I’ll admit it’s a weird brand name for a sock business, but here we are. It’s about longing to be the kind of cyclist who always looks good; who suffers in heat, cold and hills but comes out looking like an Ivan Basso/Fausto Coppi love child.
If only i were Belgian, or French or Italian!
…alas, i’m not. I’m British and i will never know what it means to be ‘Euro’, to be truly stylish on a bicycle, to be able to wear full Italian national colours and sip espresso in a Lombard cafe. To ride a campag dripping Bianchi along azure coastline. That’s not me.
I’l never ‘float’ over the the cobbles of Northern France or Belgium, spitting out the mud and shrapnel thrown up from Europe’s battlefield. Not for me is the jersey emblazoned in the cheap marketing of a flooring company or the local lottery.
Sadly I will never launch a suicidal attack out of a tour de France peloton. Safe in the knowledge that should my lunacy be suucessful, l’equipe will run a cover story based wholly on my future as the hope of French cycling. I won’t be the next Hinault…
I will never be any of these things, because I am British. Our summers are too short, our winters too long.
What i can do is appreciate the myths of cycling and revel in the glory of our European comrades.
Who Are We?
The Men Behind The Socks
Bike rider, Cross Rider, lover all things euro, #sockdoping zealot. The creative side of things.
Has hipster beard and an All City collection