(This article was published on YOGANONYMOUS, 2/27/13.)
Confession: I’ve been sans pants for the better part of a year.
That hair-splitting minx, Miss Popular Culture has decided that yoga pants are not legitimate pants.
Blissful with ignorance, I have schlepped from studio to coffee haus to home in ain’tpants, fauxpants and nopants.
If you’ve got beef with yoga pants, you’ve got beef with yogis. You can clutch your pearls and give us the side-eye all you want. We’ve got our thighs on the prize and will cling to these almostpants until our last ujjayi breath.
Not familiar with the war on britches? Here’s what doodes on the worldwide web preach about questionable bottoms:
“Don’t be a slut.” Don’t be a jerkstore.
“Leggings wearers sh!t me to tears.” Okay, that one is funny. I luh me some hyperbole.
“Become a fan if you HATE when ppl wear leggings as pants.” Exuberant as this invitation is, all caps are also not pants.
“So i was in class today and this girl walked in with brown leggings, as pants of course, and i could see her thick-seamed, white panties with pink polka dots through them.” This kind of inspection reveals that you’re a pervertosaurus and your mom should smack your punk ass.
Does it disturb you that there are creepers out there who might sneak up on your innocent hindquarters and put the invasive results up for comment in public? It should.
I pity the fool who would try to slink into my blind spot for a photo opportunity. Yogis are strong-legged. But, ahimsa (do not harm), forevah.
People who think yoga pants are not real pants are the same people who think expresso is espresso. There is no ‘x’ in the Italian alphabet and there are no real pants in my closet.
Let’s put a fine point on it; I’m a yoga teacher, so if yoga pants aren’t pants, I only make money when I’m pantsless. Everything seems to be in order here.
Over yonder, at lululemon, customers have coined their own acronyms to cover their asses. VPL= visible panty line, DDC= down dog check.
Opacity is key for us yoga bunnies. We’ve got this down. No need for unsolicited opinions in our pantaloons. Women do not have to take this ish.
Does it offend your sensibilities when leggings masquerade as pants? Like my girl Stevie Nicks said,“You can go your own way.”
There’s a threadbare line between fashion policing and slut-shaming. Is there an outcry over men who wear Zubaz (and Speedos) to vinyasa flow? Nyet. There shouldn’t be. If some gentle soul shows up to my yoga class in Zubaz, I will salute them. To wear Zubaz is to have courage.
Yogis tend to cherish comfort over formality, on and off the mat. We’re too busy practicing astavakrasana (all eight angles of it, motherhugger) in our leggings that do not qualify as pants to iron slacks.
The fact that Ganesh, Allah, the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother Earth and Almighty Gawd gave us these yoga pants is proof that they want us to be comfortable. We must enjoy this bounty and coexist in bum-cuppin’ coziness and harmony.
Go ahead honey, declare yourself Huntress of Nearlypants. Own them.
Sure as the moon waxes gibbous, I’ll be over here, rolling with my omies, sportingnopantsarethebestpants.
ps: Liza Minnelli rocks nothing but hardlypants and she’s a goddamn legend.
Bottom photo: officiallizaminnelli.com