I read an interesting article the other day.

A three-year British study found that more people would commute by bike if only it didn’t lead to the dreaded helmet hair. They also cited fear of reporting for duty dripping in sweat and the considerably less specific fear of being considered “weird” or a “bit odd” by co-workers.

But helmet hair, it seems, is the biggest deterrent.

“The helmet is a problem for me, because I just think it would make my hair a little squashed,” said one survey respondent, Lara.

Not to bag on the Brits, but … bloody hell!

These folks are missing the point. Helmet hair isn’t a problem. It’s an opportunity.

First, a disclaimer. I’m not big on what most people call “hair styles.” I haven’t used a blow dryer on my hair since, well, I first sprouted. I don’t use “product,” whatever that is, though I tend to overuse “quotes.” I don’t consider myself an unhygienic slob (and who does, really?). I prefer casually unkempt.

My usual daily grooming routine involves showering just before slapping on my helmet and heading out the door. The still-wet hair gets sucked out the vents in my brainbucket and — voila — stunning helmet hair. I consider it a badge of honor.

In fact, I’m on the lookout for a helmet with a vent down the middle so I can show up at work sporting a wicked fauxhawk. Or interspersed holes so I can pretend to be Pinhead. Gimme a couple of different helmets with different vent patterns, and I can have a ‘do a day.

Heck, I figure folks pay lots of money for perms (they still do perms, don’t they?) to get the kind of wave I get just by riding to work a little wet behind the ears.

Embrace the wave, I say. If that makes me a weird or a bit odd, yeah, I can live with that.