But these are no ordinary tan lines. Oh no. Cyclists wear their UV souvenirs with pride. And like any good species, our tan lines have evolved. So sit back (preferably not on a saddle), grab a bidon, and let’s take a tour through the glorious evolution of the cyclist tan.
1. The sock line: where it all begins
Ah, the humble sock tan. Every cyclist’s first rite of passage. It starts off subtle—just a faint ankle bracelet of melanin. But give it a few weeks and suddenly your lower legs look like they’re dipped in milk. Pro tip: The sharper the line, the stronger the flex.
Warning: Removing socks at the beach may result in blinding nearby civilians. Sunglasses recommended.
2. The glove ghost
It’s not just your legs. Those full-finger gloves you wear in the name of “grip” and “comfort”? Yeah, they’re turning your hands into two-tone horrors. Bonus points if you’ve got little holes on the back of your gloves that give your skin a nice polka-dot pattern. Your hands now resemble a Dalmation in mid-moult.
3. The short-sleeve stamp
This one hits around late May, when you switch to short sleeves and the upper-arm tan line emerges. It’s bold. It’s unapologetic. It’s impossible to match with any formal wear. The short-sleeve stamp says, “Yes, I could have worn sunscreen. But then how would people know I climb hills for fun?”
4. The helmet strap etchings
Perhaps the most artistic of the cyclist tans, this one requires consistency, discipline, and the commitment to never, ever adjust your helmet straps. Over time, you develop symmetrical white lines slicing down your cheeks like battle scars of the Lycra warrior.
This is the kind of tan line that doesn’t just say “I ride bikes”—it says “I live on a saddle and have a deep emotional bond with my chamois cream.”
5. The sunglass mask
Cyclists don’t squint. We have expensive eyewear for that. Which is why, after a few sunny rides, we all resemble off-brand raccoons. You’ve got the goggles burned into your face, and if you’re lucky, a perfect reverse-Panda effect around your eyes.
It’s not ideal for wedding photos, but it is ideal for intimidating other cyclists at the café.
6. The unfortunate mid-season shuffle
Every cyclist has tried switching kit brands or sock lengths mid-season. This results in what can only be described as “cycling tan lasagna.” Multiple lines, uneven shades, and the deep regret of ever thinking you could get away with ankle socks just once.
7. The full pro
Only achieved by elite-level commitment and questionable fashion choices, the Full Pro involves seamless tan lines from cap to shoe. It’s like your skin is the kit. There’s a certain elegance to it, almost like a zebra’s stripes—if zebras were obsessed with FTP and refused to go to brunch.
Tan lines are like a cyclist’s résumé. Don’t bother with Strava—show us your ankles. So, the next time someone scoffs at your weirdly shaded arms, just smile, nod, and drop them on the next climb. After all, some people wear medals. We wear UV radiation.
