It started as a coincidence. It became a superstition. Now, it is a symbol.
In the history of the Tour de France, one number carries more weight than any other. It began in 1969, when Eddy Merckx—the Cannibal himself—pinned number 51 to his jersey and decimated the field to take his first yellow jersey. It happened again in 1973 with Luis Ocaña. Again in 1975 with Bernard Thévenet. Again in 1978 with Bernard Hinault. For a decade, Bib 51 was a prophecy and represented the threshold where suffering turns into victory.
NOT JEWELRY. HARDWARE.
At Studio 51, we do not make souvenirs. We forge artifacts for the initiated. We were born from the belief that cycling is not a hobby—it is an identity. When the kit comes off, and the bike is racked, the rider remains. Our pieces are inspired by the mechanical precision of the components we trust with our lives: the click of a cleat, the tension of a chain, the silence of a perfectly tuned machine.
You earn the miles. We provide the mark.
This is Studio 51.
The Myth of Number 51
It started as a coincidence. It became a superstition. Now, it is a symbol.
In the history of the Tour de France, one number carries more weight than any other. It began in 1969, when Eddy Merckx—the Cannibal himself—pinned number 51 to his jersey and decimated the field to take his first yellow jersey. It happened again in 1973 with Luis Ocaña. Again in 1975 with Bernard Thévenet. Again in 1978 with Bernard Hinault. For a decade, Bib 51 was a prophecy and represented the threshold where suffering turns into victory.
NOT JEWELRY. HARDWARE.
At Studio 51, we do not make souvenirs. We forge artifacts for the initiated. We were born from the belief that cycling is not a hobby—it is an identity. When the kit comes off, and the bike is racked, the rider remains. Our pieces are inspired by the mechanical precision of the components we trust with our lives: the click of a cleat, the tension of a chain, the silence of a perfectly tuned machine.
