BACK in the mid 1980s, my friend Bruce and I were almost as obsessed with motorcycles as we are now and, without realising it, we were ahead of our time by being behind the times. We only wanted to ride old stuff, not merely because we couldn’t afford new stuff, but because we preferred the ‘retro look’ of machines and kit, which, today, is considered cool. Bruce took ‘looking old’ a bit further than I did, notably adopting a day-to-day outfit (aged 19) that comprised round-rimmed spectacles, shapeless corduroy trousers and shawl-collar cardigans, all of which was part of a Stanley Spencer phase prompted by hope that the randy artist’s ‘newly revealed promiscuity’ might have had something to do with the way he dressed.
When saddled up, however, our garb was more or less identical: hopelessly inadequate ‘pudding-basin’ crash helmets, ex-RAF flying goggles, spectacularly camp Lewis Leathers ‘Motorway Boots 191’, off-white ‘seaboot hose’
