"Make it fat and mean" is what the marketing people at Marzocchi must have thought when they gave their freeride fork the warlike name "Bomber" ten years ago. And because a weapon doesn't look sexy to everyone, they put two trade fair hostesses at the fork's side. The sight of them immediately made it clear that the eponymous bomber could not be a sultana bomber - perhaps a melon bomber? No matter. Because the sheer presence of the bomber girls immediately silenced any subtle considerations about product names. The Bomber Girls' signing sessions at the world's bicycle and motorbike trade fairs are a hit with the public.
Wolfgang Beuer, Marzocchi's marketing man in Germany, is as pleased as he is baffled by the phenomenon: "It works worldwide. They are perhaps most popular in Las Vegas. It's mainly Asians who queue up to get a poster signed. But I'm not quite sure why they do it - the ladies aren't stars or anything like that." Each year, a new cast was chosen by Marzocchi USA boss Bryson Martin himself. "There are a lot of people running around Hollywood who are happy about any job," says Beuer and you can't help but think, because it's not just "Schindler's List" or "Finding Nemo" that are produced in this area. The buxom duo signed posters, allowed cagey glances into Silicon Valley and didn't even claim to know anything about biking. Why would they? When Marzocchi chose two real biker girls as bomber girls three years ago, the public's reaction was rather muted. The marketing department immediately returned to the cartoon look of the classic sex bomb - with a large bust but a smaller budget: since 2005, Argentinian Mariela dal Lago has been nestling around the suspension legs. All alone.
For Marzocchi, the simple combination of suspension fork and bust size works. The bomber girls make the product and brand sexy. But why hundreds of men are clamouring for the autographs of rather unknown starlets can only be understood by digging deep into the kitchen sink of psychology. Our daring theory: the autograph of a bomber girl on a poster confirms that she has passed a test of courage. Which pimply freerider, which serious marathon biker would approach such a sex bomb in the wild? And how, anyway? The role of a bomber girl makes it possible. Instead of "hey, haven't we seen each other on DVD before?", all you have to do is ask for an autograph. Making contact with a predictably positive response. A bomber girl would never respond to an autograph request with a slap in the face or whisper "Hotel Post, Room 314" to the bearer of a poster cardboard tube in a conspiratorial and threatening manner. An autograph from Bomber Girl is control over animalistic ferocity. A bit like cuddling a bull terrier with a robust muzzle.
The history of bike technology proves just how well Marzocchi is doing with this strategy: at the time when the Bomber Girls first competed to sexualise a fork, competitor Rockshox also had a "girl" at the start. The suspension fork was called "Judy". And it's easy to imagine a Judy as a little brat with pigtails. As a creature that has no sex appeal whatsoever for normal men. Judy has been out of the picture for years. But Marzocchi-Mariela is still signing posters - from Las Vegas to Taipei to Friedrichshafen. Lesson learnt: good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere.
(Text: Jörg Spaniol)
