Urban Ledger: The Irony of Yoga Fashion and Its Gusseted Crotch of Higher Consciousness
Photo by lululemon athletica at Flickr
In this time of great transition, as the Earth writhes, nations sweat, regional print magazines celebrate 10 years of not being completely devoured by the Interweb, and the world prepares for the great 2012 metaconscious roller-disco-waterslide-slam-dance, one urgent question emerges like a deranged, ecstatic gopher to dominate all others. Whatever will you wear?
Really, when the great shift comes and the warm goo of bliss rains down, will it be, say, denim jeggings and a Dolce crop jacket with some well-worn Fiorentini + Bakers or neon orange Burning Man-style faux fur and a madcap cowboy hat studded with buttons, feathers, and 100 LED blinky lights? How about a pinstripe Ted Baker blazer to match the rainbow ribbons in your 3-foot dreads that tumble over your giant skulls-and-roses chest tattoo, paired with flat-front slacks from the new Banana Republic “Mad Men” collection and some bright purple Havaianas?
I know, right? So many choices. One thing’s for certain: If you fancy yourself a feisty spiritual type, still have a job, and are of the athletic female variety, odds are increasingly good that you will don what is fast becoming the go-to uniform for nearly every able-bodied, enlightenment-ready megababe from here to Botox Marintown. That is, a pair of garishly striped Lululemon Athletica yoga tights and matching tank that cost more than your car insurance. Also, a jacket. And a sweater. Maybe a scarf. You know, layers.
I know this because the Lululemon-inspired yoga-fashion invasion has hit every American city from here to the Delaware outback. It’s difficult to miss, really. Just look for the little horseshoe sacrum logo, the helpful gusseting across the crotch, the slightly dazed, beatific grin of assorted yogic fatales who still have sufficient Visa credit to afford multiple colorways of the cult of Lulu.
And oh, what a fine cult it is—a cutely named, white-hot Canadian company that just keeps popping up all over American cities like a little terrier that won’t stop its adorable yapping. Lululemon is reinventing yoga wear for a generation that never knew what it was supposed to be in the first place.
Its kicky red shopping bags are crammed with lively, go-get-em-girl bumper stickerisms. Do one thing a day that scares you. Life is full of setbacks. Drink fresh water and as much water as you can. Friends are more important than money. Children are the orgasm of life (wait, what?). They’re all directly inspired by the brain-scrambling insanity known as Landmark Forum and even The Secret. Shudder.
But never mind all that because Lululemon is most famous for one thing and one thing only. It’s called Luon®, and it’s some sort of miraculous, proprietary überfabric sewn together by invisible elves in Thailand, China, and Indonesia—places where practicing one’s spirituality most definitely does not mean spending a month’s salary on half a dozen skin-tight cross-back tops that make your cleavage look fantastic in Warrior II. Just sayin’.
Let’s be fair: Lululemon’s miracle fabric is, to put it gently, “goddamn incredible”(in the words of more than one of my yogini-friends) in how it holds its shape, wicks away delicious girl sweat, and—this is the key to the Lulu kingdom—makes your ass look finer than any pair of True Religion jeans ever could. All of this is evidenced by the countless approving glances you earn as you strut into Blue Bottle Coffee after class, order your $12 latte, and settle into the window seat to peruse your ex’s latest Facebook status updates on your iPad 2.
God bless San Francisco, land of mutant style amalgamations and flagrant trend inbreeding, for being one of the first to gleefully embrace the delightful oxymoron that is yoga fashion. Are any two words more perfectly designed to induce fits of cringing in even mild traditionalists from the Hindu homeland? Is there any phrase that more fully captures the hugely hypocritical spiritual capitalist ethos? After all, yoga in its purest sense is about consciousness, awareness, strength, calm, and release. Yoga is finding center. Yoga is stillness.
In other words, yoga is freedom from the incessant and obnoxious trappings of the ego—which, of course, very much include sporty fashion. And profit margins. And stock prices. And opening kicky little stores so fast you make Starbucks look like Walmart.
But, you know, whatever. This is America (and apparently Canada). Misappropriating traditions, commodifying bliss, taking whatever is best and most inspiring about a cherished, ancient form of human wisdom, packaging it, marketing the hell out of it, and selling it back to you for enormous profit—this is what we do. If Lulu’s sales are any indication, no one’s complaining.
Let me add in the spirit of full disclosure as both a longtime yoga teacher and a straight male—and therefore a deep appreciator of Lulu’s primary claim to fame—that I wrestle with the same conundrum. While trying hard to maintain integrity, living the deeper truths of yoga, and celebrating my community, I still need to pay my rent and buy food. And boots. And wine. And sex toys. Life is hard.
Is there a way to do it right, to retain a healthy amount of holistic integrity, embody even one of the company’s cheeseball slogans, and still suck the Wall Street fire hose like a porn star on meth? Peace, healthy living, and a shiny new Mercedes for every stockholder? Why not? Downward Dog, my gorgeous shareholder bitches! This is how we roll.
This is, after all, San Francisco, the home of dot-coms, boho hippies, and multimillion-dollar art raves. We are all about a ridiculously intermingled ethos and pouring a glass of the best and finest dichotomies of life. This is who we are: hugely ironic, hypocritical, radiant, devoted, serious, whip-smart, massively deluded, deeply authentic in our wild misunderstandings of tradition, shameless in our love of sex, product, and brand, om-ing ourselves into bliss, love, and increased credit card debt forevermore. And if your ass happens to look sort of spectacular doing it? Bonus, really.
Mark Morford is a columnist at the SF Chronicle and SFGate, author of The Daring Spectacle: Adventures in Deviant Journalism (Rapture Machine Inc.), and a yoga teacher at Yoga Tree.
I think that many of the people who are being so unkind aren't exactly understanding what the underlying message here is. The Lulu stuff IS ridiculous. And I say that while sitting here-- post teacher training-- in nearly $1000 worth of the stuff. But you know what? Who cares. I'm a girl and I do yoga and I love the gear. I loved the gear for track in high school too! The point that Mark makes is that it's perfectly okay to be a capitalistic, Luon-wearing yogi so long as you just OWN it. Know that what you're doing isn't exactly what the ancient practitioners had in mind, but they also didn't live in the age of capitalism and athletic-asana. I'm happy for anyone, wearing anything, to do the yoga that speaks to them. Bastardize and accessorize the hell out of it. Why? Because asana-- and what we wear to practice it in-- has so little to do with yoga. It's not your fault, you Lulu-loving ladies, that you love the shit out it. You're practically doing a fitness class in a heated room. That certainly calls for a little Luon. Mark, keep on keeping on. Maybe Baptiste will lend you a Rolls to take to class. :)
By on December 10, 2011
This article is irreverent, witty and hilarious. SF needs more yoga teacher/writers like you. You're awesome, Mark.
By on October 02, 2011
That's nice Mark. It's great to see that good old-fashioned woman hating made your personal list of permissible karmic affronts for 2011. I'm also relieved to learn that you feel entitled to sexually objectify the people who turn to you for teaching and guidance. Classy!
By on September 11, 2011
This article makes me sad that there are yoga teachers that are so ridiculously judgmental.
You, Mark, are teaching at a studio that charges $18 for a single yoga class, and people still pay it. Why? Because it makes them feel good and it's a choice they made. So lululemon charges $90 for yoga pants, and people still pay it. Why? Because it makes them feel good and it's a choice they made.
I appreciate the humor, but the theme of your post makes me never want to take your class again, because I know I'll be judged the whole time by what I wear.
By on September 09, 2011
Hysterical and spot on!
By on September 07, 2011
This article is pretty funny in its tone and some of the points it makes are kinda true...but it comes across to me as (possibly unintentionally) overtly sexist. I get the whole complaining about Western materialism corrupting an ancient practice, but why do women's bodies have to be the sounding board for this frustration? How is laughing at women in your yoga class because they are wearing expensive clothing any better than a woman in expensive clothing laughing at your gym shorts and t-shirt? It disturbs me that even in the yoga community, which I had always thought of as a an open, inviting place for women, a woman’s body and how it is adorned is open for conversation and judgment. When, really, it doesn’t matter at all. I get that it's tongue-in-cheek, but can articles relating to yoga that are actually engaging and positive be the norm now instead of ones that are all about snark? Just a thought from a feminist yogi...
By on September 07, 2011
Mark, surely you've seen the brilliant satire of the lululemon manifesto? If not, you MUST: http://seacowcoalition.com/
Cheers :-)
By on September 05, 2011
The alignment of the Lulu diva's in the above picture is absolutely horrifying. As a yoga teacher,I shudder...
By on August 28, 2011
Very funny, very true. I have practiced yoga for many years, and taught for a few of those years, and the best teachers have had the simplest clothes and did not care about brands. The body underneath the clothing was so toned it made the clothing irrelevant.
If people find yoga clothes comfortable for other activities great, they can wear them however it suits them to do so. Thank you thank you though for pointing out the very amusing egotistical competitiveness between yoga practitioners of every level. They have to be more centered, closer to nirvana, have the tightest camel toe hugging tights, show the most chest hair, be the most "natural", have the most body hair (women with the armpit forest to declare their feminism and allegiance to the natural life style yet cut their scalp hair and wear unnatural amounts of jewelry),wear the most Lululemon... Kudos too to the commenter who included the $5000 yoga retreats. It's a free country, one can pay as much as you want to have wheat grass enema or practice yoga with an airbrushed teacher in a foreign country, but don't expect that it will get you any closer to good health, physical or mental.
By on August 23, 2011
where did you develop such a bitterness toward clothes? and the women who buy them, for that matter? I agree Western culture tends to be "deeply authentic in our wild misunderstandings of tradition." but dude, chill out! these well-made clothes give confidence to women who occasionally want to feel "active." So what? are you being authentic to the pure tradition of every piece of clothing you don every day? Lululemon are just doing a kick-a*s job marketing a quality product. if you don't like their clothes don't buy them. And if you don't like the women who wear them I suggest you stop teaching at expensive yoga studios like Yoga Tree and go perform a positive and uplifting service to humanity instead of hating.
By on August 21, 2011
Best article I've read in a long time! Every word ringing true, can't women find something else to wear instead of being so lazy to role out in Lululemon layered attire? And since when do most of these women even wear Lulu to an ACTUAL yoga class? The majority wear it to Eastside/West or Mas Sake to be "chill" yet still rock the logo. It's all about being "seen." I say, forget the Lulu and get on the mat!
By on August 20, 2011
First and foremost, nicely done. You took all of your bitterness and rage over the fact that women might not actually give a shit about maintaining holistic integrity, finding center or establishing stillness, and you funneled it into quite a verbose linguistic tantrum. I know it's hard to believe (since you are such a well-centered, non-materialistic, and obviously quite humble yoga instructor), but some just do it to feel physically fit and strong and...look good! Funny, there's quite a few men strolling around town wearing overpriced running shoes. By the looks of their rounded guts (as they throw back another shot of wheatgrass from the organic farmers market) I'm doubting they ever "go for a jog". That being said, I wear my Lulu to work, run, cycle, train, run errands, and even do yoga! When yoga instructors stop charging for their classes and yoga studios stop trying to sell me $5,000 "yoga retreats" you can preach to me about living the deeper truths of yoga. And frankly, why would I want to wear anything else when my Lulu capris make my ass look finer than any pair of True Religion jeans ever could???
You're a funny bastard though, I give you that.
By on August 19, 2011
brilliant! we can't stop laughing.
By on August 19, 2011
Great on so many levels. First time I've read Mark. Awesome and so true.
By on August 19, 2011
Mark Morford, you are basically brilliant!
By on August 19, 2011
Love this! Mark Morford helps us not take ourselves too seriously. Honest...witty and totally original.
By on August 18, 2011
great writing! so funny and true! loved it! :)
By on August 18, 2011
Whoa, CC I think your karma ran over your dogma. Or whatever. Chill the fuck out. Tongue seems firmly in cheek on this one. Funny stuff.
By on August 18, 2011
The Lululemon mafia has had me chuckling behind my prayer-positioned hands for years :-) Thanks for calling them out, MM!
By on August 18, 2011
I do not know the first thing about yoga trends or the sub-culture of this group. That all aside this was funny as heck to read. Well done sir.
By on August 18, 2011
Thanks, Mark Morford, for reducing the women of San Francisco -- and many of your students, and peers' students, at YogaTree -- to vapid, materialistic stereotypes.
Go screw yourself, you superior jackass.
By on August 18, 2011
This is-as always from MM, great stuff-I'm an avid fan of ALL of Mark's writings---and I'm a "straight male" too. But, I never feel the need to.. say it...so often. Ever, in fact. Jussayin'.
By on August 18, 2011
I've been waiting for someone to write this article. I do yoga in 15-year-old sweats. NYC suffers from yoga fashion as much as SF.
By on August 18, 2011
Brilliant and original, thank you! We need more essays like this in SF...let's not gaze too much in our well fed and sometimes toned navels!
By on August 17, 2011
This is unabashedly honest, delightful, and perfectly written. High-five, seriously.
By on August 17, 2011
I was having such a great time reading this article then got to the bottom and realized why...suprising and fun to find Mark Morford crops up in the strangest of places
By on August 17, 2011
that was an awesome pice of writing!
By on August 17, 2011
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