I've pretty much worn the same exercise top for the past four years. It's a gray t-shirt. Boring and old. In light of the fact that my yoga obsession has a reached a fever pitch of late, I decided to treat myself to new gear. I went to Title 9.
Note: I cannot afford Title 9. I went anyway and bought four expensive tops for yoga. They are
colorful and have elastic to keep parts in place. They are tank tops with cool necklines that I'm sure have fancy words to describe the cut, but I don't know what those words are. In any case, I was very excited.
I went to one of my regular classes. I arrived late and the room is small, so I was relegated to the front, right next to the teacher. We began with opening awareness and the setting of intentions. The usual drill. I felt good in my new top.
I felt downright fashionable.
We stood and the heat kicked on.
The room was already warm and this was not a hot yoga class. The heating system was simply malfunctioning and
forcing us into a hot yoga class.
We began a standing series. We flowed. And it quickly became apparent to me that
my cute little new top would not, in fact, contain my breasts. This, despite the presence of what I considered a built-in bra. They hovered dangerously close to escape during down dog, but then really threatened to break free when I came through for up dog.
This is a picture of upward facing dog. Except this woman was smart enough to secure her breasts first.
Shit, I muttered, which completely contradicts the peace-love-free-calm-happy feeling that I strive for in yoga. I tried to discreetly tuck the girls back into place a few times. But
when you're standing at the front of the class and everyone else is facing you, discretion is tricky. It simply wasn't going to work.
The heat continued to malfunction and pour into the room from a vent above me. At the same time, I admitted defeat and put on my hoodie. It was my only option, other than leave. The hood fell down over my face on every forward fold, the ridiculous amount of clothing I wore, combined with the relentless heat, made me extremely uncomfortable, which again, contradicts the whole point.
But I finished the class with my boobs hidden from sight. For which I believe my classmates are truly grateful. I still love the top, and it will look great with a pair of jeans. But when it comes to yoga, I'm going with my old gray t-shirt.
