Yoga Porn

As promised, we’ve got our first guest blogger.  After watching me spend hours typing away on Eddyfication updates, Lizzi has decided to try her hand at blogging.  The below is a story that she shared with a few close friends and family shortly after arriving in Tokyo.  Enjoy!

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My first (and favorite) encounter with the bizarre residents of this strange city was a young woman who frequented the yoga studio at which I trained (and now teach).

She usually enters class 15 – 20 minutes late, which is poor form in the yoga world.  This is the girl who has crap spilling everywhere and is a disheveled mess – there’s nothing discrete or orderly about her.  We all know people like this.

There aren’t many studios in the states that will allow someone to enter a class that late.  Here, however, this is accepted.  I started noticing her because she’d come to class wearing odd clothes.  Her tank tops were cable knit sweaters and she’d often get so hot during class that she’d end up wearing a sports bra with a cargo vest over it.  It was strange, and some days I found myself checking the clock in anticipation of her arrival, the spectacle to be seen.

One day in particular she came into class (late, of course) and threw her mat down directly in front of me. She was wearing a turtleneck sweater that was sleeveless and went down to her thighs with black tights underneath.  If I saw her walking down the street in such an outfit I probably would have thought it was an odd top.  But in a yoga class this qualified as really out there!  I tried my hardest to stay in the yoga zone.  I told myself over and over again, “Don’t worry about her – just focus on the breath.  Inhale….exhale…Ahhhhhh.”  But then…

There it was.  Her “vajayjay” (as Oprah would say) in my face.  Yes, she had tights on under the sweater dress.  Thin wear-to-the-office type tights – Donna Karen opaques.  Not thick running pants that look like tights, or cycling pants that look like tights, or – here’s a thought – YOGA PANTS!!!

No people…tights that you can completely see through when you put your hands and feet on the ground and throw your ass in the air – otherwise known as Downward Facing Dog.  I must add here that she was not wearing undies.  I’ve never understood the thong-free move with tights but that’s another issue.  Right now we have to stay focused on the problem at hand…the yoga porn star.

There in my secure environment, on my yoga mat, in my personal sanctuary that was a yoga studio, I was violated.  I was basically positioned to give this chick her yearly pap smear.  For the rest of the class the only thing I thought about was NOT looking up.  I’ve never hated a posture as much as I hated downward facing dog that day.  In fact, that pose has never been the same for me.  I have a mental scar from seeing her bits and pieces up close and WAY too personal.

Aside from coming to class late, this little gem leaves early too – interrupting the energy everyone had worked up.  I had no chance to tell her that I had some extra yoga pants she could have if she needed them.  No chance to tell her that she ought to think about a Brazilian wax if she insists on displaying her merchandise like that (I know – disgusting.  Imagine how I felt).  Even if I did want to say something nice to make her aware of her clothing (or lack thereof!) “mishap”, she never gave me the opportunity.

She still shows up to classes all the time – always comes late and leaves early.  But I NEVER leave myself in a position to be directly behind her!  No ma’am, flash me once, shame on you!  Flash me twice…no way in hell!