I have to add something after the fact. In the weeks since I posted this bitchiest of blogs I have noticed a few things. A) the spandex patterns have gotten a little more bearable and B) the wearers of said spandex seem more fit, taut and fun to look at as they zip past me. So, i guess blogging works! Of course, this could be just because I now go out earlier in the morning, or that it's holiday season and only the hard core riders are out there all the time, or it's colder or any number of coincidences that could explain it. Of course, I prefer to think that blogging really works. Amen.
That blog title is a little unfair, because I am here today to question both men and women who wear spandex bike outfits after a certain age or water-line. But at some point a headline needs to be a headline.
One of the ways I am combating age and girth is hitting the bike path as often as possible. Since I moved to L.A., I haven't been much of a gym rat, the exception being the years I could go to Crunch at lunch, across the courtyard from my office, and climb imaginary stairs next to Dave Navarro or see Fabio on the weight circuit. At least it was all sort of an amusing scene, except for Navarro's nipple rings --which I feel should remain covered at the gym. Now, for various reasons (such as my aversion to fetish jewelry) I prefer the beach. It's free and the air is better.
If I go out at 8:30 or 9 on a weekend, I mostly see a bunch of serious cyclists, usually in packs of about 8, and all in zippy little matching spandex bike outfits. What these people must think as they look in the mirror is beyond me. Do they think they look speedy? Or cool? Or like they slice through the atmosphere? I don't get it, because the outfits are all garish with none of the appeal of, say, a Roy Lichtenstien print, like these pants:
See, now that would be cool, provided you have the body for it. Like Jenny here.
But bike spandex is invariably just plain awful patterns, sometimes with things like "Peet's Coffee and Tea" written across the butt, which just mystifies me. (How is this good for Peet's?) The good news is that these people are all fit, with very low BMI's, a bunch of speedy little ektomorphs. And they go by fast, so the offending outfits don't last long.
But if you go out later in the day you get the less-serious cyclists, also wearing spandex, and it becomes a visual obstacle course. Just the other day I saw a woman that was about 5'5" and 250 lbs. if she was an ounce, in bright blue spandex bike shorts. Her male companion was about the same, but his flesh was straining against black spandex. People, if your flesh oozes out of the bottom and top of the pants, if your thighs look like baby wrists, please reconsider your garment. Maybe something a little looser? Cargo pants perhaps? Then I won't live in fear of one of those seams giving way. Some of them look like dotted lines, and I fear for them. I have seen bikers in tights -- long, short, name it -- with muffin tops that would make a baker blush
And then there are the ghost pants. Made of black fabric so worn and stretched so thin that it goes transparent. These are the pants that somebody has had forever in some drawer. They put them on inside, sometimes even in a bedroom with shades still drawn, look in the mirror or not, and head out. What they don’t know is that I can see their crack. Sometimes, you can see even more detail. It's called a loofah, kids, they are cheap and abundant. Please get one. Exfoliation is a great sensation.
And by no means is this blog to bust on people who need to lose weight. I am one of these people. This is about clothing etiquette. I am equally visually disturbed by the other end of the spectrum, the little ones that actually wear their spandex baggy, the geezers that are so skinny they can't find anything tight enough. This isn’t better than people with too little fabric, it’s just sadder.
Look. I would like to be a better human, to not judge, to accept the many forms of humanity. But I'm not. I’m a terrible elitist leftie snob and I like to look at pretty things. So for the love of aesthetics, please cover it up. I cover up my lumpy ol’ butt and middle-aged muffin tops, I would greatly appreciate the same consideration.
Thanks.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
That blog title is a little unfair, because I am here today to question both men and women who wear spandex bike outfits after a certain age or water-line. But at some point a headline needs to be a headline.
One of the ways I am combating age and girth is hitting the bike path as often as possible. Since I moved to L.A., I haven't been much of a gym rat, the exception being the years I could go to Crunch at lunch, across the courtyard from my office, and climb imaginary stairs next to Dave Navarro or see Fabio on the weight circuit. At least it was all sort of an amusing scene, except for Navarro's nipple rings --which I feel should remain covered at the gym. Now, for various reasons (such as my aversion to fetish jewelry) I prefer the beach. It's free and the air is better.
If I go out at 8:30 or 9 on a weekend, I mostly see a bunch of serious cyclists, usually in packs of about 8, and all in zippy little matching spandex bike outfits. What these people must think as they look in the mirror is beyond me. Do they think they look speedy? Or cool? Or like they slice through the atmosphere? I don't get it, because the outfits are all garish with none of the appeal of, say, a Roy Lichtenstien print, like these pants:
See, now that would be cool, provided you have the body for it. Like Jenny here.But bike spandex is invariably just plain awful patterns, sometimes with things like "Peet's Coffee and Tea" written across the butt, which just mystifies me. (How is this good for Peet's?) The good news is that these people are all fit, with very low BMI's, a bunch of speedy little ektomorphs. And they go by fast, so the offending outfits don't last long.
But if you go out later in the day you get the less-serious cyclists, also wearing spandex, and it becomes a visual obstacle course. Just the other day I saw a woman that was about 5'5" and 250 lbs. if she was an ounce, in bright blue spandex bike shorts. Her male companion was about the same, but his flesh was straining against black spandex. People, if your flesh oozes out of the bottom and top of the pants, if your thighs look like baby wrists, please reconsider your garment. Maybe something a little looser? Cargo pants perhaps? Then I won't live in fear of one of those seams giving way. Some of them look like dotted lines, and I fear for them. I have seen bikers in tights -- long, short, name it -- with muffin tops that would make a baker blush
And then there are the ghost pants. Made of black fabric so worn and stretched so thin that it goes transparent. These are the pants that somebody has had forever in some drawer. They put them on inside, sometimes even in a bedroom with shades still drawn, look in the mirror or not, and head out. What they don’t know is that I can see their crack. Sometimes, you can see even more detail. It's called a loofah, kids, they are cheap and abundant. Please get one. Exfoliation is a great sensation.
And by no means is this blog to bust on people who need to lose weight. I am one of these people. This is about clothing etiquette. I am equally visually disturbed by the other end of the spectrum, the little ones that actually wear their spandex baggy, the geezers that are so skinny they can't find anything tight enough. This isn’t better than people with too little fabric, it’s just sadder.
Look. I would like to be a better human, to not judge, to accept the many forms of humanity. But I'm not. I’m a terrible elitist leftie snob and I like to look at pretty things. So for the love of aesthetics, please cover it up. I cover up my lumpy ol’ butt and middle-aged muffin tops, I would greatly appreciate the same consideration.
Thanks.
