Guido’s fashion sense has never been the sharpest, but he reckons a sword could be just the thing to go with that new riding outfit…
Is it too cynical for words to say us motorcyclists are nothing more than a pack of overpowered peacocks? I mean really – why on earth would you spend over two grand on the latest and greatest race suit, knowing full well that you’ll probably use it in anger on the track maybe half a dozen times, if ever. (About now, just about every clothing distributor in the country is choking on their beer and wondering how much it will cost to put out a contract on me. To you lot: At risk of having a coronary, keep reading.)
But really, why buy such a thing? A second-hand one will probably do and, frankly, off the bike most of them make you look like an exotic beetle that’s just taken a dump in its trousers – so you can’t use them when you’re not riding. When was the last time you wore one on a date?
So a second-hand one will do almost as well, though it won’t look anywhere near as cool because the graphics went out of fashion about a year after it came off the rack (another warning…), even though the leather is still fine. And no, it won’t ever come back into fashion. Designers have this frustrating knack for recycling styling cues but putting just enough of a new twist on them to ensure you look a dag and a cheapskate when you try to get away with the real retro stuff.
Okay, so why spend the dough? There is one halfway good argument, which is the latest gear, like the bikes it’s designed to go with, has taken advantage of more knowledge and better materials to become a safer whole. Now that I can accept, in part. The one flaw in that reasoning is that if we were all so concerned about safety, we’d walk. As the owner of half a dozen motorcycles, one of which is aptly named Hannibal, I can’t put too much conviction into any discussion of safety.
Maybe we have to admit it – that we like to look good. In some cases (I just checked the mirror) this is an awe-inspiring challenge. Having been reminded by my daughter that I look much younger with my helmet on, I have even considered keeping the full-face as a permanent fixture.
So many of our decisions surrounding motorcycles have everything to do with how we perceive ourselves, and want to be perceived by others. Any pretence of logic is nothing more than verbal window dressing. And why not? We’re really doing this for fun, aren’t we?
After all you don’t buy a motorcycle that’s quicker than a Ferrari because it will get the milk home fresher. Or if you do, seek psychiatric counseling immediately. We do it because we can and there’s a sneaking suspicion that many people simply won’t understand.
Though you can take it too far. A fashion I spotted in the UK recently, which I dread seeing here, is fitting a plastic replica of a rooster crest to your helmet. This apparently marks you as a wild and crazy guy (or girl). Or a twat, depending on who’s the fashion critic. After seeing a few of them getting around, I was convinced they were too ridiculous for words and bound to fade out.
Then, after watching the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, I couldn’t help thinking that someone probably thought the same when the Grenadier Guards first got into those huge bearskin helmets, which make our rooster mates look a little tame. Perhaps the Guards get away with it because of tradition – or it could be that most of them are six feet tall and carry very sharp swords. Which might be an argument for motorcyclists also carrying over-sized cutlery, but let’s not go there.
Despite the temptation, I’ve yet to rush out and buy a helmet crest – instead preferring to wait and see if they take off over here. Maybe I’m just lacking that killer peacock instinct…

Guy "Guido" Allen