall poppies and bright plumage to Room 101. Known fact. :)
Lycra on bike riders endangers their lives by causing rage in motor vehicle drivers.
Lxx
Letitia: dark! :#
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