WHY DO I RUIN MY CLOTHES?

When I was in high school a friend of mine gave me his brother’s Van Halen concert shirt. Well maybe he didn’t give it to me exactly, but I did end up being its owner, so the point of it being “given” or “stolen” is moot. So anyways, this shirt was true to its late eighties hard rockin’ roots; faded black, bad graphics, and the sleeves had been removed to emphasize just how hard core of a rocker the original owner was. Its inclusion in my teenage wardrobe was the beginning of a new world of fashion for me.

I started cutting the sleeves off all my T-shirts. It’s not like I was doing it to show off my guns or draw attention away from my hair (which at the time was shaved on the sides, spiked with gel on top, backed up with a bleached mullet in full effect). I must have been doing it because it was just the METAL thing to do. My mother did not approve of my fine scissor work, and she often asked me why I was ruining my clothes. I figured that as long as I was wearing them I wasn’t ruining anything. The shirt still served its purpose (which must be nipple coverage) so I would have to argue its functionality should have never been called into question.

Short sleeves don’t do anything other than hide unsightly armpit hair. If the atmospheric conditions are of the cold variety you need long sleeves, but short sleeves are as useless as ties. I would have to surmise that the same genius that invented the tie also had a hand in putting useless sleeves on perfectly good-to-begin-with sleeveless garments. I guess the only people to ever figure out a useful function for the short sleeve would be the Brando-inspired greasers who would roll their cigarettes up in them for safe keeping to serve as a badge of pride, stating “I don’t fear cancer, I wear it” to the rest of the world.

Let’s fast forward through my college years of sleeveless Anthrax and AC/DC shirts and move onto my post-college years. I just got into mountain biking, but it was years before I could afford my first poly-pro jersey. When I finally got one it was an abomination to mankind and a sad reflection of the state of cycling garb in the late nineties. I found it in the Nashbar returns bin which meant it was cheap and too ugly for the original owner to actually wear. Even though it was hideous, I couldn’t imagine cutting the sleeves off my newly acquired high performance kit, but I hated shoulder shrouds all the same. I got to the point where it was them or me, and since I need me to be me, I cut them away.

Since then, most of my jerseys have been modified to fit my very rigorous wardrobe standards. Superfluous material has hit the floor time and time again in the name of cool comfort and metal mentality. Bargain bin finds, purchased on sale, or race podium schwag… they all fell victim to the blade.

After I won the 24 Solo Single Speed Worlds I received an email from Brent at Twin Six asking me if I would like to rock some thread for T6. I had to be upfront with him and let him know that some of the graphics that he and Ryan had put so much love into creating were going to be cleaved from the shoulder down. He didn’t flinch, and my love affair with Twin Six has continued to this day.

I’ll admit that some of my jerseys have never seen the pointy end of a pair of shears, as I do have some common sense. When the temps are cold it sure is nice when my arm warmers meet some other material on my body to cover my pasty skin. Some of the fine duds that Twin Six has provided me over the years are just too pretty to circumcise. The sleeves either have some bold, stand-alone graphics that are too close to fine art to be shit-canned, or they are emblazoned with graphics that tie the jersey together like the rug in Dude’s living room. I have the guts to fight fashion, but sometimes even I can’t destroy the creativity of a couple of artists.

The Dude would understand.

teamdicky