Gym wardrobe

To meet my fat girl needs, I joined Lifetime Fitness. As far as gyms in Chicago go, it’s probably one of the more luxurious ones in the suburbs but not as swanky as, say, Equinox in the city or East Bank Club (where Oprah and Obama work on their fitness). I’m describing its stature only because I feel at $60+ a month, a member should be able to afford a decent workout wardrobe.

Yet time after time I’m amazed at what people wear when they exercise. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a beauty queen at the gym. I can typically be found in a Gap tank top, sports bra and either cotton capris or shorts. I’ll slap on some mascara and lip gloss just to avoid frightened looks but I by no means dress it up to sweat it out.

What I can’t understand are people who wear jeans or khakis to work out. This is a specific problem among older men. And I don’t understand how it’s comfortable. If you can afford the membership to Lifetime, you can afford to go to at least Walmart and buy some T-shirts and sweatpants to exercise in.

I’ve seen a certain guy I went to high school with tearin’ it up the stairmaster in a sweatshirt hoodie, ripped basketball shorts and dirty gym shoes. He looks like a Garbage Pail Kid. I saw a girl wear what I think were actual pajama jeans. They had a denim quality to them and the appearance of pockets. Yet they were jersey material. A deception to the eye if I ever saw one.

I saw a girl last week whose shirt looked like Boof’s from “Teen Wolf” after she came out of the smooching closet with Scott — randomly ripped up the back. 

My favorite story involves a guy around my age who was giving me the goo goo eyes while I was on the stairmaster. He was cute so I gave him some eyes back. Until I noticed his shirt, which was from Uncle Pauly's strip club in Glen Ellyn and had this on the back:

I withdrew my goo goo eyes right quick.