bike 'stache

There's nothing like being in one of the world's largest cities, back near friends and the only family that lives stateside...and being confined to a bed because you're burning up with a fever.
Exciting, right?
Actually, even for a domestic homebody like myself, it really wasn't. Multitasking was out of the question; as was getting out of bed. But, it gave me the perfect excuse to clean up some unfinished business. And I don't just mean watching Half-Ton Dad, Half-Ton Teen, and Half-Ton Teen, Part 2: Survival of the Half-Ton Teen.
I mean the unfinished business that had me leaving the bike at home, and toting a suitcase down to NYC instead. The unfinished business that I finally got around to after my fever subsided [after I got that whole "sleep" thing out of the way] yesterday, stuffed in a bag, and delivered to some awesome friends. Late handmade Christmas presents crafted from my little fingers and transported across the globe from Tokyo to NYC.

The popularity of collars and merino items might have had something to do with my choice of what knitted gift to give to my cyclist friends this season, as well as the popularity of facial hair this time of year. Inspired by the Incognito pattern available on Knitty, I chose merino wool yarn instead of alpaca [I couldn't get the yarn listed on the pattern in Tokyo], and changed the gauge accordingly [for the knitters, the more complicated "tangy" version of this pattern is well worth the extra little effort]. The mustaches also got modified [how could I not design a crazy long, curly 'stache for Brett?], and Andy's got the royal "NYC Velo" customization.

Too bad when I managed to make it outside and to the shop yesterday, bag full of cookies, rice crackers, and mustached collars, half the recipients of the collars were already wearing their own homegrown 'staches. It was still cold enough to have them excited about the gifts, though, and tomorrow looks freezing enough to force them to wear it [muahahahaha!].
Unfortunately, I'll be leaving this fair city tomorrow, and with two days eaten away by a fever, I feel a little cheated. Still, I have a full 24 hours left here with my favorite people. And that's a good thing, too, because...well...I haven't quite finished all my unfinished business. There's a collar still on deck [needles?] for Mike, and with a promise of a picture of Andy, Brett, Justin, and Mike with their fake 'staches, there's motivation to get that thing done by the time I board a bus tomorrow afternoon.

Besides, with no bike around, recorded episodes of Law & Order, Intervention, and Hoarders, plus expectations of snow later today, what else I should be doing than sitting on a couch sipping coffee, and looping that yarn around two needles?

breaking away

Still spinning on this tdf high, it's all I can do to wait for the weekend where a tdf brunch is planned.
I'm secretly [okay, not so secretly anymore] scheming. Brioche from Bouchon Bakery or Balthazar? Or should it be a croissant? Coffee or an Americano from Abraco? I'm torn.
But one thing I'm certain of: even if I don't expect him to win, I'll have my sights on Lance, for sure.
Can you tell I'm a fan? And being Japanese, that's defined in the most manic way possible. Because although I've never been to Austin, TX [or even close to Austin, TX], I'm already a fan of Mellow Johnny's. Ignoring the obvious Lance connections, the concept of Mellow Johnny's is hard not to love: a coffee shop attached to the bike shop, all kinds of incredible bikes, and they even offer spinning classes and rides for women.
I may have posted about PDX earlier, but Austin is looking like a very good contender city, too.

And when the object of my affection throws a party with Mellow Johnny's to celebrate the 30th Anniversary of "Breaking Away" [even enacting the last scene!], well, I'm going to celebrate in my own way.
Unable to watch the Tour, but dying to be a part of it, I hatched this idea about a week or so ago, and got to embroidering late last week. My first attempt at embroidering something so minute, I found out that not only do I dislike embroidering straight lines, curves sort of bother me too. And this, like most things, was [unfortunately] full of both.

Completed late Sunday night, it made me feel sort of better that I won't be able to fly down to Austin this Sunday, when the men of Rapha will partying at an event that, if you're in the area, is not to be missed. But if I could, I'd be wearing this hat - hand embroidered with lots of love for the tdf, Lance, Mellow Johnny's and Rapha - hollering "CUTTERS!!!" at the top of my lungs. Instead, it's been entrusted to a modern day Dave Stoller to be delivered to Austin, TX. Hopefully on a bicycle with the drivetrain on the correct side. And perhaps even on his head.
Meanwhile, I'll be pushing away feelings of jealousy and the urge to pout in disappointment at another unattended not-to-be-missed event. I may even be crossing my arms. But hopefully this will be on a couch, in front of a TV with cable, brunch within easy reach, and surrounded by bicycles.

surprisingly exclusive

I'm not going to lie, I secretly love owning exclusive things.
The earrings I got in a small store in a stylish Tokyo neighborhood, the bracelets I never take off, and the tiny track frameset I now proudly own. Sure, other short people own the same Dolan, but none in Boston, and none have doused that frame in so much pink.
Small surprise, then, that I like to make exclusive things too.
But, it is sort of surprising that I'm currently [back] in New York City, with a bagful of new hats, for a new shop. The concept is the same, but the everything else seems completely different. Which sort of resulted in something like two weeks of crazed hand painted hats inspired by bright sneakers and my personal love of the 80s.

And it also resulted in panicked fits of nervousness and apprehension and the conviction that these are not going to move. I almost backed out of a weekend down in the city, despite a promise for Americanos and french fries on someone else's tab. I spent the morning sipping coffee, stalling and balking at leaving my sister's apartment to head to the shop, the bag full of new hats still burning a hole into my confidence and self-esteem.
I'm finally getting off the couch, off the Internet, and out of the apartment to head to the East Village though. Because I hold myself to keeping my word, and a promise was made to NYC Velo for an order of 10 hats [okay, I did one better, literally, and am delivering 11]. It took some late nights, some stress-fueled tears, and some coaxing by friends to get them done. They're finished though, and seemingly just in time; I'm so anxious right now that I almost need them out of my life.

And with the added weight of being an exclusive run for a very reputable shop [evidence of their awesomeness here, if you scroll down a bit], I'm going to worry about them. Obsessively.
One more reason, why, if you're in the city, you should stop by. I mean, even if only to let a worried mother hen know how her babies are doing in a strange new city.

adorkable

My first boyfriend was a computer science major [yes, I started dating in college]. He was clean cut, played Ultimate Frisbee, and was his high school's valedictorian. He also watched Star Trek and loved video games. He didn't totally look it, but he was kind of a dork. I thought he was the most adorable thing, ever.
Until we broke up, of course.
Still, I've always had a soft spot for dorky things. Like I find abacuses sort of charming. I really want a Casio calculator watch. And I've played my share of a certain MMORPG.
So when I found myself surrounded by cyclists of every shape and size, at least half of which had on one of those unavoidably bright yellow traffic vests, I didn't cringe. In fact, it was really sort of endearing. Sprinting to Cambridge to drop off hats that I'd promised for months and months, I found myself in the middle of the Amory Park Brookline Bike Parade. I vaguely remembered being handed a flier about it at an intersection on Friday but had proceeded to completely forget about it.

Catching up to the tail end of it, I chatted up a few bike cops before winding my way up the parade. And right before I turned off Beacon to hop onto Comm, I saw the immense peloton that was the Bike Parade. It was impressive. And while it was sort of, well, dorky, it was the good kind of dorky. The kind that makes you smile to yourself because people are having so much fun. The kind of dorky that reminds you that cycling doesn't always have to be about speed and competition and training.
Heading towards Comm, my legs finally moving at a reasonable pace, I unconsciously started to push myself to go faster, faster, faster. But slowing down at a light, I wondered why. It was Sunday. I was rushing to Cambridge...just to rush there. And I was getting sweaty and gross.

I coasted the rest of the way there, resisting the urge to pick up and haul ass. Decked out in all black, my poor choice of clothing dictated that I was sweaty when I arrived to chat with friends. And watching them get excited over a few cycling caps, I realized how bike-dorky we all are. It's just hard to tell without the yellow vests.
No wonder I love bike people.

fabricated crises

1.57am. That's when I finished.
Not like that's unusually late these days. Between rides, blogs, and scheming, late nights are becoming part of the whole routine. A dizzying one that has me nearly falling asleep as I brush my teeth and having small fits of existential crises over gchat. All while some part of me lists all the things I have to do the next day, then tells me to stay up some more. I'm not that tired, am I?
Actually, I kind of am. But it's totally my fault.
I chose to hang out yesterday after my ride, instead of finishing off the latest batch of hats for Cambridge. So those got done after dinner, stretching into the next morning. There was good IMing company, but in the end it was me, a needle and thread, and a pair of scissors. Hand finishing each and every one.

But I like this batch, a lot. There are the classic black ones [Zach insisted on more black], then some lighter ones, more summery and a little more adventurous. I even mixed some gray ink for the brims, the white getting slightly redundant.
The sewing was getting redundant too, though. Barely able to see, mostly unable to think, and completely dead tired, I was rambling and ranting to a partner in crime.
"What am I doing? Why am I doing this? It's 2am," I said.
To which he advised:
"The best cure for a 2am existential crisis = sleep."

Yeah, maybe. I mean, I should do more of that. Soon. After I finish some more hats, cut some more fabric, take some more pictures, write some more posts. After that, and the errands, then the gearing up for work on Monday.
After that, maybe.

gage & desoto

I love "Zoolander."
Maybe that's why designers scare me.
Okay, not really. Designers have always been sort of intimidating. I have this image of them as being self-absorbed and a little crazy. A slightly socially awkward drama queen whose erratic behavior is only forgiven due to the ability to create, cut, and sew beautiful things together. And one that loves to judge.
My limited closet is enough reason to avoid this species of human. But with the hat making thing, it's getting harder. And yesterday, at NYC Velo, I met one. In person.
An email popped into my inbox last week, a hello from the Big Apple from a designer who loves bicycles. One who wanted to trade. With a trip down to the city planned in two days, packing to be done, and hats for Cambridge in the works, I wasn't sure I could finish one in time. But it was a request for a "Boston" hat. For a designer in NYC? This was going to be interesting...and worth a late night or two.

Meet Mike Spriggs. The man behind Gage & Desoto [and those infamous "I *cog* NY" t-shirts], he's a Boston transplant that picked up and moved 4 hours south for legitimately insane traffic and a city that necessitates biking 10 miles [out of the city] to get to good training routes. And after hearing that he still wears Bosox gear in NYC, maybe this crazy city suits him better than cutesy New England [come on, even Southie has a measure of quaint...Irish...drunken...charm].
A bus ride and a handful of emails later, I met him yesterday to listen to stories about being a courier in Boston, Cambridge Bikes when it was in Harvard Square, the intensity of NYC, and his trip to Beijing, Osaka, and Tokyo. There was no pretension, and I was the sole provider of the socially awkward factor [as per the usual]. And despite my wide-eyed terror at biking a few short blocks, I even got to see the new Gage & Desoto t-shirt design:

After talking labels and with a promise for a screened t-shirt [of course, it'll be blogged about, but I'm not telling which one I want...yet], I headed home, with a new friend in the city.
Too bad this isn't Boston. But I'll be back down here again.
And it won't only be for coffee and fabric.