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If you keep a dog you will be familiar with the friendly brotherhood between dog-walkers. A dog-walker will almost always smile and say hello to another, whereas people just walking without a pooch in tow will usually be ignored, and maybe not even noticed. Seeing someone else walking a dog gives them a mark of respectability, and if you see them walk the same route daily or weekly, you're much more likely to stop for a chat one morning.

Being kitted up on a bike is much the same. Most road users you're only concerned with as far as normal, considerate road use is concerned: you make sure your and their intentions are always clear, but you never interact with them as people. Even commuters on bikes are just other road users. But when you see another cyclist kitted up for a proper ride, it's a different matter. Maybe it's lycra shorts that mark him (or her, of course) out as a “serious cyclist”, maybe a cycling club jersey, maybe he has shaved legs, or maybe it's just the aero bars on his bike (and no, I don't mean the bubbly chocolate kind).

But whatever the sign is, it unlocks a completely different behaviour. You can't just pass him any more, you make a discreet wave, or shout a pleasantry across the road in his direction. And this overture of friendliness really improves your ride. A boring commute, in your everyday clothes, is just like walking around town: everyone concentrates on getting to where they're going, not giving each other the time of day. But join this brotherhood of lycra-clad leisure cyclists, and you can't go a mile down the road without a cheery smile. Even better is if you pass a whole club or team out together, as every member will give you a nod and a wink, pleased to have recognised a fellow rider.

Perhaps it's a sad statement of the state of communities, that we are friendly to people who look and act like ourselves while ignoring other people, but it's better than ignoring everybody. Much as I try to be friendly, you can't say hello to everyone you pass on the road. Moreover, there's a slightly less friendly motive in play.

Returning to the dog-walkers, there's another process going on while they wave. People can be very judgemental, even when they don't mean to be. All the time while you look at another dog-walker, you're judging their technique, how well-behaved their dog is, how frequently they walk it. You're trying to decide whether this person is a “proper dog-walker,” or someone who only goes out one day a year when it's sunny.

In the same way, when you see another cyclist, you're checking them out: do they have a better bike than you (in my case, invariably they do), are they fitter, are they going faster, are they better dressed? Wait; look at that last one again. “Better dressed” isn't a term you would immediately think of to describe a cyclist, but we're like skiers in that regard. More outlandish is better. Brighter is better. Having expensive kit (and it's usually easy to tell how expensive it is) gets you street cred, which in turn gives you more confidence. It's all a question of how silly you can look and get away with it.

There was a rash (if you'll excuse the pun) of posts on cycling blogs recently about shaving your legs. IMO the best of these was Dave Moulton's, in which he suggests that cyclists should answer the question, “Why do you shave your legs?” with, “Because it's traditional.” But the real reason is subtly different from that, and he gives it elsewhere on the page: “No one wants to go out on a group ride and be the only woolly mammoth in the pack.” Smooth legs are just like any other piece of kit: they distinguish the Sunday rider from the serious racer.

My legs, along with my habitual riding time, put me on the Sunday rider side of that division: I am, after all, primarily a commuter and only secondarily a recreational cyclist. But where me-as-a-commuter might check out what the serious cyclists are riding and what they're wearing, only me-as-a-recreational-cyclist will get the reciprocal attention, and the mutual friendliness of people who pass in the street and immediately know they have a hobby in common.

So, even when I'm only doing a brisk twenty-minute ride around the ring road after work, I'll wear my proper cycling kit. It might make me look like a poser to get dressed up when the conditions don't warrant it, but on shorter rides I ride harder, so it's still worthwhile to have clothes that wick away my sweat rather than making me warmer. But the smooth comfort of 60% nylon, 30% polypropylene, 10% lycra isn't the main reason: it's to show anyone else on the road, and to remind me, that this time I'm on my bike to have fun, get some fresh air, and work off some energy, not just to get from A to B.