Last week, a report was tabled in the Queensland Parliament recommending a minimum safe passing distance between cars and bicycles of one metre on streets with a speed limit under 60 kph, and 1.5 metre on streets above 60 kph. There were also recommendations relaxing helmet laws for cyclists on cycle paths, and allowing cyclists to treat stop signs as give way signs where safe to do so. Perhaps we are now moving from good intentions to good legislation.

Not surprisingly, the announcement of these recommendations set off a storm of abuse from motorists in the newspaper columns. Frequently, the cycle-haters used Lycra as their insult-du-jour. "Lycra loonies", "Lycra louts", "Lycra larrikins" – alliteration ad nauseum.

I had the pleasure of cycling in Brisbane last month. The day after my arrival, I arranged to meet a friend I hadn’t seen in years for coffee. It was a sunny day so I went on a 30km ride beforehand, exploring the renowned river-loop cycle route. I was dressed in Lycra when I arrived at the cafe.

Instead of the usual "how have you been?" generalities that normally occur, my friend, noticing the Lycra, told me a long involved story of a recent run-in she’d had with a cyclist. The gist of her tale was the MaMiL (middle-aged man in Lycra) had ignored a perfectly suitable cycle path that ran parallel with the road and instead decided to ride down the middle of one of the two lanes available to traffic. My friend was stuck behind him for a minute or two and when she passed in the right lane, she yelled at him and pointed to the bike lane where she felt he should be riding.

I sucked in a deep breath before calmly pointing out that the cyclist was entirely within his rights to ride in the centre of a lane, so she was abusing him for doing something legal. Imagine if we all went around castigating people for acting within their rights? Secretly, I wondered why I should have to defend the actions, legal or illegal, of a fellow cyclist – I’d hate to have to also defend the actions of all car drivers.

I agreed with my friend that I would have used the bike lane instead of the road. But, later on, I thought perhaps he was new in town and didn’t know there was a bike lane – the lane in question is separated by shrubs and is on a lower level to the road. I also thought perhaps he was going to turn right up ahead and chose the road instead of the path? Or maybe he was travelling at a relatively fast 35 kph, too dangerous for a path shared with pedestrians, so instead he chose the safer route for all concerned? Sure, he wasn’t as fast as my friend in her car, but the speed limit was only 60 kph. And finally, I pointed out that perhaps she was only held up for a minute or two, so it wasn’t so bad.

We agreed to disagree.

I knew that it was the Lycra that had set her off, both in the original incident and in the re-telling of that incident. She regarded me as "one of the enemy", one of those Lycra-warriors the tabloid newspapers and current affairs shows like to rant about. The bastards who run red lights, ride on the footpath, ignore every road rule imaginable. They must all do it because they dress the same! It doesn't matter that the overwhelming majority of cyclists obey the traffic rules and are responsible road users. If one is dangerous, then we’re all to blame.

Later on in the afternoon, after we’d talked about children, travelling, houses and how on earth anyone could vote for Clive Palmer, I brought up the subject of Lycra once again.

I explained that I chose Lycra because it’s the most comfortable clothing to wear on a bike. I recounted how when my wife started cycling she was determined to never wear Lycra. A few long hot rides later, she’d changed her mind completely. I went into great detail, which I won’t do here, on the issue of chafing and the daily application of a special cream to help matters.

I don’t wear it to be part of a gang. I choose Lycra for the same reason I wear open-necked shirts and casual shoes: for comfort. I don’t want to look good – and believe me in Lycra I don’t look good at all – but I do want to feel good. My friend agreed. We parted on pleasant terms. I’m not sure if she’ll view all Lycra-wearing cyclists more positively now. I hope so. But it got me thinking about this silly Lycra-hating stuff.

Do motorists think I’m trying to emulate the Tour de France heroes by wearing similar clothing? What about the thousands of people who wear their favourite football jerseys as day wear? Are they saying they’re as good as Lionel Messi or Ronaldo? I don’t think so.

Is it because we middle-aged men look faintly ridiculous in such clothing and therefore people should aim their one-tonne vehicles at us as judgement on our dubious fashion sense?

Or is it envy, because we cyclists frequently avoid traffic jams? The simple answer to that is "come and join us" - the more cyclists on bike paths, the fewer cars on our roads.

And please, let’s not talk about forcing cyclists to register their bikes. Frankly, I’d love that to happen. Firstly, because registration fees are usually calculated in relation to Gross Vehicle Mass - trucks pay more than cars, cars pay more than motorbikes, etc. That means we cyclists will pay a small amount. After paying the registration fee, I’m sure many cyclists will start claiming what is already their right: the whole of the lane. We’ll be out there, number plates proudly displayed on our seatpost, luxuriating in the smooth centre section of the lane, rather than the potholed bit to which we’re usually sentenced.

The righteous motorist also suggests that registration will force cyclists to obey the road rules because we can be identified. How many times have you seen a car go through a stop sign and recorded their number plate and reported them to the police? Seriously, you’d be laughed out of the building.

A cyclist is a person on a climate-friendly human-powered vehicle who doesn’t take up much space. Every cyclist on the road or path is one less car stuck in traffic. We deserve respect, no matter what we wear. We should be judged by our intentions and our actions, not by our clothing. Ideally, this proposed legislation will focus attention on how each of us treat fellow road users. It’s time for legislation, and an end to this juvenile name-calling.