Apple store in Amsterdam
A couple weeks ago I found a pair of yoga pants online that I have become obsessed with. I don’t generally become obsessed with wanting things, especially clothes, but I can not stop thinking about these pants. I would link to them except the website is worthless. Remember when I was complaining about worthless restaurant sites? I should have also mentioned clothing sites that don’t let you link directly to a piece of clothing.
How handy is that during the holidays to send someone a URL with a note, “Wouldn’t this teal sweater, size small, look fantastic on me?”
This magical yoga pants site has about 30 tiny thumbnails so I’d have to say, click on the thumbnail down 4 and over 5 and I won’t do it.
I’ve been wondering if I should get the brown pair with the fold-over waistband or the gray pair with the little blue stitching or the bootcut (!) black pair with the roses on the ass.
I keep telling myself I shouldn’t get these yoga pants. Among the many things I disapprove of for no legitimate reason are schmancy yoga clothes. When I took my first yoga class in ’96 I wore a black leotard that a woman on the other side of town sewed for me and black tights. I looked like a model in a 70’s yoga book. I wore that outfit for at least 7 years.
But these pants look fantastic and they aren’t ridiculously expensive.
I’m a grown-up. I earn money. I can decide whether to spend it on yoga pants, prime rib or electricity.
Indian shop in Amsterdam
But the thing I realized is that I’m not so much obsessed with the yoga pants as I am obsessed about the way they look on the model. I realize that our entire culture of buying shit is based on making people want stuff because fabulous looking people are using it. I don’t think there is enough Brazilian Butt Lift in the world to save me and that that path is just going to lead to disappointment.
I’m going to get them anyway.