I can't resist a Tweed Ride, even if it's only 11 degrees, the streets are still riddled with ice, and my headlight burned out on me. If I have a chance to wear my vintage fur jacket, I'll take it and boy, am I glad I did. Warm and toasty! And I had a cute hat atop my head, a cloche, I believe is the style.
It was a small group that braved the cold but all wear nattily dressed and I was proud to be seen with these smart looking gentlemen.
Our Winter Tweed organizer and runway model sensation, Ray and his handsome bike!
Father, husband, perennial Tweed clan bicyclist, proud owner of a corduroy man-purse, and New Belgium lover, Will!
We met up at Revolution Bicycles to begin our First Friday Art Walk tour of Downtown Flagstaff, where we viewed statuary . . .
And sampled home brew from the Brewtender himself. Most refreshing, even on a very cold evening.
I must say again, the fur coat kept me amazingly warm. I'm sympathetic to the strong anti-fur sentiments of many of my friends, but 25 years ago my mother saw this "mouton" jacket from the 1950's at a vintage clothing store in Athens, Georgia. She saw me eyeing it and, lamenting my art school clothing preferences, wanted me to have it. It was my first grown up piece of clothing and I love it as much now as I did then. On a frigidly cold night on a bike, I can definitely understand why mountain men wrapped themselves in fur. You just don't feel the cold. Smartwool socks and a cup of hot cider help, too.