Recently I attended an US Weekly sponsored Tracy Anderson workout: I basically died from the adrenaline of meeting my fitness guru. Miraculously I was revived when she cupped my ass with her hands and told me that I was a “star student.” She then furrowed her taut brow and warned me to focus more on my glutes (not my quads). The earth shattered and then embraced me in its deconstructed fragments as I looked into her big blue eyes surrounded by orange poreless skin. She was so small that I could tuck her into my hip like a child as we posed for photos. I felt so much guilt for all the times I have ever strayed from her narrow and difficult path and felt confident that if I return to her PROGRAM, everything will be okay, everything will be manageable. As the less dutiful attendees asked her silly questions about what to do if her workouts are too hard on your knees, she ignored them and refocused on me and Joanne from Connecticut when we proudly announced that we had been following her for three years. I joked that it was such a treat to be felt up by her in public. Tracy slyly replied that it was a treat to feel me up in public. Oh Tracy, such a sense of humor.
Okay, now that you know about my cult experience, on to the real issue.
Would I have had even more fun at this event if my sneakers were as colorful as my amazing Onzie tights? Yes. And the nice thing is you HAVE to replace your running shoes, so next time around I am totally going to get those Asics Gel-Kayanos in purple and pink. Because . . . it’s what Tracy would do.
But there is a darker side to athletic wear. One that I have become very attuned to since my time in Indiana and NYC. This is the dangerous world of replacing normal clothes with stylish and fun athletic wear. A concept that I am constantly toying with:
Now some people do this in a way that truly elevates sneakers to actual clothing.
The much much darker side of this is the full on athletic wear look:
As I stand behind women in full on black leggings and neon sneakers (NYC) or sorority girls in running shorts and tank tops with very large armholes (Indiana) in a Starbucks line, I am filled with awe at their superwomen inspired outfits. But the real reason that I cannot emulate these women is not their impressively skinny limbs, it’s that these women are not messy like I am. They have well-clipped cuticles, water-proof mascara, and most importantly, tanned and well moisturized skin that seems to blend into the stretchy and tight athletic wear. They wear their skin like lycra and their lycra like skin.
Only when I have mastered the putty colored manicure and bare yet glowing skin, all topped off with a smart blazer and some ankle grazing slacks should I be allowed to wear these as my footwear: