Free-Wheeling Fashionistas

If an 80,000 turnout at Critical Mass wasn't evidence enough that cycling's the next big thing in Budapest, check this out: Just an hour ago, a standing-room only crowd crammed into the narrow confines of the Szoda Bar in District VI to take in a fashion show of nouveau peddal pushers, courier bags and other designer clothes and accessories for chic urban bicyclists.

The fashion show complemented the opening of an exhibit of photos featured in a bicycling calendar released this month by the Museum of Ethnography. But the main draw was the fashion show. By the time it started at 6 p.m., every bike rack, signpost and window grate in front of the Jewish Quarter hangout had several bikes chained to it, so latecomers (such as myself) had to search, squeeze and cheat to secure their wheels.

Inside, it was elbow-to-elbow mayhem, and getting to the bar looked like an impossible mission. However, a spot smack dab in front of the beer tap miraculously opened up moments before the show started. So by the time the models began strutting down the ad hoc catwalk in front of the bar, I not only had my pint of Pilsner but also a prime point of view to shoot the action.

Virtually everyone there was in their early to mid-20s, roughly half my age, but I did see a couple similarly geezerly attendees (relatively speaking, of course), including Gabor Kurti, director of local bike courier company Hajtas Pajtas and lynchpin of the Budapest Critical Mass movement, and Janos Laszlo, president of the Hungarian Cyclists Club. Laszlo interpreted the turnout as vindication for immersing himself in the urban cycling movement. "Have you ever seen so many people turn out for a photo exhibit?" he asked in disbelief. I agreed it was remarkable, especially with so many having come by bike. Laszlo shook his head in wonder. "And in the middle of winter!"

Bikes Get the Royal Treatment

Bike promotion can come in more subtle forms than 80,000 cyclists massing on city streets demanding equal rights. In a Hungarian production of The Emperor's New Clothes, currently showing at the Budapest Opera House, the scheming thieves who make the bogus royal outfit arrive at the palace on bicycles. They pedal down the aisle between the seats and then hoist the bikes onto the stage, where they're parked until the closing getaway.

My co-worker, Rachel, who saw the show, wondered if this could be construed as bicycle promotion. I'm sure the intention was for dramatic or comedic effect, but I think, sure, the use of bicycles in entertainment can only be good for the cause. OK, now I'm going to date myself to the Stone Ages: the connection that comes to mind is the Blue Öyster Cult concerts I saw as a teenager. Everytime they played the Steppenwolf cover Born to Be Wild, the lead singer, Eric Bloom, would roll out onstage revving up a big Harley-Davidson chopper. I don't know if this is true, but I wouldn't be surprised if the band would borrow a bike before each show from a local Harley dealership, and probably at no charge, because Harley would just be happy that BÖC were perpetuating the brand's rock-'n'-roll mythos.

I've often thought that the cycling movement could use similar help from the entertainment industry, and it turns out it does! There's some bike blogger in New York who gets occasional gigs as a consultant for bicycle product placements in Hollywood movies. Amazing.

And by the way, if you're Andrew Vajna or some other Hollywood honcho and you need advice on plugging bikes at your next Budapest shoot, you know who to contact.