I think tonight’s topic is a valuable one. I hope, by the end, I’ve imparted some wisdom and we can all go about our lives knowing a little bit more about stupid shit.
Lately, as you may know, I’ve been finding myself at the gym. It scares me sometimes, all of a sudden realizing I’m in a place where people work on their bodies, try to be healthy, use machines, and drink water. Instead of beer. It’s like one of those deep sleeps you have, let’s say on a Friday afternoon and when you wake up you think it’s the next day and you’re not quite sure what’s going on or where you are or what time it is, and then it takes a while to realize that you’re in your apartment in Campinas and it’s still Friday night, and damnit, you have to wake up, put cute clothes on, go out dancing and probably drink too much. Finding myself at the gym is like one of those Friday afternoons when I’ve woken up and have had to look around to get my bearings. A gym? Whatthehell? How’d I get here?
(Are we seeing that I heart itallics tonight? Do you? Do you see?)
Anyway, you get the point. Gyms are like other planets.
And so, therefore, are gym pants. Work out pants. Like, the skin tight variety. And let me just say, for the record, I have never owned skin tight work out pants in my life until coming to Brazil. And now I own three pairs. Two are black, and one is a big, fat, sweaty, grey mistake with pink stripes up the side.
Here’s the wisdom I promised you in the beginning: If you are EVER going to work out–Nay! If you are ever going to MOVE–in skin tight pants, please make sure those skin tight pants are black. They must be the darkest of dark and preferably brand new, before even being thrown into your washing machine so it guarantees the black has not faded even the slightest shade. If you wear ANY other color (apparently I like CAPS as well) you’re in for a disaster of Titanic proportions.
And the disaster is: (and this might seem gross but I’m just tellin’ it like it is) crack sweat. Friends, grey skin tight pants show everything and each drop of sweat that comes off your body is gonna soak right through. And even if you think you’re all great running 6k and jammin’ to your Eye of the Tiger and your Moloko and your Shakira on your cute little red iPod, it is all in your head, baby, because you are one hot mess and it’s showing in every single place where you’ve got sweat. And you cannot even pretend it’s not showing down the crack of your butt. Because, let me tell you, it shows.
And so, keep that in mind when you step off your machine and parade your red-faced dripping body around to the front of the room, people are gonna be staring at you in your sweaty telltale grey pants and they’re probably going to cringe. And even though technically it is a gym, keep in mind that it is a gym in Brazil where people STAND on treadmills and talk on their cell phones rather than use them for any kind of exercise because ew, like, all that sweat is disgusting. Keep in mind, also, that you are very likely the only person with any kind of moisture other than perfume on your skin and that just might be the reason no one talks to you at the gym.
So that’s the news for the evening. File that under “Good To Know,” and I’ll see you next time.
This public service announcement brought to you by Gina Coggio, owner of one pair of grey skin tight workout pants that will now be relegated to the “Sunday Morning Around the House Attire / Do Not Wear In Public” drawer.