Giro Cream · la crema
The colour of espresso foam at the start village. Cream sensor-knit with the 1974 chest band in red and slate. Our quietest jersey — until you jump.
Bergamo, Italia — corsa apparel since 1972
Racing kit cut from the golden age of the peloton. Flick the page fast and the type blurs like a passing breakaway — stop, and everything settles crisp at the finish line.
Il manifesto
We started in 1972 in a Bergamo workshop above a bicycle mechanic, sewing wool jerseys for a regional squad that could not afford the big ateliers. The riders asked for two things: pockets that held a spare tubular, and a red band you could pick out of a fifty-man bunch at forty kilometres an hour.
Half a century later the fabrics are modern — sensor-knit, four-way stretch, flatlock everywhere it counts — but the lines have not moved a millimetre. A Veloce jersey is still cut for a rider on the drops, still finished by hand, still made to be seen in motion. Stand still in one and you are wearing history. Sprint in one and you are making it.
La maglia — the 2026 heritage reissue
Each jersey below is drawn, not photographed — flat-lay, the way a soigneur lays kit on a hotel bed the night before a stage. Full-length zip, three rear pockets, silicone gripper hem. Corsa fit: order up a size if you ride for the café stop.
The colour of espresso foam at the start village. Cream sensor-knit with the 1974 chest band in red and slate. Our quietest jersey — until you jump.
For the day the road tilts to twelve percent. Full racing red, cream band, slate collar — the exact kit our squad wore over the Stelvio in ’74.
Criterium nights under sodium lamps. Midnight slate with the band in red and cream, plus a reflective racing line stitched along the left seam.
Your musette is empty. Per ora.
Il palmarès
Two sewing machines above Officina Brivio, Bergamo. First order: eleven wool jerseys for a squad that paid in prosciutto and promises.
The red chest band debuts and a Veloce jersey crosses a summit finish first. The photograph — grainy, warm, out of focus — still hangs by the cutting table.
Milano–Sanremo, 288 kilometres, and our cream kit in the winning break for the last forty. The band, the tifosi said, was visible from the helicopter.
Our first skinsuit — silk and wool, sewn in nine hours per unit, faster than anything and utterly impossible to wash. We made forty. Collectors now fight over them.
An hour-record attempt in Veloce slate falls short by 214 metres. The rider kept the jersey; we kept the lesson — build for the wind, not the mirror.
The 1972 patterns, re-cut in modern fabric. Three colourways, numbered runs, the same racing line. This is the collection on this page.
Le taglie
Corsa fit means cut for the drops: shorter at the front, longer at the back, sleeves that hug at race cadence. Between sizes? Take the larger — nobody sprints in a sausage casing.
| Size | Chest (cm) | Waist (cm) | Back length (cm) | Rider height |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| XS | 84–89 | 71–76 | 66 | 160–168 cm |
| S | 89–94 | 76–81 | 68 | 166–174 cm |
| M | 94–99 | 81–86 | 70 | 172–180 cm |
| L | 99–104 | 86–92 | 72 | 178–186 cm |
| XL | 104–110 | 92–99 | 74 | 184–192 cm |
| XXL | 110–117 | 99–107 | 76 | 190–198 cm |
Measured flat, garment unstretched. Wash cold, hang in the shade of a team car, never tumble-dry — mai.
Numbered runs sell out between espresso and lunch. Leave an address and we will write — once per reissue, never more — when the next colourway rolls off the cutting table.