Settle For Nothing.

Although distinctly un-metal, the weather in Melbourne for the past few days has been, to quote the bard, "fucking excellent".  The Heavy Metal Monday staff engaged in a bicycle ride of epic proportions (compared to current riding levels) on Saturday.  Short knicks were worn, and long socks were donned.  The fluro brikos were brought out, and an outrageously good time was had.

But we rode with triathletes.  So short were the ankle socks, and so long were the aero bars, it's all we here at Heavy Metal Monday could do to take to the obscene bicycle antlers with a hack saw.  They would thank us eventually.

Motorists lump us into the same category, but I was struck by how different the mentality, the riding, and the general attitude was between roadies like me, and my new triathlete friends.  

Which brings us to roadie chic.  Just as the inner city is currently overwhelmed with young beardos in training, Beach Rd is literally groaning under the weight of embrocation and Oakely Jawbones.

As far as I can tell, these are the rules of roadie chic:

1. Socks.  Must be long.  Six inch cuff seems to be the current trend.  Last season seemed to be all about white, but black definitely seems to be making back ground.  I've been asked as to why the trend is skewed toward the longer socks.  As a former (and it pains me to admit this) fan of the ankle sock, I can't explain my current obsession with tall socks.  I could probably come up with some clever reason, but the real reason is because I'm an outrageous fashion victim.  Why is it the fashion though?  Calf definition?  

2.Knicks.  Short if Frech and a climber.  Long if a time trialer.  Why?  Cos.

3,  Shoes.  White.  Road grime you say?  Booties mate.

4.  Sunnies.  Here things get tricky.  If you wear Oakely Jawbones, you are a jock.  This is non-negotiable.  If you wear Brikos (current generation) you are probably a hipster, or some kind of stupid trendy.  If you wera old-style Brikos, you are either a mad dog, or a FYXO fashion victim.  Anything else?  You're probably sponsored.  Please note that the minute you take off your helmet, your sunnies go on the top of your head.  Nothing says triathlete like fluro sunnies on your actual face.

5. Wheels.  If you don't race, it is cool to run your Zipp 404's on Beach Road as you ride to Mordialloc.  If you race, 32 hole wheels with some stupid heavy hub are super chic for training.  Racing?  Run your ENVE's.  Bonus points for winning.  Bonus bonus points for rolling a tub.

6. There is a lot of talk about loft re. cycling caps.  Loft entails putting your cap on the top of your head, like an absolute fuckwit, simply because Eddy wore it like that one time, probably when half-cut.  Heavy Metal Monday fully endorses loft.

Critics will note that none of the above is related to actually riding.  That is as it should be.  Roadie chic has nothing to do with riding.  It is about the projection of image.  If you can look good and smash it, you are probably not interested in cycling blogs.  For the rest of us, we can either look bad, or look good.  Winning is an added bonus.  In the case of the staff from Heavy Metal Monday, perhaps the most inept bike racers ever to emerge from the suburbs of Melbourne, any chance to shine on the bike is welcome.  If that glimmer comes from our glistening legs, or the reflection of our Brikos, rather than the sparkle of victory, so be it.

Ladies and Gentleman.  Summer awaits.