One of the great losses that few people talk about as more land is gobbled up for development is the loss of motocross trails to be enjoyed by avid riders. When I was a young lad, everyone in my city knew where to go to ride their dirt bikes. There was a well-established wild area untouched by business where motorcycles squealed all day and into the evening on most weekends.

Those trails were a blast—with dips and hills and lots of red dirt to plaster your clothes and make you feel like you accomplished something on your ride. You could race informally with friends, work on your technique alone or simply glide along and enjoy the many acres of scrubland that was perfect for dirt bikes. I also remember several people sharing bikes, taking turns peeling out, spitting clay behind their wheels as they roared off to the next hill. What a fantastic way to spend a day!

You probably have similar memories of riding your dirt bike all day on unspoiled trails, away from all of the confines of modern life—school, work, dress clothes, good manners. You can leave all that behind in a flash as you twist the accelerator on a dirt bike and get as messy as you want.

Today, that patch of land has houses built on it, for God’s sake! Long gone are the orange and red dirt paths that were worn into grooves by me and my friends. The few bushes and trees that broke up the dirt and added a little green have all been plowed over, the joy of riding all day a distant memory. I’m sure the homeowners have no idea what took place on the sacred ground where there house sits. But I do.

These days, with fewer and fewer reserved areas for dirt bikes, many of us turn to the pros to live vicariously through as their machines squeal and jump, slide and pounce as we did many years ago. They’ve even moved indoors for many of their competitions, but just listening to them race around a dirt track produces emotions that I forgot I had.

That same lust for freedom of expression on a motorized bike is expressed not only in modern professional competitions, but in the clothing line that the pros have inspired and advised upon. One of the top brands for such rugged wear is Alpinestars, which features scores of graphic tees, rad hoodies and board shorts for young men who want to look like the stars of motorsports, or simply channel their energy.

Alpinestars has a wide variety of shirts, jackets, shorts and caps for the young men who can name their favorite riders, or the older men who used to ride themselves. You can even spot the top riders wearing Alpinestars in between circuits on their bikes. If it’s trendy and tough enough for them, it will be sure to keep you on the cutting edge with durable fashion for years to come.

Retro cool is kind of a funny thing. Youngsters re-discover brands that earlier generations knew to be hallmarks of quality, and the cycle of popularity starts all over again. No one tells the younger set that their fathers wore the same shoes they do (or they would cease to be cool!) and old-timers enjoy seeing the brands that they favored as kids return to the streets. They could say, “I told you so,” but most refrain. They simply smile when a group of noisy teens walks by in a hat from yesteryear, a pair of shoes from a century-old designer, a style that lay dormant for decades but exploded anew like a volcano that just got its memory back.

One of the major differences between then and now, however, is that when these old-school hits become new-school fads, they move from the playing fields to the sidewalks. What your parents thought was cutting edge athletic footwear, for instance, is now only worn for casual occasions. That is because technology has changed athletic shoes forever. You can now pump your shoes snug, literally walk on air or bounce off coils with each step, all unheard-of features just a couple of decades ago.

As a result, the sneakers that your father wore and thought gave him a couple of extra centimeters with each jump now feel like trendy shoes that just happen to made of canvas with thick rubber soles. No one would ever wear such sneakers in an actual basketball game, for example, for fear of serious injury, but did your dad and his mates ever get injured when they played? No, but it sure seems like they should have wearing those throwback sneaks with little support and even less shock absorption.

One brand of retro athletic footwear has long been synonymous with speed, so much so that broadcasters still say that an athlete has “put on his PF Flyers” when he runs down a ball in the outfield or swiftly moves to make a tackle. That’s because PF Flyers were synonymous with speed during the 1950s and ‘60s, known throughout the States thanks to endorsements by the top basketball stars of the day and superheroes in cartoons on TV screens every Saturday morning, who boasted that at least part of the credit for their feats was due to what they wore on their feets—PF Flyers.

Well, PF Flyers did not stop making shoes, but you probably won’t want to wear them during any scrums. They look fine on the sidewalk as you traipse across campus or downtown. The canvas still breathes and the thick rubber soles still provide a decent amount of cushion, plenty for walking. They look better than ever, available in multiple colors and styles, some with a simple two-stripe look, others undecorated but not unnoticed.

The misnamed “trainers” will do far better in class than on the court. You won’t want to get them dirty anyway. Any brand that goes back to 1937 certainly earns the title of “retro cool”, and PF Flyers are still being made because they continue to look and feel great. Maybe you’ll do a few superhuman feats in them as well. The world needs all the help it can get. Put on your PF Flyers and see what happens.

It’s funny to think about how much we admire cowboys and their lifestyles and yet how few of us have ever actually even ridden a horse. And, I mean, really ridden a horse, not sat on one when you were a kid and had a clown lead you around a small ring at the fair.

The first time I rode a horse for realsies was on my honeymoon, the first of many new experiences that I had that week. The brochure for the island resort had a photo of a couple riding full sprint on the beach with water splashing all about and smiles everywhere, even on the horses. I wanted to give it a whirl.

The first couple of kilometers were old hat. We trod all around the island and saw all sorts of beautiful sights—herons standing majestically near the shore, alligators flopping into canals, the multiple species of tropical flowers showing off their stuff. Then came the command from our guide to “gallop.” That sounded easy enough. I was certainly ready to become a real cowboy even though I was more the size of a jockey.

When my horse heard the word, he bolted in one sudden motion and I almost flipped off his back, an inauspicious start to my career as a cowboy. After about 10 metres, I realized that I had never been taught any particulars about real horseback riding. What I mean is no one had ever warned me about the sensation of a horse’s back bouncing up and down directly into my most private areas. Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! This was far short of unbridled joy. It was more like savage torture being performed by a beast who outweighed me by at least five times. Oof! Oof! Oof! Oof! I puffed as my testicles were pounded flat. So this is what it felt like to ride a horse. Did cowboys have iron-hard testicles to match their spurs? No wonder we always considered them so tough. I thought it was just the cattle drives through all types of weather. No, just riding a horse at full gallop is enough to earn any man’s admiration, and to do it on a daily basis is beyond tough.

After a few minutes of gallop, I’d had enough for the day. I’m not sure there has ever been a moment of sheer happiness like the one when our guide shouted, “Whoa!” and my 1500-kilo friend slowed to a walk. Omigod! I had forgotten what it felt like to not have nausea bubbling up from a fire pit. I had forgotten normalcy in just three minutes time.

Yeah, there’s a lot to being a cowboy. I still haven’t figured out how they do it. Either they have specially padded saddles or they stand in the stirrups during the whole ride. Or maybe they are shaped a bit differently than I.

If you can’t be a cowboy, you can at least dress like they did and enjoy the same toughness in your jeans as they have in their, uh, lower portions. Lee jeans have been synonymous with toughness and quality since 1889. Just think, when Mr. Eiffel was unveiling his tower, a group of roughnecks in Kansas, U.S.A., opened shop selling Lee jeans. Both creations remain iconic.

Lee doesn’t just make jeans anymore. The brand has spread well, into shorts and shirts that look great and maintain a portion of their Western heritage. Toughness never goes out of style; that’s why Lee is still with us.

Have you ever left your wallet anywhere? Most of us have. The first thought is, “I hope that no unscrupulous busboy has rifled through it.” Then, we remember that we were only carrying a small amount of in this age of the debit card. That leads to a new worry: “I hope that the waitress is not a single mom who felt compelled to correct life’s unfairness by lifting a couple of my credit cards.” All of these thoughts are racing through our minds as we punch the restaurant’s phone number into our mobile and wait breathlessly for good news.

“Yeeeesss.” “Is this Chez Dominique’s?” “Yeess it is.” “Did you find a wallet in the booth by the corner window?” Then we hold our breath. If the maitre d’ says “Yes, it’s safe and sound,” we set up a time to swing by and recover the billfold that contains half of our lives. If he says, “No”, then we know that we have a bunch of credit card companies to call and we pray that their customer service lines are open 24/7.

Even when the guy at the restaurant says that someone has found our wallet, we don’t relax. What if that snotty-nosed busboy fingers a few bills before turning it in? What if that waitress that you should have tipped a bit more decides to get her revenge?

Then, when we pull up to the restaurant, walk inside and receive our wallet from a smiling hostess, we start to feel better. We open it up, try to remember how many credit cards we had, do the math and take comfort in the fact that there are still honest people in the world.

But do you have yet another nagging fear when you leave your wallet somewhere? I do. It’s called “What Will They Think of My Sweat-Soaked Crappy Wallet?” syndrome. Maybe you can relate.

When I inadvertently leave my wallet somewhere, I usually don’t worry too much about the cash and the cards. I have never had a problem with getting my wallet back intact. What I do worry about is what the wait staff thought of my wallet. Did they hold it like a rotted piece of garbage, using their middle finger and thumb as pincers as they tried not to become contaminated by it? Did they look at it and dare each other to pick it up? Did they conclude that I was an unemployed slob judging from my ancient wallet’s slovenly appearance?

You can tell a lot about a man by his wallet. Does he care enough about his accessories to always have a wallet that is in good shape? Does he buy the best, a wallet cut out of real leather or a durable animal skin? Is he the kind of guy who keeps a picture of his wife or receipts from the racetrack? Does he have business cards from local IT firms or calling cards for escort services?

You can tell a lot about a man from his wallet. That’s why Mustard makes a wide range of beautiful and durable wallets to keep the receptacle of your life looking fresh, clean and stylish. Their designs include everything from the British flag to a gaming console, all artfully splashed on their high-grade leather.

Mustard doesn’t stop at wallets, however. They also make chic belts for just about any outfit in a variety of colors, all of them guaranteed to last for years.

Don’t fret the next time you leave your wallet somewhere. It could be an unpaid advertisement for Mustard when the waiter finds it and says, “Wow! Nice wallet! What brand is this?”

I’m sure that an interesting study in business school is how exactly a brand name becomes synonymous with a given item, such as Kleenex, Band-Aid and Play-Doh. All of these brand names have become the common name for facial tissues, adhesive bandages and modeling clay. Gosh, the brand names sure sound a lot better, don’t they? Let’s not forget perhaps the most prominent example of this phenomenon: “Buy me a Coke” means “Fetch me a soft drink.”

How does this happen? When does this happen? How long into the product’s existence does it take over the entire field? I wonder about such things when I see examples of a single brand so dominating a segment of commerce that it becomes synonymous with a given category of goods. Remember when copying machines were copying machines that made photocopies? Now you “Xerox” any pages that you need. Remember when you clicked on a search engine to find references to something on the Web? Now, you simply “google” it.

A similar welding of brand and item occurs when I think of backpacks. The name Eastpak is so synonymous with quality backpacks that if I took a survey on the nearby university’s campus, I would probably discover that fully 75% of the students have chosen Eastpak to lug their books around in. “Eastpak” has not taken over the term “backpack”, but it might only be a matter of time.

What did the designers at Eastpak do so well in the mid-70s way up north in Rochester, New York? What inspired them to create a backpack that would crush the competition? I wonder. Perhaps they were the first into the market, but I think most of it has to do with the extreme quality of the end product. That’s why travelers from North America to Asia to all points in between can be seen carrying their goods in Eastpak backpacks. I’ve seen them all over the world, and in my travels on four continents I am almost certain that I have seen the familiar Eastpak logo in every country in which I’ve lived (four and counting).

Eastpak brings that same passion for quality and hardiness to its entire line of bags and now jackets. You can grab an Eastpak duffel bag or a sporty messenger bag. You can show off your Eastpak logo on a computer carrying case (called a “reboot bag”) or a stylish gym bag (called a “rollout bag”). You can even wear Eastpak on your chest as you scale a mountain in a heavy Eastpak barrow padded jacket.

Now that it has whipped its competitors in the backpack industry, perhaps Eastpak’s team has been revived to take on the challenge of winning customers to its coats and jackets. It might not be long before we see Eastpak on a majority of jackets all over the world, too.