The Future Of Cycling Fashion?

I dream of the day I can go to a job interview or board meeting dressed like this:

From the Osprey Packs bike blog

I'd settle for looking as good as she does in a skirt, heels and chainmark!  

Now, if someone made those shoes compatible with Look, SPD or other cleats and someone raced in them, that would be interesting, to say the least!

All In A Day: Drafting Proposals And Patching Tubes

Tomorrow I will face a bit of a dilemma.

No, it's not about what to do with the rest of my life, although I've been thinking (and not feeling very encouraged) about that lately. Rather, it's something a bit more mundane, though the way I resolve it might affect other things in my life.

It's like this:  In the morning, I'm leading a writing workshop.  It's in a business environment, so I have to look more or less professional, even though it will be a Saturday. That means, among other things, no shorts, tank tops, T shirts or flip-flops.  I don't think sneakers would be such a great idea, either.

Once that workshop is done, I'm going to co-lead a bike repair workshop for WE Bike NYC (a.k.a. Women's Empowerment Through Bicycles).  This workshop will be a bit different from others in that people will bring in their bikes and we will show them how to make repairs or do maintenance they need.   Professional attire is, of course, not required. 

The logical thing--which, believe it or not, is what I'll probably do-- would be to pack clothes I wouldn't mind smudging with grease or staining with other substances and to change--either in the bathroom of the office building where I'll be doing the writing workshop or at Smorgasburg, where the repair workshop will be held.

Then again, a part of me wants to show up for the repair workshop in a skirt and heels.  I'm thinking of the day Velouria and I rode, when I switched the pedals and made a couple of other adjustments while wearing what I'd worn to work that day.  Somehow I managed not to make a mess.  But I don't know how long I could sustain that.  

But for all of those people who are intimidated by the prospect of working on their own bikes, I could send a message by showing up as a "working woman".  On the other hand, whatever I change into won't be bike clothes (i.e., no spandex), so I won't be projecting the image of a "bike jock" or "shop rat."  

Or would I?  I've just had a manicure and pedicure today.  


Note:  Photos were taken by Velouria and are on her blog, Lovely Bicycle!

Girl On Bike Rides To Rainbow In Prague

Summer...In the US, it's a time when frazzled parents with squalling kids go to amusement parks, professional couples go and fry themselves on beaches that, they believe, only they know about.  And guys go to the movies to see pikshas of girls with guns.  Said girls, of course, are usually not wearing much more than their ammo belts.


So, for all of you guys, I'm going to offer the next best thing--a girl in Prague, on a bike:

OK, so I'm not wearing a bikini and my accessories don't run to bandoliers.  And maybe I'm more of a babushka than a girl.  (All of the tacky souvenir shops are full of row after row of Russian dolls.  I thought Vaclav Havel and Alexander Dubcek ended such things!)  So, just for having to endure the indignity of seeing an overweight middle-aged American woman on a rented bike, I'll offer you this:

Really, I didn't intentionally make her blurrier.  I mean, just because she's younger and more attractive than I'll ever be, and is wearing an outfit I can only hope to pull of in my next life,  it doesn't mean I sub- (or not-so-sub-) consciously took a bad photo.  My real purpose...ahem...was to show the wonderful shop from which I rented the bike I rode. It's the same one from which I took a guided tour the other day:  City Bike, on Namesti Republiky (Republic Square).  It's a tiny place, entered thorough one of those wonderful covered passageways one often sees between public buildings in this city.  

City Bike is literally steps from this architectural marvel.  Municipal Hall out-Art Nouveaus any Art Nouveau building you've ever seen.  

Just how you envisioned your next renovation, right?  Just go down to your local Home Depot and pick up all of those materials.

The building and City Bike are also within two kilometers of many of this city's attractions:  the Old Town Square (with the Astronomical Clock), among other things, the Old Jewish Quarter (where I went into the Starenovo, a.k.a. Old-New, Synagogue, the supposed home of the Golem), Wenceslas Square, the Charles Bridge and, of course, the Castle.

Today, on my first solo ride, I went by all of those places.  Then, from the Castle, I took a left (I'm not talking about my politics) and went straight (No comment on that.) through some parts of the city I hadn't seen.  

This building, in the Smichov shopping center, seems to be an inverse mirror reflection of Frank Gehry's "Dancing Building" on the other side of the Vlata River.  (You can't see one building from the other, so I don't think this symmetry was intentional.)  Smichov has been described as Prague's most "schizophrenic" neighborhood: the area around the shopping center and Andel station contain some of the city's swankiest villas.  Yet, less than two kilometers down the road I cycled, near the Schmikovske Nadrazi rail station, is one of the most impoverished areas of the city.  From that station, I found myself riding through an old industrial area, some of which seemed to be abandoned, until I came to an old residential area and, finally, a trestle that was just wide enough for the trams that passed over it.

Although I seemed to be cycling in even tighter spaces than I do in New York or have in Paris, riding these streets didn't seem quite as frentic.  To be sure, I didn't have to be any place in particular at any given time.   But, even when I rode down ancient cobblestoned streets not much wider than my (I'll let you choose the part of my body.  Ha, ha.) and drivers approached from behind, they didn't honk their horns or pull as close as they could to my rear wheel.  Admittedly, those streets aren't very long, so they didn't have to spend very much time waiting.  But I could not imagine a New York or Parisian driver being so patient.


After I got back to my hotel and walked in search of a meal, this sight greeted me:

That, after this:

That was one of two rainbows I've seen since I've been here. A sign, perhaps?  I hope!

You Never Know When It Will Come In Handy!

"Why do we have to learn this?"

"You never know when you can use it."


I couldn't begin to count (I'm an English instructor, after all!) how many times I've had that conversation with a student. 


Truth be told, we learn lots of things we never use.  If I haven't used trigonometry or calculus by this point in my life, I doubt that I ever will.  Then again, I doubt that I know very much, if any, of it at all because whether or not I actually learned those things is certainly debatable.  I took classes in them, yes.  But I didn't do well, and I don't think I retained a whole lot of either of them.


Tonight, for my commute home, I used a skill that I learned as a Boy Scout(!) many, many years ago.  No, I didn't start a fire by rubbing two sticks together or weave a lanyard.  What I did was to forecast the weather.  Well, OK, I didn't predict the storm that came our way.  But I managed to avoid it.


One thing I learned during those hikes and camping trips is that most weather patterns--at least in the continental United States--move from west to east.  So, after my class, when I saw the sky darkening and heard that heavy rain and hail were falling in New Jersey, I knew enough to wait before riding home.


The ride from my class to my apartment--at least via the least-trafficked route, which I took today--is about twelve miles.  That includes a somewhat circuitous route through Kissena and Flushing Meadow Parks.  And, as it happens, the class is east-southeast of my apartment.


So I stayed for two hours after the class to read some papers and do a small piece of online research.  So, by the time I left the campus, the rain had already passed over the campus, as well as my Astoria neighborhood.  That meant I didn't have to ride in the rain (or hail!), although the streets ranged from slick to swampy, and there were large pools of murky water on the paths in the parks.  But I didn't care, as Marianela has fenders; the one on the front has a long mudflap.  


Who could have known that a skill I learned as a Boy Scout could help me to ride home in a skirt and blouse without getting doused!


Hmm...Might I actually use calculus or trigonometry one day?  Will I ever fix a tubular (sew-up) tire again?