Designing jerseys: dictatorship vs democracy

What do you call a horse designed by committee?
A camel.

It’s one of my favourite sayings, largely because it’s usually true, as evidenced by the decidedly protracted process my local ride bunch has been going through in our quest to create a ‘team jersey.’ Everyone has opinions and rightly so. But holy crap. Forget the Barrangaroo redevelopment on Sydney Harbour. You either need an obdurate dictator, or the patience of saint to see a project of this magnitude through. Simple it is not.

Thankfully, we have our saint. His name is Tom. After months of perseverance and his continued enthusiasm and good humour, we actually appear to be getting close. Unless things change (always possible, of course), we have an agreed name, colour scheme and kit supplier. We were even able to check out the jersey and bib sizings with our post-ride coffee last weekend. This no doubt made for highly entertaining viewing for passers by, considering we did it all on the footpath in broad daylight; way too much bare flesh on show for a Winter’s morning, albeit a sunny one.

The Didi Senft, of course, is in the detail. Our final obstacles appear to be whether we spend an extra $10 per unit to have glow-in-the-dark stripes on our arms, and whether our bunch name should be emblazoned across our backsides or not. Frankly, I’m beyond caring. I just want a kit. Pretty much anything will do. Preferably before Christmas.


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