
Le maillot noir. The black jersey. Doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, does it? Cycling is a sport of tradition, of colour. Famous races evoke certain colours, riders too. Colour influences the dear cyclist more than we realise. We know every shade of grey cloud. We take pride in the tell tale signs of blackened legs after a long wet day in the saddle. We know how hard we pushed by the colour of our cheeks. The colour of our paintwork is a decision we will agonise over more than the name of our offspring.
The psychology of colour
Humans can see over seven million different colours, although reading cycling forums you may be inclined to think it is just a matter of black or white. Seven million! That must be like watching a pro peloton pass in front of your nose.
Yellow food. Orange clothing. Blue drinks. Colour tells us what to avoid. Unfortunately it also tells us what to think, colouring our logic (excuse the pun). Ginger hair. Black skin. White eyes. Identities then, are also defined by colour. We immediately trust somebody should they be wearing a uniform that conforms: police in blue, doctors in white and fast food employees in red.
Fans and teams play to such traits in sport. The colour of your scarf or shirt could be the difference between a smile or a fist. Research suggests football teams in red have a competitive edge, winning more often than teams dressed in any other colour. Boxers in the Olympic Games also tend to win more if they wear the red shorts. So maybe that red bike will make you faster after all.
“Mere colour, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways.”
Oscar Wilde
Apparently even our personalities are coloured, should robust internet tests based on ten questions be believed (I’m summer apparently, a perfect host!). Our moods succumb to colour. To feel blue is to be sad in England whilst the German, ‘blau sein’ (to be blue) means to be drunk or in Russian ‘голубой’ (light blue) means to be homosexual. Idioms and travel should not be mixed.
In China, red symbolises good fortune. Whilst over here in Britain green is thought to be unlucky. The next time you hear the dreaded hiss on your ride, take a look at the colour of the bike with the flat!
Cycling and colour
Rosy cheeks on a cold winter morn. A purple bruise signals a moment of inattention. The black ice we never see. White fingers frozen in January. The brown skunk line down our back because we refuse mudguards. The yellow sick after a particularly violent hill climb. The black hands that speak of a mechanical failure turned bodged success.
Colour plays an important part in our decision making too. We choose our bike primarily based on colour. Research suggests people make up their minds within 90 seconds of first seeing a product and that up to 90 percent of their assessment is based on colour alone. As a cyclist I’d say that’s closer to 100% and takes about 0.01 nanoseconds.
Cycling then has its very own colour scheme.
Merckxian orange
Burnt orange, scorched by speed. You see Merckxian orange on the road and think of one man. The cannibal. Eddy Merckx, destroyer of dreams, champion of champions. The bike, the jersey. Orange. He made them his own. The colours he wore and rode are iconic, as memorable as anything the great man achieved.
After much umming and ahhing, I recently bought a long sleeve version of the famous jersey. I’ll admit to being more Fred Flintstone than Eddy Merckx. Do people shake their heads when they see me wearing the rainbow stripes? Maybe, but they miss my smile. Do people ride faster to prove some kind of ridiculous point by overtaking me? You’ll have to ask them. Do I ride faster to keep such folk at bay? Of course!
Pretty in pink
Yellow peril
Le Maillot Jaune, right? As famous on professional cyclists as infamous it is on amateur cyclists. Why is it a certain breed of cyclist refuses to wear the colour of their heroes? Because they haven’t earned it. And they know they’ll be a target for every other cyclist within eyesight. Wear what you want I say. If it feels good do it. Life is too short to make decisions based on the pettiness and prejudices of others.
White and pure
White bar tape attracts ire from certain quarters. It’s not for me simply because it’s way too difficult to keep clean and begins to look manky very quickly in a hot, sticky summer. I have grey bar tape. It came with the bike, which is itself second hand. I reckon it’s a good six or seven years old! That said it gets frequent wet rinses riding here in the UK.
Polka dots and the rainbow
As above, it is supposedly sacrilege to wear these jerseys. Really? That said, you will not see me in polka dots. A pox, the dots are simply ugly. And the less said about the full shorts and jersey combo the better. The rainbow stripes however? Hell yes. Who doesn’t want to feel like a world champion as they haunch over their bicycle at 12 mph into a slight headwind?
High vis, high fashion
As black as the night
The colour of the masked man, goths, ninjas, bikers, the milk tray man and er, cyclists. Shadows of the streets, those in black are confident enough to disobey the luminous yellow and orange culture of fear. Black is slimming although few cyclists need to worry about such matters. I wore black for many a year simply because cycle clothing is so horrendous. Bright red? Azure blue? Yuk. You can see why Rapha sells although I find that pretty ugly too. Unfortunately there’s still a long way to go until Lyrca makes it onto the catwalks of Paris.
Green peace
What about you?
Like to be spotted in polka? Flourish beneath grey skies? Don racing red to psyche out your Sunday morning crew?
Images courtesy of 1) Unknown 2) AP 3) REUTERS/Benoit Tessier 4) Daily Telegraph 5) Key Palmer images
Colour is certainly something I miss at this time of year. I only recently found out 50 shades of grey wasn’t about north east cycling in winter. I think the assistant in WHsmith must have thought I bought cycling weekly at the same time so I could hide what I was reading on the train.
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I’m with you on hi-viz, can’t abide the stuff…and hi-viz hookers is a new one on me. I had a spell of thinking crisp white was the way forward, but after half a dozen rides it is all permanently stained with an arc of grey-brown up the back and collecting in the seams. Silly me.
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I’m with the 50 per cent of women who loathe pink. Purple, on the other hand, is a wonderful colour. I have a purple helmet and two purple jackets, which is probably more than enough purple. I wouldn’t want to be completely coordinated. Too matchy-matchy.
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I rejoice in all sorts of colours – some hi viz when i feel like it and some matchy match.
Mostly for me its about getting away from “normal” work clothes and putting on the superman cyclist plumage like opening up a peacocks wings. Its kind of like a metamorphosis – no energy- can’t be bothered – slip into your tried and trusted cycling gear and Ah better – now lets get out there. Life is for the riding.
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