Women Who Do And Women Who Don’t

For a couple years now, I’ve separated the women of the world into two types: those who wear Lululemon workout wear and those who do not.
(For those of you who have no idea what Lululemon workout wear is, congratulations! You definitely know which category you fit in! And you probably don’t care about this post at all But read on. Become informed about overpriced yoga wear).
Two years ago, I began going to our gym every day. But for the first year, I didn’t work out. I dropped my child(ten) off at the Child Care and went to the Cafe to write and eat organic eggs scrambled with feta cheese and mango salsa.
To be honest, I mostly went to the club to feel like a grown-up, right in the middle of my life that’s ruled by kids.
At the club, hundreds of women were also there to feel like grown-ups. Only they were actually exercising, not just people watching and eating eggs. They were all also wearing Lululemon workout clothes. No, seriously, I mean all of them. Lululemon pants, shirts, bags, hoodies, water bottles, headbands, sports bras, and socks. EVERYWHERE.
It felt like 1987, when every girl at Weis Middle School was suddenly wearing a ten-button henley from Outback Red. Just like then, I was flabbergasted. HOW HAD THIS STARTED? How had every single girl gotten the memo to go to the Limited and buy the same shirt?
How had every woman gotten the memo to drive thirty minutes to buy all this Lululemon stuff? What happened to Nike shorts and Gap tank tops? Or ANYTHING without the Lululemon logo stamped on it? What were they not telling me?
So, I investigated. I went to the Lululemon store, prepared to be amazed by the racks of clearance pants. I was prepared to say, “No wonder hundreds of women buy this stuff every day! It’s made of miracle fabric and dirt cheap!”
It was not dirt cheap. Spending less than $50 would get you t a headband. And I couldn’t vouch for the miracle-ness of the fabric because there were no dressing rooms open. Which, huh? Really? Really, you expect me to take a number and sit and wait to try on a sixty-dollar running skirt?
So, I asked an employee, “Do you have any sales?”
And she was like, “Ummm, no.”
Which, of course no sales, Tina. It’s not like they’re really HAVING TROUBLE selling anything for the asking price.
Around that same time a news story about a Lululemon murder starting circulating on Facebook. The story claimed the Lululemon employee culture is so competitive that one employee killed another over commision.
That gruesome story,  combined with my repressed frustration with being late to the Outback Red trend, combined with my fascination of Lululemon’s total domination of my world made me decide I would never wear Lululemon anything.
Then, I started to notice that sometimes Lululemon fans weren’t nice. They cut me in line when I was trying to get my eggs. Their kids were the ones running around the pool like lunatics. A zippy BMW would take my parking place and, sure enough!, the owner would be wearing head-to-toe Lululemon. In truth, it’s all anyone wears, but I started noticing it more when I was annoyed by someone.
With my small, black heart, I stared to think, “Who ARE these women who waste so much money on yoga pants when there are children with no clothes?!”
The equation in my mind was something like this Lululemon wearer = selfish and materialistic.
But I was conflicted because all the stuff is pretty cute. This is really the story of my life. I want to take the moral high road, but I do appreciate a good fit in an array of colors.
Then a couple weeks ago, my life kind of crumbled. It was one of those seasons when we were all too busy and too exhausted and too frail. I felt lonely and spent and often found myself crying for no reason. At a weak moment, I was walking past the Lululemon store and noticed it was quiet inside. “Why not just see what it’s all about?” I thought.
Ten minutes later I was in a dressing room with a wayyyy overpriced running skirt, chatting over the door with my best friend, Kira, who was so young and adorable and helpful. Within minutes she helped me figure out I have been wearing the total wrong size, and which tops would fit my four-baby tummy, and the best colors for me.
You guessed it, now, I guess, I’m a woman who wears Lululemon. Just like 1987, when I finally went to The Limited and saw for myself how many cute colors the Outback Reds came in, I caved to a trend again.
Before you judge, let me just say that  I will not be driving a BMW, I will never cut you in line, and my kids had better never run around like lunatics at the pool.
If they do, it’s not their fault…their mom wears Lululemon.
(P.S. I’m also donating the same amount of money to kids who need it. Just in case you thought the Lululemon would make me selfish.).