a jersey with boobs

So you know how a few weeks back I posted about the dearth of women’s jerseys without the flowers and all that other lame shit all over it? Well, a bunch of you suggested a bunch of different brands, and naturally I checked them all out.
But one...one stood out.
I thought I had my heart set on the Castelli Magnifica jersey: full zip, lightweight for summer, came in a predominately white color scheme which led me to think that maybe I won’t die of dehydration wearing it, and was just a touch over my expected budget of $150. But then Andy led me to Capo’s website, where I was immediately sold on a white jersey that was not only cheaper but came with boobs...!

Okay, not really, but...how clever. My best friend taught me this trick of framing boobs with a darker color to get them to pop out, and while I’ve never had the balls to execute it, it’s stuck in my mind since. Black is the shade of choice for many women because of it’s flattening effect: it hides the shadows that might protrude from unsightly curves like a muffin top or a tummy. That’s all and well when you’re at a black tie event, but on the bike, if you’re going faster than 5mph for more than 10min, black essentially spells death by dehydration.
But white...so pro, and yet so difficult for women to wear...! White basically takes any curves you have and blows them up by 60%, unless said curves are your boobs, in which case they’re deflated by 45%. So while you might avoid heat stroke in a white jersey, you get to look like a walrus squeezed into sausage casing. If you have broader shoulders like me, they get accentuated by 33%, rendering you into a fatter version of the Hulk on a bicycle. What to do?

Enter Capo’s Cortina jersey [$130]. When I first clicked on it, I expected to see yet another typical white and red jersey. But some genius at Capo has understood the basic concept of adding black accents in all the right places. This means that even if you have nonexistent boobs like me, you don’t have to depend on clever angling and shadow to create an illusion of a rack. BECAUSE CAPO DID IT FOR YOU, ALREADY.
Genius. Really. I can’t imagine what this jersey could do for those ladies who have extant mammary glands. But, that’s not to say that this is the cure-all jersey that’ll keep everything in while lifting other things up and together. Thin and clingy, it fits like a second skin. And being white, that means you don’t get to hide much elsewhere. But fuck me if that thing doesn’t look sharp.

Luckily, I had also ordered the Castelli Leggera vest [$50]. In white, of course. Paper thin but wind and water resistant, it breathed in the right places and appropriately refused to creep up or budge on my ride. It’s fitted enough but keeps things modest, and a little self conscious about my own winter muffin top, I layered it over the jersey yesterday. When I took it off, I experienced the joy of balling it up and cramming it into my jersey pocket. Because apparently that’s what you’re supposed to do; you’re not supposed to cram your Patagonia jacket under your jersey and head home looking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Because that looks retarded, even on me.
So while I’m hesitant to get into the functionality of either the vest or jersey - they still smell new! - I did get a fair amount of appreciative looks yesterday. Which is the only thing we women care about, anyway. Just kidding! No, but if you’re in the market for a women’s jersey made with boobs in mind, do check out the Capo Cortina.
And if you order from Competitive Cyclist, take it from me that the people who work there are the nicest people around. Seriously. Not only did they call me because I was a dumbass and made a mistake when I entered my credit card info, they also pronounced my name right. And let me tack that jersey onto my original order.
Seriously <3 them. Now go stalk their site and get yourself or your loved one the most ingenious jersey I’ve found so far. Go go go.

being sold short

Dear sirs [and I mean sirs] in the cycling industry,
I am a 26 year old female law student who is in love with bicycles. I commute to school in all kinds of weather, sweat it out on the rollers in the winter, and ride outdoors every chance I get. I’ve grown accustomed to the sweaty rides, messy hair, and the image in the mirror when I manage to squeeze myself into Lycra. Arguments could be made that I’ve completely let myself go. However, like most women, I still want to look good while I’m pushing those pedals.
When I got wind of Rapha’s new women’s line, a [male] source told me that it was “only” going to be a pair of shorts, a jersey, and a jacket.
“Only?,” I responded, “at least they’re making some women’s stuff!”

I think he shrugged in response, or possibly nodded. I was excited, and couldn’t see why my source expected me to be disappointed at the limited nature of the new line. What I failed to realize then was that my own statement was an admission that, since I’ve started cycling, I’ve gotten far too used to selling myself short.
In an industry where most of the consumers are male, it’s not surprising that women are asked to take a backseat. I understand market demand and enough economic concepts to realize that asking every bicycle company to devote half of their resources into development of women’s specific gear/bicycles/accessories borders on the insane. But there’s a big middle that you guys are missing here, and I’m pretty sure the women are getting restless.
Take a look at Competitive Cyclist [a site I frequent because I know they only carry quality products]. There are 7 jackets/vests listed for women, under 5 brands. Compare that to the 35 jackets/vests listed for men, under 10 brands. At 39 for men vs. 29 for women, the split for short-sleeved jerseys is marginally better; but the latter also includes 9 sleeve-less jerseys. Sure, tank tops are great for hot summer rides, but you can’t legally race without sleeves.
Yes, there are brands like Terry and Luna Gear who only cater to women, and that’s great. But just because I’m a girl, doesn’t mean I want to always look like one when I’m drenched in sweat and struggling. Besides, how am I supposed to be taken somewhat seriously with flowers festooned on my back, chest, and shoulders? It’s bad enough when the only [road] bike that comes in my size also includes some terrible vector graphics of hibiscuses...why do I have to be forced to wear the same print all over my body?

Given this dearth of women’s cycling gear without the pink, the too-bright colors, or the rounded standing collars that make me look like a linebacker, I’m prone to jumping up and down happily when any company decides to produce some stuff for the fairer sex. But when you compare the options available to men, it’s hard to avoid the conclusion that the industry has consistently thrown us [women] a bone, with the mild expectation that we should be happy with whatever meager offerings we get.
And you know what? That’s insulting. It’s insulting that I’m expected to be happy with it, and it’s insulting that I’ve come to accept this as a given. I’m far from unique; there must be hundreds [if not thousands] of women out there who love to ride, who will eagerly open their wallets for gear that flatters but doesn’t simultaneously dumb down, that looks sharp but affords all the technical aspects the guys get in at least 10 different forms. And you are - for the most part - ignoring us.
That said, I’ll probably drop a pretty penny on some Castelli gear later this week, and resist the temptation to forcibly adopt running gear to work on the bike [but with Lululemon around, it’s hard to resist]. But, it did take me two weeks to find a jersey I think I might be happy with, and there’s no guarantee that other women aren’t just giving up. Or worse, settling for being content with something that should be expected of good cycling gear.
Female cyclists are a tough bunch. But being human [and female], we sell ourselves short in too many other areas of our lives; we shouldn’t have to do the same every time we get dressed for a bike ride.
Give us the credit we’re due. You may be surprised at what it might do for you, too.
Sincerely, Kaiko S.

sniff, roll, cough

These days, a cough, sneeze, or sniffle is enough is send me running. Preferably outdoors.
Like trains, buses, and crowded public areas, classrooms are cesspools of bacteria and germs. I made a vow this year not to get H1N1. Not so much because I heard that it sucks more than having your impacted wisdom teeth torn out of your mouth without anaesthetic, but because I simply can't afford it. November means my sights are set on the goal of finals. I don't have time to have sickness derail me.

Of course, even with all the time I spend indoors, away from people, apparently the internet can carry diseases too. Because when Competitive Cyclist reported on his "lung-clotting cold" and mentioned me in the same breath, I somehow started to sniffle. And sneeze.
Okay, that girl in my class who was hospitalized with H1N1 and double pneumonia might have had something to do with it. As well as the guy who sits next to me in tax class and probably doesn't shower on a regular basis. The end result is, however, the same: I am sniffling my way through intervals on the rollers. Total suck.

And because these things are quite contagious, the Bianchi hasn't been feeling much better. Crusty brake pads, rims coated in a layer of grime, and a chain that's as stretched thin as my sanity these days. Being a negligent bike mom, I hadn't addressed my ailing two-wheeled wonder until last night. Rims finally got wiped down, the underside of the downtube de-crusted, chain lubed, and the saddle even got some Proofide treatment.
It was like dirty therapy. Hands oily and black, I couldn't be happier. Or feel more productive.
Apparently a clean bike didn't do much for my cold, though. I'm back to clutching my cup of tea as if that's going to make this runny nose go away. But hey, I'll at least look good biking to the ER if I do end up with H1N1...