Bike Shorts Are The Death Knell Of My Self-Esteem
by Marissa Pomerance
I got sucked in.
Even as someone who literally writes articles about how all fashion trends are lies, I was susceptible to the allure.
The allure of the bike short.
Maybe I was in some kind of a fever dream from staring at photos of Princess Di running errands in her oversized sweatshirt and chunky sneakers and bike shorts and quad muscles.
Or maybe it was seeing photo after photo of rando influencers pairing their bike shorts with crop tops and tiny sunglasses and iced lattes and impossibly perfect knees that made me think, “I must look like that.”
Images from Pinterest
Regardless, it happened.
A few Amazon/Nike/Lululemon orders later, and I was lying in a pile of athletic wear in my closet, sweating from wriggling in and out of tight nylon, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.
But secretly, I was wondering what the hell was wrong with my body.
Which is when it hit me. Here’s yet another trend that’s utter and total and unequivocally bullshit.
Bike shorts came out of nowhere and quickly became the summer bottom du jour. Out with the high waisted cut-offs and in with the “comfortable” shapewear, insidiously designed for stick-ladies, gaslighting the rest of us into thinking we’re the problem.
There’s a confluence of factors that created this lightning rod of a trend.
First, a global pandemic and many-months-long quarantine that encouraged the rebirth of loungewear and did away with the need for jeans, pants, skirts, structure, buttons, zippers, bras, heels, effort. Next, an oppressively hot summer, making running around outside in ankle-length leggings or sweatpants an absolute no. Third—did I mention Princess Diana?
And bike shorts do it all!
Comfy loungewear! Shows off our legs! Keeps us cool—both physically and fashionably! Yes, admittedly, I was attracted to them for the style factor, but also because I needed something to work out in that didn’t make me collapse from overheating. And running shorts with their strange, built-in mesh and ultra-short lengths? No. Bike shorts felt like more than just a trend—they seemed like a real, practical solution. A beacon.
But. Like every other fashion trend handed down to us Normals by the Fashion Elite, bike shorts are not made for us.
I should’ve guessed that something was amiss when every bike short I came across used words like “tummy control” (ew) in the description. All while they were telling me how great and comfortable they were for yoga and pilates and moving my body. HA! Here is the EXACT pair I bought from Amazon—their best-seller, no less.
“Compression” is literally in the name!
And let me tell you—they compressed. Every pair I tried on felt like shapewear, not like the lightweight, stretchy legging material that I was longing for. Just pulling them up over my hips took so much huffing and puffing and jumping and sweating, I needn’t continue on to my zoom pilates class after all.
It wasn’t that I had ordered a too-small size. I know what size I am, thanks. It was that these were intended to fit me like Spanx. They were clearly made to be ultra-tight and suck everything in and smooth all my lumps and bumps so that I’d feel thin and, therefore, sexy slash worthy of love.
Except that they didn’t.
They just squeezed the fleshier part of my larger-than-toothpick legs until my blood stopped circulating, bifurcating my thigh and making me feel like a short stump of cured meat. Not to mention I could barely sit down or stretch or move in them. They were absolutely useless for both “ath” AND “leisure.”
And sure, if the success of Spanx and Skims are any indication, women DO appreciate good shapewear. Particularly under a dress for a rare, fancy occasion. But here’s what women love MOST about shapewear—the glorious feeling of ripping it off our bodies the literal instant we get home.
So why, WHY, are shorts that are intended for exercising and lounging sold as “compression” and “tummy control” garments? Why would brands and retailers think we’d want to spend a second longer than we have to wearing any item which is tight and uncomfortable and corset-like in 2020?
Because obviously, this is what fashion brands and retailers think women find important. Clearly, the notion that women’s desire to be thin trumps comfort or utility still reigns supreme.
Even brands that are women-founded and women-forward and celebrate all body types are sending us subliminal messages that our clothing must compress and smooth and control to make us look and feel good. Even though we might actually be somewhat happier in clothing that didn’t try to compress or control or smooth because it was actually comfortable, functional, and you know, looked better, too.
That message clearly doesn’t make us look good (there’s that aforementioned stuffed cured meat issue). And the message that I *should* be wearing shapewear for lounging or working out also doesn’t particularly make me feel good. Hence that whole death-knell-of-self-esteem and laying-on-the-ground-in-my-closet thing.
And honestly, I wish I had a solution here.
A pair of lightweight, comfortable, flattering summer bottoms that do everything a bike short is *supposed* to do, but look and feel 1000x better. (If you know what that is, please tell us in the comments! I’m desperate!) But until some genius invents that, I’ll just have to keep sweating it out in my regular leggings. Fall is right around the corner anyway. See also: HOW.
The good news is—by the time we’re out of this pandemic, emerging from our cocoons of sweats and pajamas and rediscovering buttons and shoes, wearing real clothes and seeing other people—bike shorts will be over. Just another soul-crushing fad that has already passed. And we can move onto another terrible trend that I can hate-write about!
Well, unless a truly amazing pair of bike shorts comes along. Send help?
Marissa Pomerance is the Managing Editor of The Candidly. She’s a Los Angeles native and lover of all things food, style, beauty, and wellness. You can find more of her articles here.
