Authenticity

So important.
I mean I sign all my work, you know, just so that I know I made it.
Hard to keep track of everything don't you know.
I've been thinking of authenticity recently, more specifically, country or origin as it applies to bicycles.
In the olden days, bicycles were made where they were made, nowadays they aren't always made where they are made.
If you know what I mean.
Of the four frames I'm thinking of, only one is actually made in where it's supposed to be made.
You can guess which one.
I say four frames, for(!) today there's a new player:



Can you say Celeste Devilette?
Chromed lugged goodness.
In my size!
Only one problem.
Made in Taiwan.
Oh boy.
The Tipo Corsa is an inexpensive copy of the Dolomiti, which was Reparto Corse and made in Italy.
Of course(!) it also cost about twice as much, but to me it's all about the wait for it: authenticity.
Oh I'm sitting here thinking about it, half hoping someone else plunges in and buys that thing, sitting there in all it's glory over on the eVilness.
It's sort of like the Chanel purse you buy at the swap meet.
It does the same thing, it looks the same, but it's just not the same.
Or is it?
Well, okay it's not.
In the case of the Tipo Corsa, it is and it's not.
If you catch my drift.
Of course if I get it, only I will know.
Only I will know that it lacks a certain je ne sais quoi if you will, that it was born not in the land of pasta and meatballs but in the land of won tons and chow mein.
Hmmmm.
Some minute chicken chow mein.
I'm getting hungry.
I'm also feeling a bit snobbish.
I mean is it right that I turn my nose up at the Italian wannabee, even if it does say Bianchi all over it, just because my Bianchi has some Italian pedigree?
They are sisters of a kind the Celeste Devil and this newcomer, if not in blood, then at least in marriage.
Non?
Authenticity I suppose is a state(frame!) of mind.
Despite that Tipo Corsa looking about ten times nicer than the CD, I know, I just know that I'll won't be able to look at it and feel the same way.
Boy, all my Italian alloy goodness would sure look nice swapped over to that frame!
Oh it would be all shiny and blingy, but in this case it would be only skin deep.
I'd fawn and polish, sit next to it on the wall while I have my cream soda.
Deep down inside, I'd know though.
I would only be fooling myself.
Instead of chow mein, I think I'll have pasta.