I've heard this is called 'ghost riding' in other countries. Here we call it 'helping out a friend by either fetching their bike for them, or loaning your bike to a friend so they can fetch their bike'. Not quite the same ring to it, but the idea is nice as nice.
Of course it's always nicer if the other bike has a friend on it.
It's not surprising that when Facehunter ended up in Copenhagen, a photo of a bicycle was involved. And of course it was taken with The Lakes in the background. Quintessential CPH.
Even the dreadfully dull Times has tried their hand at men/fashion/bicycle. Yet another journalist reluctantly forced by his editor to cover this strange phenomenon called "bicycling". At least he tried his best.
ACNE of Sweden have teamed up with Bianchi for a new collection, according to Swedish ELLE. I suspect a healthy dose of dark, vodka-induced Swedish irony is in play here. Combined with a biting bitterness at the Swedes' worst Olympic performance in over 2000 years.
Meanwhile, back in Gotham City... A New Yorker shows us the way forward in one of Bill Cunningham's photos.
We're going to reveal a shocking fashion secret. Right here on this blog. For all the world to see. In the closets of most Copenhageners - even the chicest of the chic - there is a rain jacket. Maybe even a pair of matching rain trousers. We don't talk about it much and it's rather uncomfortable mentioning it here but it is true nonetheless. It's our Inconvenient Truth.
It's traditionally a rainy climate in the winter. Drizzly, drab and pooey. Only when the forecast is for day-long rain does the rubber come out. Actually, the Danish Meteological Institute did a study a while back about the odds of cyclists getting rained on during their commute - which is really encouraging. Many Copenhageners aren't THAT fussed about getting bit wet. If it pours down all of a sudden, cyclists huddle together under awnings or trees. If it looks like it'll continue, they end up just getting back on the bike and riding away.
But just like in most regions, we are experiencing our own weather quirks thanks to climate change. At this time of year we are getting downpours. So much that the sewers in some areas can't handle the water. The other day it rained. All day. Pouring. Old man snoring and all that. And out came the dreaded rubber. However, some cyclists, as the two above, seem to make it work. Wellingtons and rain jackets are suddenly quite fashionable. In light rain, there are options available for friends who are heading out together. Just keep your brolley close at hand. It's an art form in Copenhagen, riding with an umbrella. This Dutch invention would be great here in Copenhagen. An umbrella holder for your bike from Drybike.nl.
More rainy day cycling moods - with music. Not to forget the rain poncho airbag combo.
A photographer friend of ours, Julio, was in town recently from Portugal. Here's his take on Copenhagen Cycle Chic. Always wonderful to see someone elses angle on our fair city. A determined stride is a trademark of a Copenhagener, when not on the bike. A casual glance at the mobile. Either checking for text messages or checking the time. Bring a friend for a ride/walk. Gentleman Cycle Chic.
It's been far too long since we've heard from our friend Derek Pearson from BikeRubbish.com in Washington State. Luckily, he sent this photo along the other day. In his words: "Hot date - heading to the outdoor movie with my sweet sweet wife :)" Style over speed, indeed. Thanks, as ever, Derek, for sending the photos along. Here's another one from Derek, in San Francisco.
A Triumph for Cycling in Copenhagen
If you have a new underwear collection and want to show it off in Copenhagen, you use a bike. Oh, and underwear. Triumph paraded models down the pedestrian street in the heart of the city, led by a rickshaw from Flying Tigers Rickshaws - thanks to my mate Alkis who owns the company for this film.
The Wings of Hermes on your legs Now while all bikes have chainguards in Copenhagen - and basically everywhere else with bike culture these - funky trouser clips might be of interest to those who need to protect their trouser legs. Ride with the Wings of Hermes. Available from MOMA.
In Praise of the Bicycle - A little cyclophilosophy in a book by Marc Augé. Available in French. "This ode to the bicycle passes three moments: the myth, the epic poem and utopia. The bicycle has a mythical dimension which is at the same time individual and collective. The bicycle, after taking some blows, has returned due to city policy and its image is the object of a renewal of enthusiasm
One can begin to dream and trace the large features of the utopian city of tomorrow when public transport and the bicycle would be the only means of transport and where peace, equality and clean air would reign after the collapse of the oil tycoons. One can dream of a world where the requirements of cyclists dictate political action.
The bicycle teaches us to compose with time and space. It makes us rediscover the principle of reality in a world invaded by fiction and images. Cycling is humanism and it again opens the door to the dream of the future."
Classic Italian Cyclostyle We can't resist a little plug for L'Eroica, a classic and classy old school Italian affair that celebrates the days gone by when bicycle racers were stylish gentlemen who rode grueling routes and stopped for an espresso and a cognac en route. A far cry from today's lycra louts.
Racing on classic bikes and in classic cycling clothes, L'Eroica is a cyclotouristic rally that has been around since 1997. In short, it's "For bicycle fanatics. For red wine fanatics. For breathtaking panoramas fanatics." l'Eroica. 05 ottobre 2008 in Chianti. Andiamo.
In the morning traffic she rode along sipping a chocolate milk. There is nothing quite so wonderful to see as cyclists who feel secure on the bike lanes of Copenhagen. Indeed, a majority of Copenhageners say, when polled, that they feel safe in the traffic on their bikes.
Our mate Nikolas, in Washington D.C. sent us this story from the local news. The management at the city's Union Station removed a woman's bicycle because it was ugly and they thought it was abandoned. Here's the link - watch the video on the right column.
Nikolas asked if our authorities have ever confiscated a working bicycle just because it was ugly and rusty.
Firstly, well over half the bikes in Copenhagen are ugly and rusty. They are mere workhorses. Nobody would dream of removing it for this reason. With that said, there are thousands of bikes that are gathered up each year, but not unless they are absolutley sure they are abandoned.
Rusty, clunky old bikes are the standard here. There is something aesthetically pleasing about rusty old bikes.
Indeed, if you forgot your bike somewhere, you can count on nature taking it back. Nikolas said, "This begs the question, can one be Cycle Chic with an ugly bicycle?"
Take two to tango at a red light in Copenhagen. Copenhagener with a new plant in the process of transporting it home. A different angle on cycling in Copenhagen. Thanks to a friend, Nicole, in Paris, I have been suddenly presented with a definition of myself. In a word... Moi je suis un flâneur. In more than one word, via Wikipedia:
The flâneur's tendency toward detached but aesthetically attuned observation has brought the term into the literature of photography, particularly street photography. The street photographer is seen as one modern extension of the urban observer described by nineteenth century journalist Victor Fournel before the advent of the hand-held camera:
This man is a roving and impassioned daguerreotype that preserves the least traces, and on which are reproduced, with their changing reflections, the course of things, the movement of the city, the multiple physiognomy of the public spirit, the confessions, antipathies, and admirations of the crowd. ( from "Ce qu'on voit dans les rues de Paris", "What one sees on the streets of Paris")
The most notable application of flâneur to street photography probably comes from Susan Sontag in her 1977 essay, On Photography. She describes how, since the development of hand-held cameras in the early 20th century, the camera has become the tool of the flâneur:
The photographer is an armed version of the solitary walker reconnoitering, stalking, cruising the urban inferno, the voyeuristic stroller who discovers the city as a landscape of voluptuous extremes. Adept of the joys of watching, connoisseur of empathy, the flâneur finds the world 'picturesque.'
