Buying Cute Workout Clothing Is Overrated

I'm not a pilates princess, I'm a pilates goblin.

I recently joined a gaggle of impeccably dressed women adorned in bows for Melbourne’s launch of the Sandy Liang x Salomon collection. There were lines down the street in the bitter cold to buy these shoes while those just there for the booze (me) went straight in. I mean, cute, but surely at $160 a pop you may as well thread ribbons through your existing sneakers.

Are they even practical? The Mary Jane styles are said to “withstand long walks in the city or explorations in the countryside” but I’d be nervous just wearing them to the shops.

@sandyliang

Anyway, it got me thinking about activewear in general and what a waste of money it is to buy cute stuff to get gross and sweaty in. Social media has us constantly dressing for the camera, while fitness influencers have sold us this false idea that a perfectly curated lifestyle is the epitome of health and well-being. January is inundated with activewear promotions screaming the gross catchphrase “New Year, New You,” as brands try and squeeze you for your hard-earned cash by telling you that you’re not good enough.

For a hot second, I tried to buy into it all. I thought I could be THAT girl. Wake up at the crack of dawn, exercise, meditate and journal all while looking flawless before going to work and actually being productive. And much like using lockdown to nail the perfect skincare routine by buying things I didn’t need and didn’t work, I gave my exercise gear an overhaul.

At the time, PANGAIA had newly released activewear. It’s a brand that does really cool stuff with material innovations, so I splurged on leggings and a sports bra made from nylon sourced from castor beans (instead of fossil fuels) and treated with plant-based moisture-absorbing technology and peppermint oil. I felt good and ready to tackle lockdown brain demons with online yoga.

PANGAIA

Several friends have credited a cute gym fit with feeling motivated to work out and this is perfectly valid. Enclothed Cognition describes how we feel and act in certain attire, with research linking how we dress to confidence and performance (read the amazing Shakaila Forbes-Bell on Fashion Psychology).

Plus, when we consider buying something new, our brain anticipates treaties and along comes the dopamine rush - the shoppers high. Our mood is improved and fresh workout gear makes us feel positive about exercising. However, like all highs, we eventually crash and come down.

In my case, new leggings certainly weren’t going to make me THAT girl or fix my depression worsened by being stuck indoors during a global pandemic. I have still never journaled.

Girlfriend Collective

As not all brands take PANGAIA’s approach to materials, activewear can be pretty crap for the environment. To make products withstand movement and moisture, they’re primarily made of petroleum-based materials, e.g., polyester, acrylic, nylon, and spandex, that contribute to greenhouse gas emissions and shed microplastics into waterways when washed. And don’t be fooled by greenwashy labels like “recycled polyester,” which is abundant in this category.

Despite the levels of overproduction and textile waste, most recycled polyester comes from polyethylene terephthalate (PET) bottles, not recycled garments. These material alternatives also contribute to microplastic pollution and can’t be recycled at scale when they’ve reached the end of their lifespan, further adding to landfills.

Speaking of activewear's lifespan, it's essentially disposable because it's so hard-wearing. Have you owned anything where the elastic hasn't eventually given out or the fabric gone pilly or see-through? This happened with my PANGAIA set. I'd say less than six months in, and a small hole tore right at the bum, making this Instagram post fake news.

But what am I supposed to do, just throw them away? In this economy? After the money I spent and my aversion to shopping for clothes just to exercise in, they'll be a Pilates staple until they're entirely crotchless. Buying new workout gear every time you need an endorphins hit when the products aren't built to last can be a very expensive habit, especially on top of rising gym membership fees.

Plug - Earth Month Is Bad And Fashion Should Feel Bad for more sustainability ramblings. This post is good and doesn’t get enough love.

Unsplash

You may have seen run clubs are a big thing now. According to one of my favorite sites, Death To Stock, we are in the Sport Social Era. Their research has shown that tight-knit fitness communities are booming as we yearn for social connection amid a loneliness epidemic.

While this may be the case for some people, I empathize with the memes below that DTS shared as some of the feedback from their report. I do group classes only because I can’t afford my own reformer bed and PT. My competitiveness and habit of comparing myself to literally anyone around me, which in an exercise setting could be for better or for worse, does not a good workout session make. And a running club sounds like my personal idea of hell.

I also wonder, given our tendency to document and share every aspect of our lives, whether social sports could add to the pressure of appearing presentable and camera-ready to exercise, further fuelling impulse purchasing behavior and a distorted sense of self.

Then there is also the growing trend of wearing makeup to the gym. No seriously, if you go on TikTok, you’ll find 29.8 million posts with #gymmakeup. Though, as DTS stated in their research, the idea of health is evolving to include mental well-being, especially for Gen Z.

So, hopefully, the unrealistic, staged and perfectly finessed fitness content we’re so used to being spewed in our faces can be replaced with something more authentic. A source told me they have friends on Ozempic who just post mirror selfies at the gym without working out, so I’m not too optimistic, but that’s a story for another time.

Death To Stock

My personal take on the aesthetics of sportswear and athleisure is it's hard for me to find it fashionable unless, of course, you’re the Mongolian Olympics team. You can dress it up with all the ribbons you want, hi Blokette, its just not cool. Having the right gear for different sports may be essential, but it’s often so ugly. After reminiscing about my time playing mermaids in Türkiye, I started swimming at my local Aquatic center. This proved challenging as in my ranking of attractiveness for sports gear, legit swimwear is one of the worst (pole dancing is the best - heels and underwear, say no more).

With swimming, you got chlorine seeping into your hair so I have to wear the stupid cap. Goggle marks to pronounce my already sunken under eyes. A bandage-like one piece that I’m yet to purchase because I haven’t found the perfect red Baywatch suit that is public pool and lap swimming appropriate. Again, I don’t like spending money and donating wardrobe space to items for exercise, so I’ve made do with whatever bikinis don’t have mold on them (IYKYK).

Team Mongolia

I’m fully embracing looking like shit when working out because the majority of the time I don’t want to be doing it. An Alo Yoga set isn’t going to change that. Years of competitive gymnastics have drilled into me that I need to stretch and move my body most days so exercise is more of a compulsion than an activity for enjoyment.

I’ve just been whittling down ClassPass to find the most tolerable things to do. Pole dancing is my jam, though I am too chronically exhausted for it, so a combo of swimming, yoga, and reformer pilates is what I can manage these days.

Everyone should wear whatever they feel comfortable in for exercise. But for me, there is something so fulfilling about turning up to a class looking gross, working hard, getting even grosser and then basking in the Everything Shower that follows. Thus, completes the transformation from Pilates goblin to, well…haute garbage.