The Mola: a Story

Sometimes, the path to a result isn’t just a process of a few weeks. In our creative minds, arriving at a final idea is a continuous journey of accumulating information. That information is stored, refined internally, revisited, researched, paused, processed in silence, observed, drawn… but never forgotten.

The story of this design didn’t begin with a single idea. Maybe it started in my childhood, having grown up in Colombia, I’ve always drawn to a colorful view of the world. Throughout my life, I’ve been curious about how humans can express stories through objects.

In the past, I experimented with bicycle paintings inspired by textures and patterns from pre-Hispanic cultures, attracted by their value as pure design and the beauty of their creation: free-flowing geometries made of lines, rectangles, triangles, spirals… with rhythm, spatial awareness, and visual elements that oscillate between the voluptuous and the subtle.

Maybe it all simmers from my innate interest in observing, in understanding where we come from, what our context is. But I’m also driven by the pictorial, the organic, by color and form. I’m curious by how other people and cultures see the world through shapes, and express themselves through them.

Over time, that creative process begins to distill: strokes evolve, new techniques are tested, elements are simplified, color is better understood, and the pursuit itself becomes clearer—a pursuit that never truly ends.

I remember, as a child, seeing a colorful bracelet on my mother’s arm. It had intriguing shapes I couldn’t make sense of—it always seemed to look different. In my memory, it was red, sometimes orange, sometimes blue. She told me that before I was born, she lived in Apartadó and worked at the hospital in Mutatá, a coastal region where Indigenous communities still live. During medical brigades, they visited Indigenous reserves and sometimes, Indigenous came to the hospital—seeking help or bringing gifts as thanks, like crafts or food.

On one of those visits, she met a Guna Dule community in the Caimán reserve in Necoclí. That’s where the story of the bracelet began—though in truth, it was originally crafted for her ankle, woven bead by bead, turn by turn. Perhaps that’s where this fascination with color stories began, without me even knowing.

The curiosity was already there in my mind, but in a casual conversation with my friend Olga Acosta (@puenteconsultorias), who has traveled deeply through Colombia, I learned more about the special meaning of the Molas. In that rediscovery, I finally found what I had been seeking—a story that once intrigued me but now made sense. A meaning that resonated not just in the design, but also with my own history.

Perhaps in that essence of “embracing,” of wrapping, I reconnected with the Molas. I thought about how, when sewn onto a surface, these pieces don’t just decorate—they embrace, they clothe, they protect. That image gave me the freedom to explore. I began imagining how to translate that gesture onto a bicycle: how a texture could “embrace” what holds it. So I allowed myself to deconstruct and reconstruct a central figure, without losing its geometric value, playing with the rhythm of color and balance of space.

I began discovering where the strength of the figure lived: in the energy of the color, in the organic nature of its form. I used bold, thick strokes to create a dynamic visual rhythm, while rounded edges softened the tone and made it more approachable. I aimed to break the traditional limits of the frame, letting the design flow beyond the joints and tubes—wrapping the bicycle with a clear intent: to be colorful, sober, and bold. A piece that may cover all or half of the bike, but always carries with it a story that embraces.

To talk about the Molas is also to share the inspiring richness of Colombia’s diversity. In the natural region where Panama and Colombia meet—there in the Gulf of Urabá, gateway to the mythical Darién rainforest—between the islands and the mainland, the Guna Dule people have lived for centuries.

Photo: https://artesaniasdecolombia.com.co/PortalAC/Noticia/colombia-artesanal-molas-formas-de-tradicion-y-proteccion_9105

Human and spiritual nature, animals, and plants are all essential parts of their culture. The Guna Dule women are the creators of the Molas. Through geometric figures and vibrant color panels, they compose organic forms and carefully sew them onto their blouses. These creations contain elements that symbolize the environment and their way of life within it. They are symbols of protection, chromatic patterns, representations of journeys, knowledge, and experiences.

Link to complete gallery: Darién x Mola.

We are inspired by this creation: its powerful use of color, its aesthetic order, its diversity and its visual language. Every bicycle tells the story of the person who creates it, and with each one, we want to carry a story of Colombia into the world. The Molas are a tradition, a form of knowledge passed down through generations—just like Scarab, a manifestation that arises from Colombian cycling.

Alejandro Bustamante, Creative Director - Scarab Cycles