PEEK-A-BOO

So today I am thinking about appropriate Yoga attire.  I just got my most recent issue of Yoga Journal and those slim, muscular, "yoga butt" 20-something models are so inspiring.  They all look fabulous in their print spandex yoga pants (black is so last season!) and little halter tops.

I know my meditation practice is suppose to help me dissolve my Ego, but when I dress for Yoga class, Ego seems to be looking back at me from the mirror in spite of my best meditative mantras.  I generally choose among two or three pairs of comfortable pants.  Two out of the three are, admittedly, black (Call the Fashion Police!) and one is gray; no colorful prints.  A halter top would scare the other students, so I usually choose a Yoga Circle T-shirt or, on days when I feel a bit more coverage over the "abs" is called for, I don one of my baggy T's.

My favorite T-shirts are V-necked or boat necked and the one I wore today (baggy and comfy) has maybe a slightly lower V-cut than is a good idea for Cat-Cow pose.  As I looked down I could see, at least from my vantage point, a fair amount of cleavage showing.  I took a quick glance across the room to see if anyone else seemed to notice and all were discreetly concentrating on perfecting their asana alignment.   Still….

It reminded me of a Yoga On The Beach class my husband and I took at a vacation resort in Hawaii.  Our instructor was right out of Yoga Journal, which wasn't intimidating at all.    Everything was going along fine, until about two-thirds of the way through class I noticed that her scoop-necked spandex top was scooping way too far south and in danger of the big reveal.  I glanced at my husband, who glanced at me, and we both turned to give our instructor our full attention.   I was holding my breath in sympathetic embarrassment; perhaps my husband was holding his breath too, but likely for a different reason.

Before long, sure enough, 'pop'!  One side of her top slipped below the Mason Dixon and her bosom went full Rebel on her.  But, professional that she was, she never skipped a beat, not even acknowledging the errant body part.  She simply reached up from her Upward Facing Dog pose, pulled her top back in place, and just kept talking.  I was quite impressed with her poise.  My husband seemed to take a renewed interest in going to Yoga classes that week.

Well, anyway, I'm glad nothing like that happened to me today.  I just kept yanking my shirt up and wishing I had a safety pin.  I'll continue to dress for comfort; style be damned. ©

Namaste…donnajurene

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