"well, i'm wearing my granny panties under my bike shorts" was the response from my left, as we resumed watching the backside of the guy in front of us, who's only 'visible lines' were of his chiseled sinews through the spandex.
i went commando for the first time tonight (this didn't work out so well for the integrity of my bunk bed mattress the last time i tried it) during our group road ride, which was probably the only faux pas not committed during the 20 mile excursion through cow pastures and taxidermists.
despite ocd more pervasive than the latest robert ludlum at the border's express in jfk's terminal 2, the donning of the undies is more about not wanting to expend time scraping and chipping the crusty bits out of my chamois- girl's shorts look like a scalextric race track on the inside, that's a lot of grooves for gunk to get stuck in.
and while mr 'visible sinew line' can get away with sponsorship text across his arse, those of us, who are more glutealy endowed, should just stick with plain matte black, maybe even a bin bag.
coming soon to an REI near you, a new line of women's cycling shorts with "ride my ass" stamped across the buttocks.