Gill has been doing Yoga for years as a way to help her arthritic body. She’s tried various forms of it — from Hot Yoga to Ashtanga to ‘I don’t care what the hell it is, I just have to stretch so I don’t fuse up’. She still goes occasionally when in London. But I am anticipating that she will find a class when she’s here for a few weeks. To date, it has helped her combat the worst effects of arthritis. This yoga regimen, combined with the fact that she is double-jointed, causes the elderly patients in her arthritis clinic to view her with great suspicion. She normally doesn’t walk with a limp and looks, dare I say, normal. It’s a bit like putting a healthy person in a leper’s colony: bound to attract attention and anger for pretending to be afflicted. But she is and so, has as much right as the next leper to be there. Or some such…
At any rate, she and L’il Sis both suffer from the same form of arthritis. When Gill is home, they often go to yoga together. I probably do not need to point out (since you have read our arguments about fashion and proper attire) that both girls wear whatever is handy and comfy to their class. It could be holey track pants with equally holey socks (brother Crazy D’s.)…or it could be leggings with old tee shirts from the 90s. Ah, the 90s…Suffice it to say, Lululemon has never profited from my daughters. Nor should it expect to in the future. However, since the studio they feature is in what one might call ‘Yuppie Central’, the rest of the class believes in supporting Canadian industry and their stock portfolio. They are dressed, head to foot, in Lululemon creations. But only THIS SEASON’S designs. (I don’t understand, for the life of me, how exercise outfits can have ‘trends’, but there you have it. These students are dressed to kill…and not from strenuous Yoga.)
When Gill and L’il Sis went together last summer, they came home irritated. “Did you believe those women?” Gill began. “They were there for a fashion show. They couldn’t care less about doing Yoga. Things took a turn when all the celebs started doing Yoga to get rid of their baby fat! I swear, when some of the women in our class did stretches, it was like they were posing for a photo op in Vogue. And what’s the point of all those fancy clothes? You’re there to sweat! Both Ms Lulu AND Ms Lemon stink after an hour of perspiring, so why spend all that money on clothes?”
L’il Sis had her own grudges: “Did you see those new people in the back? You can always tell the athletic, competitive types. All they do is groan and make grunting noises so everyone knows how hard they’re working! Really? Do they think they can WIN the Yoga game? And they’re completely out of sync with the class vibe. No sense of studio decorum at all. They should look around and blend in with what the class is doing. Showoffs!”
“Ha! I think we should tell them about the classes for the meditation style of Yoga. Tell them how relaxing it is, how deeply satisfying…and add how many pounds you can lose in a week. We could go and watch…they’d last three minutes before losing the plot. First they’d fidget, then get annoyed, then trip all over their Gucci bags, Prada hairbands, and Lululemon outfits trying to outrun each other to the exit. Now THAT would be fun!”
So I’m getting Gill’s Yoga clothes out, ready for her first class this summer. I know exactly where the clothes are — I just follow the smell to the back of her closet. And there they will be, balled up in the corner, abandoned and left to fester in her flurry to get to the airport.