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The problem with my yoga clothes is: I keep forgetting them.

On Tuesday I woke up ready to sweat, but due to poor planning and un-forseen dog walking time delays, I arrived at the 6:00 a.m. class only to find the door locked.  Luckily, I was able to get out of babysitting around 8:00 that night, leaving me plenty of time to get to the 8:45 class.  When I got there, however, I realized that all of my clothes for yoga were actually freshly laundered in a pile on my bed.  Not in my yoga bag.  Once again I had some luck because I was already wearing a pair of Lulus that I could french roll and make work, but what about a shirt?? With five minutes to Pranayama and only the long sleeve shirt I had on, I turned to Gary and Frani for some advice.  Borrow an old sweaty one from the lost and found, wear the long sleeve cozy cotton shirt I had, or buy one of the Onzie Bandeau tops.  Yikes.  I went for the purchase, thinking it would probably be ok.  The top is adorable and I’m sure I will wear it again for something, but I found myself self-conciously tugging it up after most of the standing postures.  Truth be told I’m not sure that I was actually about to have a wardrobe malfunction, but I figured that a class full of people was not the place to test the limits of my new garment.  To make matters worse, I hadn’t brought my contacts, forcing me into the front row, right below the podium – a terrible spot for a very tired and very poorly dressed yogini.

Today I was determined to go to my 4:30 class at Shoreline (does anything feel better than lying on my mat in that warm room after a long day of work?) but once again I seemed to have forgotten my clothes.  So I guess I’m headed to the 7:00 p.m. at the Capitol Hill studio – shorts and top are in my bag ready to go.  These outfit snafus are not something I wish to repeat, but after 20 days of yoga, I guess something’s got to give.  

Nakedly yours,

C

P.S: 2/3 of the way through!  Also – that photo is not me.  

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