Selling the Sizzle: Brandings Both Real and Adhesive ~ Dunia Sepeda

As I mentioned last Friday, though I did travel out of town over the weekend I did not attend the North American Handmade Bike Show in Richmond, VA (or "NAHBS"--not to be confused with the North Umbrian Bike Show, or "NUBS," or the Portland Unicycle Show, or "PUS."). Indeed, the place to which I journeyed contained virtually no bicycles, handmade or otherwise, and during my travels I only saw two bikes actually in motion: one was a department store mountain bike being piloted on the sidewalk, and the other was an orange IRO atop a car filled with luggage and headed east. I can only assume the driver was bound for some university, or else relocating to Brooklyn.

Judging from the all the pictures, blog posts, and "Tweets" though I missed one helk ("helk" lies in between "heck" and "hell" on the obscenity spectrum) of a show. However, the most exciting thing to happen in cycling over the weekend happened many miles from Richmond when, as you can see from this image via someone's Twitter, Taylor Phinney autographed the Lone Wolf's Lotus:

This is nothing less than an orgy of cycling greatness, and I would have doubted the veracity of this photo had not Phinney himself corroborated it. Phinney's signature now resides just beneath that of Lance Armstrong (at least I think that says "Lance Armstrong"--it looks like it could also say "Rast Ashbourg"), and all the Lone Wolf needs now to make this the most awesomely decorated bicycle in cycling history is to install a seat cover made from Johan Museeuw's toupee.

Speaking of seat covers and the NAHBS, it seems that one trend to emerge this year is the surface-less saddle:

This is precisely the sort of innovation that makes the NAHBS so great. While the major manufacturers tend to be derivative, custom builders are not afraid to draw inspiration from outside of cycling and to repurpose medical apparatus such as the speculum, as is the case here. Besides the obvious comfort factor, another advantage of this design is that, as the bike sits out in the sun while you enjoy your cappuccino, it absorbs heat. This means you should have a blistering burn on your posterior by the time your ride is over. Forget saddle sores--incurring an actual brand while cycling is the very definition of "epic." (For the faint of heart, I recommend riding with an oven mitt in your crotch.)

Another growing trend in cycling that was in evidence at the show is Alternative Downtube Decal Placement, or ADDP. See, "Back in the Day," decals generally resided more or less mid-downtube (though closer to the headtube) and between the water bottle mounts and the shifter bosses:

Then, around the 1990s, a few things happened in the world of professional cycling. For one thing, thanks to integrated shifters, shifter bosses began to disappear. Also, frame tubing became increasingly oversized. These changes resulted in more surface area on the bike. At the same time, the Internet was creating an insatiable desire among bike dorks for "bike porn," resulting in such photographic developments as the Obligatory Robust Bottom Bracket Shot, or "ORBS." In turn, manufacturers and sponsors began experimenting with innovative decal placement--realizing, for example, that smaller stand-alone decals would more legible in ORBSs than either traditional decals or the engraved bottom bracket shells of yesteryear:

Thanks to increased tubing area they were also able to make other breakthroughs such as wraparound decals that would be clearly legible regardless of camera angle:

More recently, style-conscious manufacturers and builders have realized that they can simply subtract the main "traditional" decal and leave only the more modern "innovative" decal, resulting in ADDP. Traditional decals are still very much in evidence at the NAHBS (they go well with lugs) but the really "cool" companies use ADDP, and the two most widely-accepted forms (both in evidence at this year's show) are the single logo down by the bottom bracket:

And the single logo way up by the headtube (employed here by Geekhouse, the American Apparel of boutique bike builders):

ADDP is by no means limited to custom builders, either--trendy bike companies such as Charge also engage in the practice:

While "traditional" decals are not going anywhere, ADDP is a quick way to make any bicycle (whether handmade or mass-produced) seem fresh and up-to-date--it's the cycling equivalent of wearing a flat-brim cap at a jaunty angle. In fact, I even experimented with the effect, since it just so happens I recently purchased a new "test-cycle" and I was eager to put it to use. (Anyone with test-cycles knows that an unused test-cycle is an unhappy one.) Incidentally, ever since "jumping the shark" it's becoming increasingly difficult to get things done around here, and even the simple act of purchasing a new test-cycle required seemingly endless amounts of paperwork and red tape. See, "Back in the Day," I used to just buy whatever I wanted, but "Right About Now" I have to formally "requisition" even the most mundane items from myself. Not only did I have to fill out a form to buy the test-cycle, but I even had to submit one to buy myself a sandwich last Thursday:

By the way, I'm still waiting for that sandwich, and I'm hungry as helk.

Anyway, to demonstrate the instant chic-ification of ADDP, I first applied a decal to the test-cycle the traditional location:

(All You Haters Regard My Test-Cycle)

Note that, despite the vibrant decal, the bicycle looks staid and boring. When removed and re-applied in the trendy Geekhouse position, however, the bike seems suddenly stylish:

I'm sure you'll agree that the effect is dramatic. The forward placement of the decal makes it seem as though the rest of the bike is trying to catch up, creating the illusion of constant motion. I should add at this point that when removing a decal from your test-cycle, be sure to do so carefully. While pulling it off quickly Band Aid-style may seem like the best approach, it can cause irreparable damage. I'd also like to point out that the NAHBS has nothing on my test-cycle:

Then, I moved it down to the bottom bracket area, which was equally boutiquey and exciting. It's like the bike is now wearing saggy pants:

My test-cycle with its cheap welds and cheap coffee reference is now a fashion-forward anti-Portland theme bike. If you're suffering from post-NAHBS bike envy, you might want to think twice before spending your money--a cheap bike and some even cheaper ADDP may be all you need.

Lastly, while I'm on the subject of pulling logos off one thing and sticking them onto other things, you may (but probably don't) recall that way back in April, at the height of the Dutch bike craze, I mentioned that clothing retailer Club Monaco was selling $1,000 Royal Dutch Gazelles: