The (Dis)Pleasures of Wearing Yoga Pants

December 6, 2013
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Yoga pants – the item of the moment. If we can indeed give such a title to an item of clothing as we would Ryan Gosling or quinoa. The thing that memes and dreams are made of. Those sexy, stretchy, silhouette enhancing, boner-inducing poor excuse for pants that we’re allowing women to get around in nowadays, if you’ll allow me to sound like a disapproving fuddy-duddy for a moment.

yoga pants

What if there was a place where you could stare at them without sunglasses to hide behind? Where the women wearing them were constantly bending and stretching, testing their seams to the nth degree?

Good news folks, there is such a place. At most gyms in most areas of the world you can find a yoga class and for a small monetary exchange those dreams can become your reality! Yes, the sport came before the pants, believe it or not. We’re so balls deep into the trend that it’s easy to forget about their humble beginnings, pre-Google images and desktop wallpaper.

If a male were to take a yoga class there’s a very good chance they’d be the only one, which means they’d already the most masculine and testosterone-filled specimen there (hopefully). Surely that’s an appealing trait in any situation.

I have a love/hate relationship with legging-type pants. On one hand I can’t comfortably wear them in public without feeling as if I’ve got a glowing neon sign saying “look at my crotch please!” and I spend the whole time wondering if mine is as eye catching as any cyclists. Hopefully not, considering the lack of, err… bulk? On the other hand I know, as do all women, how amazing it feels to take your butt a wiggly little stroll.

I figure that as fashions tend to yo-yo in extremes, ultra tight and form-flattering pants will give way to something rather frumpish and you will once again have to use your imagination to tell what someone looks like sans-clothes. What a drag…

Speaking of drag, on a recent hiking trip I was absentmindedly checking out a woman’s peach-like bum, bobbing up and down ahead of me. It was round and lovely and wearing that type of pants that are more reminiscent of a coat of paint than actual clothes. It was only when I finally got in front and offered a passing greeting to my fellow hiker that I found it was no woman at all and in fact a rather old man. It seems the yoga pants trend is now not only appealing to all ages but no longer denies genders either – something to bear in mind if you are less liberal than myself in your choice of eye candy.

As far as men indulging in the trend goes, I’m on the fence, neither here nor there – kind of like my hiking buddy’s testicles – yet to decide on which side of the seam to rest on.

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