If you’re feeling really good about yourself and you need to be knocked down a few pegs, then definitely go to a class in Scottsdale. I love working out there. When I enter the room, I’m greeted like a celebrity. Granted that celebrity is Charles Manson, but there’s nothing that gears me up for fitness like people staring at me with disgust. I mean, I understand. I do not fit in here. I did not drink juice today a single time, and my hobbies expand beyond the limitations of the new insane ways I’ve thought of to lose weight and avoiding gluten. Also, I never have the correct fitness uniform for Scottsdale. I always forget to stop at Dry Bar and get my pre-workout-blowout. And if that weren’t offensive enough, I usually wash my face before getting sweaty. It’s weird because everyone knows you definitely want to wear as much make up as possible to a work out because you have to be fit and pretty. As if my face and pony tail weren’t enough to shun me from all the supermodel yoga masters in my class, I wear yoga pants from…the gap. I admit it. I have no workout gear from lululemon, save one headband I received as a gift. Because that’s the obvious gift for your trying-to-get-fit-undeterminably-sized friend. A fucking headband from lululemon. And I don’t even wear that headband in Scottsdale because it will serve as further separation between me and my classmates, since it would seem all I can afford (or fit into) is a headband.
A girlfriend of mine convinced me to go into lulu with her. She insisted I had to try on the most comfortable yoga pants in the history of yogis. I am sure that Bikram Choudhary is only comfortable (literally) sweating his balls off in Lulu’s Sundown Pants for men. They are $88 and they were undeniably a vital piece in the conceptualization and success of Bikram today. I believe this.
Walking into Lululemon may actually be a worse form of Hell than walking into a yoga studio in old town Scottsdale. The employees here not only sized me up (as someone too large for their brand), but also assessed my spending ability (obviously low-no Louis Vuitton) in a single scathing once over. If I were sensitive, that would be enough to make me run from lululemon and their overpriced pants and headbands (I checked the tag while I was there, $18 for a headband?!?!). However, I am adventurous. I am fit. I am a glutton for punishment. I stayed.
Rachel or Kelly (or whatever her unoriginal shop girl name was) asked a stack of clothing if it needed any assistance. I wouldn’t assume she was talking to me, as after the initial once over she never made eye contact. The yoga pants presumably did not need her assistance, nor did I which I made clear by saying nothing. Instead I walked to the wall of fitness bottoms and perused all the different pants and crops that could hold my future success to Scottsdale acceptance and yoga mastery. I could really feel the excitement building as I bent down to grab my size.
I went into a dressing room where Rachel/Kelly wrote my name (incorrectly) on my door. She assured me she could help if I needed ANYTHING. I took off my pants and took a deep breath in. This fitting room experience was about to change my life and the future of all workouts. With these new pants, I could be stronger, faster, better, and some other words from a song by Kanye West.
Imagine my disappointment as I pull the pants on, and they are literally so long I could skip out on wearing socks with them. That’s okay though, at Lulu hemming your $82 pants IS FREE! AWESOME. So as to not be discouraged I looked at myself in the mirror.
All of you will be shocked to know that when I looked in the mirror I saw…myself. In yoga pants. Looking exactly like every other time I go to the gym. It was so weird because I definitely anticipated a transformation into Jillian Michaels for $82. But when I exited the fitting room, Rachel/Kelly SMILED at me. Something had changed. I had the lulu symbol on me and now I was Scottsdale appropriate. With more enthusiasm than any one person should have for yoga pants, Rachel/Kelly asked didn’t I just LOVE the WUNDER UNDERS. I still said nothing. I began to do walking lunges around the dressing room area. Rachel/Kelly was unimpressed. But tbh, so was I.
While I admit that the pants were comfortable, I couldn’t tell a difference. Based on the quick lunge workout I had completed, I felt exactly the same as I did in gap, zella, and even (gasp) target yoga pants. The only difference between those brands and lulu, is no one in Gap, Nordstrom, or Target makes me feel like a poor, ridiculous asshole.
Needless to say I am still not part of the lulu yoga pants club. I am hoping to start a lulu headband club though. All you have to do to be in it, is get your $18 headband and wash your face before class. Who’s with me?