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Three Tangentially-Related Mini-Rants Inspired by the BlahBlahBlogosphere

March 10, 2011

On Human Trafficking

Okay, this isn’t a mini-rant at all; it’s an entreaty.  If you’re at all into yoga, or perhaps just an Abolitionist (and these days who doesn’t fall into at least one of those camps?), please check out the organization below and consider joining a Yoga Stops Traffick event near you.   The YST website has links to participating venues around the world, or you can form your own YST group.  Get a few like-minded souls together, do some salutations, throw a few bucks in a hat, and forward said bucks to help stop human trafficking.  You can even skip the salutations if you’re lazy.


On Short Shorts

There’s been much ado about next to nothing of late on the interwebbings regarding the topic of hot pants and yoga.  My own opinions on the topic are limited to these [potentially opposing] two:

(1) I can completely understand the tendency to become quite particular about one’s yoga garb, to the extent that one might practice exclusively in certain types of clothing using function over form or modesty in selection of said outfit.  For me, this would mean tights falling below the knee but above the calf and a tank top perhaps a touch too low cut if only to ensure no chafing in the tender armpit area.  Since I most definitely possess neither the physique nor the personality to dress like this outside of the studio, I can tell you this is strictly functional, and I’m super sorry if anyone gets more cleavage than they care for when I’m in class.  All I can offer in consolation is that I always wear a bra, and at least I’m highly successful in keeping my butt crack covered.

(2) I can not however understand why is it accepted that pretty much any person of any body type can wear almost nothing in a Bikram class, but take the hot pants out of the hot yoga studio, and you have a scandal.  Is it because we Ashtangis expect something more chaste, more… yogic of one another than we do of the Hot Heathens in the mirrored room?  I know I do.  I’ll excuse almost any behavior in that setting because on some level that I’m barely admitting right now… I don’t take other forms of yoga all that seriously.  This is shitty on my part – there is much to be gained from yoga of any type, and Ashtanga is certainly not the only “traditional” form out there.  Nor does a break from a strict lineage necessarily mean the invalidation of a form of yoga anyway.   And frankly, I don’t even adhere to the series more than three times a week, so I’m just a big old hypocrite in tights with no moral high horse to even bother dismounting.   But I don’t know how to take someone seriously when they’re practicing in a strapless bra.  I know I should, but I’m not there yet.

As an aside, I love my yoga studio and my chubby Rust Belt town because no one wears hot pants or sports bras to class.  At least not without sweatpants and an old Foreigner T-Shirt from that ’89 tour over them.


On Keyword Searches

I am deeply ambivalent about the fact that the #1 search term that leads people (up to nine of them in any given day) to my blog is “whore house haarlem.”  On some level, I am happy that this is what brings them here.  There are so many better blogs out there on topics of interest to me – wine, yoga, coffee, Ashtanga yoga, red wine, cats, dark chocolate, yoga tights, removing Cabernet stains from yoga tights, & cetera, that I’m glad my contribution to the world could be a random picture of a brothel in Haarlem, as memorialized here. But how disappointed are the apparently dozen of people who have probably stood in the Haarlem town square jonesing for some bonesing, and searching on their smartphones for someone to Google their Bings, when their frantic thumb-typing turns up this train wreck of a site?  I don’t actually know how to score them a score of any sort – hell, I could just barely find myself a cup of coffee in Haarlem, and there are at least 10% more cafes there than whorehouses.   Worse yet – what if it’s a typo?  What if there are horny skeeveballs wandering the streets of Harlem looking for a hooker (and I know there are), and, due to their fateful typographical errors, stumbling upon my rants?

Gentlemen, I’m sorry for the confusion.  If you do find what you’re looking for, wear a condom.  And if you suspect she’s underage, go home and donate the money you would have spent here, instead.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. March 12, 2011 3:41 am

    I’m interested in this yoga clothing rage, what I always noticed is that for as many different types of yoga that there are, there is a culture to go along with it, and an outfit. Though it’s probably bias of me, I always thought Ashtangis cared less about the clothes and more about the yoga, and scoffed when other schools of thought talked about Lululemon being a way of life etc., I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t admit that publicly. Aside from that, to each her own… if you wanna practice in a loin cloth do it up! P.S. YST was super cute here (and hot!) we usually practice early morning 8am was burning up. The kids did the counting (all at different speeds) and we got free coconuts afterwards 🙂

    • March 12, 2011 11:12 am

      I like to think we care less about the clothes, too, but maybe it’s just that we practice so often… Who can afford 6 pairs of lulus with matching tops to get you through the week?

      I don’t know if I would have made it through a practice of YST kids counting without crying at least once. Luckily EMW is just donating today’s profits, so I could “contribute” without thinking to much about the issue, which is kind of how I need to approach most charitable contributions.

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