Fashion Victims

Sitting at the lights in the chaos of the Huddersfield Ring Road I glanced to my left to check out the bike that had chugged up alongside. It was a Suzuki LS650, previously named the Savage, complete with midget rider dressed in what he obviously thought the politically correct garb for a wild Suzuki rider. Winding the throttle open on my trusty MZ and glaring at his diamante studded jeans and tasselled headband I began to consider the notion that bikers choose their bike to match their wardrobe...

I hear your scornful laughter through my ‘plugs but this intriguing thought circles my frontal lobes as did a litre of Castrol’s finest as I hurtled away from the dandy on the Savage. Further research was called for - before I present my findings for your critical analysis I ask you one simple question: When did you last see a Superdream rider in Kushanti leathers or a GSXR ridden by someone wearing a wax cotton jacket?

I offer the following observations of bikers to support my theory. I suggest that certain bikers, from the Fat Arse on a Wing to the supine lounge lizard on a ZZR600, are but motorised fashion victims. In the interests of good taste this article excludes mention of the fashions sported by step-thru/scooter owners. There are some life forms that even an MZ rider can't come to terms with...

Consider the following and make your own observations. I refer to the male of the species but feel that the same comments can also be ascribed to those females astride a bike.

Hein Gericke - He wears the complete outfit, the Brando jacket, police pants and tour boots. Rides an TDM850. The bulge in his pocket is one of those nifty tubeless repair outfits. He’s a bank clerk and drives his mum's Metro during the week. Avoid eye contact as he may show you his H-G thermal underwear.

Army Surplus - Wicked looking boots, Desert Storm trousers with too many pockets. His GS Thou Rat-bike leans up against a wall. Thinks Terminator 2 the best bike movie ever and can’t wait to buy another bit of kit as worn by former eastern block conscripts, possibly an external crotch protector.

Leather Boy - a wilder version of Hein Gericke, this time with tassels, cowboy boots and a rather odd wallet with a Harley logo on it chained to his bottom. A sad sight, all he can see is Peter Fonda in his reflection all we can see is Liberace on wheels.

Master Derriboots - His wife likes him to ride her roughly but insists he wears plastic bags from Tesco over his Derries on the bike. His clean-from-new Superslug goes well with his one-piece Frank Thomas Aqua suit that neatly folds up into a rather fetching bum-bag.

Blue Denim & White Paddock Boots - Last seen on local runs during the summer months, usually recuperating from that last burst of gravel rash over the winter and ordering new denims/paddock boots from his mam's Littlewoods catalogue. His outfit matches his RG125 with slack chain, missing panels and horrendous exhaust note.
 
Yellow & Green Luminous Bib - The traffic parts as a weary despatcher blats his way through terrified car drivers. Pony Express Man rides an indestructible CX500 dressed for the worst in a baggy one-piece purple oversuit under his Dayglo vest. It’s the middle of June but he doesn’t notice, it’s bonus time and he’s running on a lean mixture of coffee and uppers.
 
The Sensible Bright Yellow Waterproof Person - Visible from 30 miles on a foggy day. How they laughed and danced when he left the shop clutching a suit on sale since 1978. He bought a GS450 with vast fairing to match the pus coloured suit. He dreams of a spanking new GS500 with even more power. He will keep the suit until the EC makes them illegal for frightening small children.
 
The Wannabe A Racer - Kushanti leathers and Arai lid with matching splash graphics on his GSXR750, seems to appear at petrol stations, mumble incoherently and disappear - to another petrol station.
 
Kaptain Smug - BMW mounted, only allowed to wear a Gortex riding suit on Club orders. Rather than actually ride on a regular basis devotees often parade their new jackboots outside the main dealers every weekend. Anyone found wearing other than monochrome garb is expelled into the lowest orders of German motorcycling - see below.
 
Orange DM’s & Rubber Bunny Suit - Can only be the MZ rider! Cool incarnate he dresses as the fancy takes him, could be tired black leather matched with faded denims, even a Parka. The footwear has to be orange DM's - no way you'll start this rattling heap of crap with Captain Kirk’s finest footwear. [All the MZ riders I ever met were immediately identifiable by their thick woolly jumpers waterproofed by human grease, filthy bucket hat replete with three decades worth of rally badges and beards containing enough food to sustain a whole village - 2019 Ed.]
 
Fat Arse In Stretch Denims - Has to be a Goldwing driver. Matching helmet (open face of course) stereo blasting Dire Straits (appropriately) as he wallows in the town traffic, eyeing his reflection in the TSB window. He wears a shiny black leather and the essential stretch leggings. The plum paint matches his complexion - his other bike is a Volvo.
 
Pudding Basin Benny - Brit biker in grimy Belstaff complete with oil stains on his crotch, oblivious to the traffic. The noise and vibes have long since divorced all feeling from his matching wax trousers and black boots. A derivative of this species of fashion victim is the Brit Special - inspired by the Wild One - his Triumph embossed jacket is set off rather nicely by the US bars.
 
The Greaser - An odd combination of clothing, including an Oxfam sourced overcoat over a grubby leather. The helmet often sports an anti-establishment essay about pigs and/or Hondas and the size of his willy.
 
The Angel - Not to be confused with the above lesser breed. Obligatory back patch refers to him being a relative/slave of Satan. The dress is black and casual, a headless chicken may be worn in season with perhaps a hint of crack about the nostrils. Best not to ask where he got the scarf - it’s human skin.
 
I rest my case. Now it’s time to lace up the orange DM's, shove the toolroll down the front of my jeans, zip up the rubber bunny suit and go find another TSB window...
 
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