Crop tops are making a comeback, ladies! Especially when it comes to fitness. The off-the-shoulder 80’s variety has been happening for a few years and “tasteful midriff” has been all over red carpets this past year but now the shrunken 90’s belly-baring style we all remember from our Gwen Stefani posters is back big time too – in fitness.
Just got this ad in the mail from Dancewear Solutions! Anyone want to sing Tragic Kingdom with me??
And I’ll admit that with a tank underneath, I kind of love the look. I’ve always been a fan of layers!
True story: At a previous gym a woman was spotted lifting weights in a tiny crop top, similar to this but a bit shorter:
That last detail is important because every time she lifted her arms to do her shoulder press, her shirt went right up with her – at which point everyone discovered she wasn’t wearing a sports bra underneath. Oops. There were a few awkward minutes where everyone wondered if we were really seeing what we were seeing but yes, we were all watching Twin Peaks, no TNN channel required. A gym employee hurriedly offered her a large gym tee to cover her goodies. I love the cut-up-tee trend as much as the next girl (probably more than the next girl, actually) but that was a bit over the top. (haha, see what I did there? I’ll be here all day.)
Sleek hair, impeccable styling, perfect makeup – even though everything about her screamed model I still couldn’t believe my eyes. And yet there she was staring right back at me from a full-page glossy photo fashion spread for The Row, Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen’s high-end fashion line.
The lovely 65-year-old Linda Rodin even had the audacity to accessorize her gray hair and wrinkles with a whimsical smile! Excuse me, but who said old people are allowed to look and feel beautiful? Certainly not popular culture. And yet how adorable is Rodin here, in a separate ad campaign?
I want to be her best friend… and borrow her shoes
Every article you read about aging is either about how to fight it with expensive creams, pills, diets and treatments or how to “accept it gracefully” as if you were losing a coveted award but still wanted to appear above it all. Even when we do pay lip service and put a cover models are a 50-and-fabulous Ellen Degeneres, they still photoshop her to look 25. This subtle ageism is especially apparent in fitness magazines, which is funny since every piece of fitness advice I’ve ever read says that exercise should be a life-long pursuit.
See, these ladies love working out in footed jammies! And so can you!
“Cute pedi!,” my neighbor said.
“Thanks! Jelly Bean and I got bored the other day and we painted our nails.” (Which she immediately peeled off even though I’d just spent half an hour hunched over fingernails the size of rabbit pellets. Kids.)
“So fancy! What is that – glitter?”
I wiggled my toes happily in the grass and replied, “Yep! I painted them black and then did a top coat of ‘Jessica Rabbit’!” (It’s a chunky red glitter custom-made by my friend Krissy of Glitter Bombs Away.” Also? Krissy has THE BEST names for her polishes!)
These are Krissy’s nails. Gorg, no?? I have neither the time nor the patience to do this on myself but I admire those who can!
“You going to yoga today?”
“Huh?” It was such a non-sequitur that I was momentarily rendered speechless. While I do love yoga and have taken a few classes at my new gym, I haven’t found anything that I love and (sadly) yoga hasn’t been a very regular part of my life since moving here. Why would she think I was going to yoga?
Truth: I will watch ANY show with dancing in it. I don’t care how spurious the plot, how pedantic the dialog, how vacuous the characters. I love watching people dance. And these girls are aMAYzing ballet dancers.
The ballerinas started it. There I was watching my guilty pleasure Breaking Pointe – it’s basically the Real Housewives of Ballet West and not at all like Breaking Bad (I swear I only watch it for the dancing…) – when this conversation happened:
[Two teeeeny ballerinas kneeling side by side on yoga mats and doing random arm exercises with 5-lb weights and talking]
Allison: Everyone tells me I have amazing arms. And people are like “Oh your arms look so nice, do you go to the gym?”
Beckanne (yes, that’s her real name. I think her mother must have been really fond of chicken calls): Oh yes! I say I just started and…
Allison: NO! No. You say “no”!
Allison: No you say, “I don’t work out, this is all natural.”
Beckanne [gesturing to her lithe body]: Well this is all natural!
Have you seen these?! Adidas unveiled their new “springblade” running shoes this week and I’m kind of dying to try* them. From my highly (non)scientific analysis, they seem to be based on the same principle behind the carbon fiber “blade” prosthetics used by Oscar Pistorious in the Olympics. And I remember a big hullabaloo at the time about how they made him “inhumanly” fast which is why I totally want to try these shoes. Even though Oscar Pistorious is a total d-bag and these are made out of plastic and… oh don’t rain on my parade. They’re kinda pretty in a weird, funky way, no? Sort of like a cross between track spikes, those Kangaroo bouncy shoes and those little plastic doohickeys we used in the 80’s to make hook rugs. LOVE. (Both the shoes and the rugs. I was seriously into hooking – of the rug variety – as a kid.)
This pic is from my Great CrossFit Experiment a few years ago and… I almost didn’t post it at the time because I was embarrassed by my “big quads”. Now I’m just embarrassed that there’s no weight on the bar and my wrists are so bent! (In my defense, we were using un-weighted bars to practice good form first – practice I clearly needed.)
I did something really daring the other day: I went to the gym in some really crazy workout pants. Oh, wait, I do that all the time. No the daring part was that these particular Nike leggings, while super cute, are also ridiculously unflattering. They were a gift and I love the gift-giver so I have kept them but they are a swirly dark pattern with two patches of bright white over each thigh. They’re basically a neon arrow pointing straight to my much-obsessed-over and daily-derided trouble spot, the one I’m most intent on camouflaging. It’s not my friend’s fault – she has long, thin Gisele-esque legs that would look good in pants literally made up of neon arrows but she and I, well, we both may put our pants on one leg at a time but our legs sure don’t look the same in said pants! So why on earth would I wear something so unflattering out in public?
I dunno Lane Bryant, I just don’t think our relationship is to that level yet where I tell you which strange fruit my girls most resemble. (Image Source)
Tutus, spangly leotards, glittery leggings, neon arm warmers and even a cape and motorcycle helmet (I was a human cannonball for our most recent TurboKick circus-themed dress-up day) are just a few of things I’ve shown up in at the gym recently – suffice it to say, I have worn some weird stuff to workout in. I’m not a shrinking violet when it comes to fitness fashion (or any fashion, really). But, there is one thing I haven’t ever – not even once! – worn to the gym: A sports bra. Lest you think I’m flying free, I should clarify; I’ve never worn just a sports bra to the gym.
Eating, sitting and pooping are generally considered life skills and yet I spent a portion of today – Easter Sunday, one of the High Food Holidays, no less – unable to do any of the above. The problem started, as it often does with me, with a mystery package dropped on my doorstep by the invisible fairy-men from the land of Fed-Ex. (Seriously I never see those guys/girls – they ring my doorbell and run so fast it’s like my packages appear by magic. Maybe they heard of the day I had to chase two of my kids all the way down the block wearing nothing but a towel? Yeah, I’d run too. Anyhow.) Sweet reader G (love you, girl!) is a costumer in California and came across an old time-y girdle in the discard pile. Rather than see it go to the great vintage shop in the sky she packaged that baby up and sent it my way!
Sitting at the gym, minding everybody’s business but my own, I got into a conversation about a recent road race. I didn’t run it but several of the Gym Buddies did and as everyone knows, one of the best parts of running a race is getting to swagger around in your race jacket (or tee or sweatshirt or medal or beanie or pink diamond necklace or – if you’re a real super star – all of the above) for weeks afterward. Except this day, the Big Day After the Race, oddly no one was sporting their swag. What was going on? Everyone get a case of the humble virus?
Allison explained that it was because her new sweatshirt had been upgraded to her “nice clothing” category and therefore was too good to be sweated upon at the gym. (And really it is a super cute hoodie!) Another Gym Buddy explained that while she loved hers and it was super comfy, the slogan – “Get Lucky” (it was a St. Patrick’s day run, get it??) – felt too risque to wear in public. Especially when she is surrounded by her kids; naifs, yes, but also walking, talking proof of her ability to, ahem, get lucky. (Side note: Anyone remember Lucky Brand jeans in the 90’s with their “Lucky you!” printed on the inside of the fly?? I wore those all through college and blushed every time I peed. Needless to say, I was the only person who ever saw it.)
Sarah Jessica Parker is the next step in evolution. Girlfriend recently confessed in an interview that her secret power is creating new bones. Like, inside herself and not in the form of a baby, dermoid cyst or alien experimentation! How’d did she get this magical talent? By murdering her feet with high heels. Naturally. Anyone who’s watched any fantasy movies knows that magic always comes with a price! “You don’t get something for nothing, dearie!” And in this case, her messed up bone structure in her feet comes courtesy of her ten years playing Mahnolo-obsessed Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City. (Confession: I’ve never seen that show. Not even once. And yet I know all the characters’ names! Well, especially Charlotte’s. That one just sticks in my mind for some reason. So pretty!)
Sarah explained to Net-a-Porter,
“For ten or so years, I literally ran in heels. I worked 18-hour days and never took them off. I wore beautiful shoes, some better made than others, and never complained.”
“I went to a foot doctor and he said, ‘Your foot does things it shouldn’t be able to do. That bone there … you’ve created that bone. It doesn’t belong there.'”