I’ve been thinking about compression lately. As summer fades into shoulder season, the word connotes loss—shorter days, earlier sunsets, busier schedules, less time to ride. But on the road with your kit, it’s a must. Compression means more than support, more than forestalling fatigue; without it, my legs feel slack. My arms feel noodly. Lightweight is fine, but I still need the kit to fit. And “club” is not a fit. (Not to get all Velominati on you, but I mean, c’mon.) Somehow, Capo’s Corsa SL kit manages to walk that tightrope perfectly.

My first ride wearing it was a scorcher. It clocked in right around 50 miles, but it was a hot, mid-August afternoon in the shadeless hills of the East Bay. Three Bears, Pig Farm, up Reliez Valley. And my abiding thought the entire time was why are these bibs so comfortable? That’s not a usual thought when it comes to cycling apparel. Generally speaking, if you’re thinking about your clothes while you’re riding, something is wrong. The goal, I’d always thought, was to forget you were wearing kit at all. But this was better: I knew it was there, it just felt good. The wide leg bands stayed put like they were painted on, but without a hint of chafing. The shoulder straps were secure despite being gossamer thin.

Up top, the zipper moved when I wanted it to, but didn’t when I didn’t. I’m generally partial to a certain scorpion-accented company, but its zippers have always left something to be desired; not these. Heat management became like a game to distract me on climbs. Getting pitchy, let’s take it down a few inches. Almost there. Over the top, time to cinch it up for the long tuck. Even the sleeves played their part—long without being too long, and compressing without squeezing. (Granted, I’m in possession of two of the skinniest arms since Chris Froome, and as such fall squarely into Capo’s decidedly Euro fit parameters; your mileage may vary.) There was a bit of room in the midriff—less than I’d expect from what the company terms “a more relaxed fit,” but when the next step up is basically skinsuit, one brand’s “relaxed” is another brand’s “race.”

Add in a pair of socks with blue accents to complement the stark black/white motif of the kit, and the triptych became my go-to over the next six weeks: Everything from a 20-mile pre-work spin to a solo 90 on the weekend, in temperatures from the high 50s to the low 90s (the former with an early-morning vest, the latter with a base layer that looks like fishnet stockings). There wasn’t a ride I could imagine that wasn’t right for the Corsa SL. It might be smack in the middle of the company’s product range, but there’s nothing “value” about the fit, form, or function. And now, even as I can tell those warm sunny days are numbered and the rest of my life compresses, I’m pulling out the armwarmers to get just one more ride with it before I move on to something less summery.