Ode to the Track Suit….
My first workout session is coming up on Monday and my fitness wardrobe needs a serious overhaul. I’m basing this opinion on the observations I made during my consultation session.
The women I saw were decked out in fitness gear bearing the logo’s of Lululemon, Athletica, Lucy, Gaiam and Nike….just to name a few….and while I wasn’t concerned about matching the labels, the overall style theme was the catalyst for my wardrobe review.
If my workouts were going to involve hiking, I would be all set. My backpacking gear, clothing included, is organized and stored in air tight containers. There is a wide variety to choose from and it all meets the qualifications for appropriate trail wear based on the weather, seasons and terrain.
My workout clothes on the other hand, are stored in a heap….in a drawer I rarely open….and only when I’m looking for something to paint, clean or garden in.
There are the black Nike wind pants with the slit at the ankles that create a bootcut look over my sneakers….or the black Adidas track pants with three electric blue stripes running down the outside of each pant leg. Both pairs have a coordinating jacket that would look really awesome if I were working out sometime in the late 90’s.
There is also my collection of black sweat pants and black sweat shirts that would make me look right at home if I were working out in the aisles of Walmart, but something tells me the mishmash of unidentifiable stains….mixed with various shades of paint and bleach splotches….would make me stand out like a Hostess Cupcake on an elliptical.
It seems that these days, all of the clothing is crafted out of form fitting polyester or spandex and leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.
Of course, I’m not blind, I’ve seen women walking around in Yoga pants, but I assumed they were all heading to Yoga….or just too lazy to wear real pants. But really, whatever happened to velour track suits and loose fitting nylon/cotton?
I’m certainly not going to judge another woman’s body, but the current trend of clothing makes me look like I’m smuggling sacks of flour on my outer thighs and the shirts accentuate the rolling hills of gluttony on my abdomen.
Is it supposed to be somehow motivational to watch myself workout before a full length mirror with all my jiggly bits stuffed into spandex like an overstuffed sausage casing?
How am I supposed to focus on squats and lunges if I’m too busy wondering whether or not there are dimples across my backside forming the constellation Ursa Major Ass?
I know that spandex isn’t a new thing in fitness fashion….the 80’s were full of leotards, unitards and biker shorts in shocking colors and geometric prints….but the 90’s ushered in loose fitting cotton and nylon sweats, so come on ladies, why are we regressing?!
Regretfully, the aisles at the local sporting goods and department stores I visited offered little in the way of options circa the 1990’s. So, I’ve loaded up on a mix of tight fitting capri’s and pants I’ll be pairing with shirts large enough to be tarps….and I’ve picked up a can of Crisco to grease myself into it all for Monday’s workout….where I’m likely to generate enough friction to start a fire.