Spectator Life

This review is part two of a two part series on picking the right bike for the city-dweller’s electric commute This bike came into being thanks to a terrible London commute. One of the founders of AnalogMotion saw his daily trip to work go from five minutes up in Scotland to an hour when he moved to the capital. And, rather than shrug his shoulders and pack himself onto yet another tube train, he set up this East London electric bike company after raising £350,000 on Kickstarter. The lookIt’s a bike so good-looking I took it out for coffee The AnalogMotion is a stunning bike – so much so that people asked to take pictures of it when I rode it to and from work.

The X2 electrified is the latest from VanMoof, the Dutch company looking to (in their own words) ‘redefine cycling and open it up to the masses’. The X2 is the sister to the slightly larger S2, and both have a non-electrified variant. Owned and loved by an increasing number of London commuters – including, I was reliably informed, Lord Russell of the APPG on cycling – it’s a clear eye-catcher at traffic lights. RideThe VanMoof X2 in Thunder Grey As electric bikes go, it’s fast. A 250-500W motor in the front hub gives this bike all the maneuverability you could ask for. Head into the settings and tell it you live in the US – this disables the daft European speed limiter, which means you can cycle up to 32 km/h instead of 25 km/h.

I was taken by surprise last month while holidaying in Biarritz. As I splashed through the surf towards the beach I passed a woman paddling. She was topless and it struck me that this was a sight you don’t often see any more in France. I first came to France on summer holiday as a young boy and recall asking my mother, who is of Scottish presbyterian stock, why French women didn’t wear bikini tops. She replied from behind her sturdy one-piece swimming suit that it ‘was just the French way’ Not any more. In 1984, a survey found that 43 per cent of Frenchwomen bathed topless on the beach. But a similar poll last month revealed that figure had fallen to 19 per cent.

Last week I walked along Jermyn Street, spiritual home of the gentleman’s suit, and noticed something shocking. The jackets in the shop windows had lots of materials — tweed, cotton, wool — in all colours, shades and checks. But every single jacket had two buttons. When did tailors get so boringly uniform? Why has the three-button suit — the classic style that dominated the 20th century — been wiped off the map? As a diehard three-button man, am I a fogeyish dinosaur, a walking Bateman cartoon: ‘The Man Who Wore a Three-Button Suit in the 21st Century’? I seek solace (and a new three-button suit, in storm- grey, 13-ounce birdseye wool) from Tina Loder, a tailor for more than 30 years, and one of the few women tailors on Savile Row.