Wool cycling clothes

What do the fabric Luddites know that Lance Armstrong doesn’t? If you cycle more than 100 miles a week, you know the guy on the lugged steel retro-bike who insists that good old-fashioned wool performs better than the weightless, moisture-wicking, wind-blocking super fabrics that huge multinationals spend millions on perfecting. Hell, maybe you are that guy.

I am not. Yes, I know that wool has hundreds of thousands of years of evolution on its side. Something about the shape of wool fibers makes wool an excellent regulator of heat. Swiss ski instructors use wool sweaters to keep themselves toasty in alpine climates. Desert nomads wear lightweight wool robes to stay cool on scorching summer days. Wool keeps you warmer than polyester fabrics when it’s rainy, doesn’t stink after a hard ride, etc.

If you listen to some wool zealots, wool does everything so wonderfully well it’s a complete mystery why sportswear companies ever abandoned it: Maybe the CEOs of those companies just hated sheep…

Or maybe the wool zealots are overstating their case just a bit. Truth is, wool has its faults. It may stay warm when it rains, but it also gets heavy as it retains 30% of its weight in water. A wool jersey’s back pockets often droop like an octogenerian stripper’s breasts if you stuff them with too many PowerBars. Most wool jerseys cannot quite deliver that streamlined, second-skin feeling of a well-cut polyester jersey. Wool shorts and tights can wear out astonishingly quickly, and in general, you have to treat wool more carefully than polyester on wash day.

But have you ever seen a sheep that doesn’t look effortlessly stylish? Whether they’re grazing on the vast plains of Patagonia or just doing time at your local petting zoo, sheep always look great: casual, serene, perfectly attired.

By wearing cycling garments made from their wool, you can achieve the same effect.

Indeed, have you ever seen a wool jersey with a skull and crossbones on it?

Have you ever seen a wool jersey with a scene from Star Wars on it?

Thanks to a process known as dye sublimation, polyester cycling jerseys can be decorated with whatever hideous designs a manufacturer can imagine: Flames, dragons, South Park cartoon characters. I am pretty sure that dye sublimation is a process invented by the car companies to make cyclists look clownish and beneath contempt…

But dye sublimation doesn’t work on wool, so wool jerseys are far more tasteful than their plastic counterparts. Instead of ugly graphics, they offer a bold stripe or two, a flocked or embroidered logo, buttons on their pockets. None of this makes me any faster, but at least when I'm falling off the back of the pack, I don't look like a paunchy, out-of-work superhero. Instead, I look like a paunchy European champion of yesteryear, gone to seed now but still able to hit 400 watts on the style-meter.

As an added bonus, wool jerseys are typically very expensive. And what better way to get the surge of confidence you need to make it up that last Category 1 climb on your ride than to know that your Rapha Merino Shirt costs more than many people spend on a suit?