Posted by: ham8cheese | December 1, 2009

tweed by osmosis

Mr. Spoke's vintage falling-apart Scotch House newsboy.

Unlike the hipsters who are catching on to cyclocrossnow while it is still underground,” I am just noticing the Tweed movement now, after even the most mainstream of media has written it up. I realize this makes me both slow and unhip — almost like not owning a flannel shirt until after Kurt Cobain killed himself.

Looking around at the Bike Expo last week, I emerged from under my rock to find myself thinking: Huh. There are quite a few oddly nattily-dressed people here (like B. Spoke Tailor, to take just one example)! And also: Huh. There are all these cute riding caps and every single one seems to be houndstooth or tweed or some other gentlemanly material!

As trends have a way of doing, I think tweed may just be getting under my skin. That is not to say that I’m going to show up at my nonprofit job dressed like Tiny Tim (at least not this week, anyway). But when I was browsing the racks at the Out of the Closet on Church this past weekend, I found myself strangely drawn to decidedly tweedy britch-type items. I walked out with a pair of $5.25 tweed britches that fit like a glove. Tweed by osmosis, I guess.

I’m thinking that notwithstanding my tweedy britches, and Mr. Spoke’s various tweedy hats (he has a penchant for Harris tweed), and my tweedy suit vest, I wouldn’t actually qualify to be a card-carrying member of the tweed-wearing classes. For one, there is my bike helmet which, lovely as it is, kind of screams period inappropriate. I’m also not ready to commit to wearing tweed 24-7. (I mean, my single tweed outfit would start looking grungy after a few days.)

But it sure is fun to dip my toe in tweed. Maybe you’ll see me at the next Tweed Ride. Or perhaps at the Dickens Fair (which, by the way, obviously should actually be “Faire”) . . . .

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