Dear Bike Chicks,
You manage to ride the rough streets of Philly in your cute little mini-dresses and heels without a scratch while I huff and puff in my ungainly red bicycle helmet and Keds. And not only can you demurely ride a bike in skirts/dresses (a feat that I have still to master as a pedestrian), you do it all while wearing full makeup. Lipstick. Mascara. Eyeliner. Just tell me how. And why.
First how? What sort of black magic do you use to preserve yourself while rushing down the Parkway in your vintage Raleighs. As much as I try to pull off the too-cool-to-wear-a-helmet look, every time I read about a cyclist getting killed or injured, I give up my dreams of forgoing helmet hair and accept that my chin is going to be imprinted with a red strap-mark.
And the heels. Why the heels? Who rides bikes with heels? I thought I was dreaming the first time I saw a gal rushing down Center City’s South Broad Street on her bike wearing black heels. But then I saw it again. And again. I get it. You want to be feminine. And eco-conscious. And tough. But seriously, one crash and you could be kissing those little pedicured toes goodbye. No joke. I’ve gotten tangled up in bike wheels before. Not pretty. Isn’t wearing covered-toe shoes like the number one rule of bike safety? At least that’s what I learned as a kid.
At the end of a bike ride, I usually look like I’ve been flattened by a steamroller. And you look like you’ve just been to a fashion shoot. Ah, well. C’est la vie. I’d rather not be gorgeous all the time than die trying.