His take is that it’s all a bit culty. Not just out on the LuluLemon-covered streets (which is what New York Magazine’s juicy LuLuLemon article this past summer was talking about), but in the store itself.

LuluLemon works hard to create such boppy attitude in its educators, with personal growth coaching that sometimes includes a session at Landmark Forum.

This is not very “yoga,” but it is to be expected if you are to create a brand that appeals to the public on a global scale. Lululemon understands that we like our enlightenment to be results-oriented, self-esteem boosting and comfortable so that we can flop on the couch after doing our inner work and watch “Grey’s Anatomy.”

Hmm, true: how many of us like our enlightenment to be results-oriented? Many, I’d guess, though we’d never say, “Oh, checked in with Brahman, supreme cosmic spirit from Hindu Vendanta philosophy this morning, cross that off today’s to-do list.”

Aside from using the word relentlessly relentlessly (well, twice, gad zooks! “relentlessly sunny”, “relentlessly cheery”), he also does his bit to give the back story on Chip Wilson and review the clothes. He likes the selection of men’s clothes. He seems to practice yoga himself. He’s a fair reviewer, not beneath a bit of ribbing:

Some of the get-ups are insanely garish. Run Ultra pants have black and white swirly striped panels over purple fabric and look like something Patricia Heaton wears on one of her 14 sitcoms; cropped bottoms with green plaid fabric around the waist is fine if you want to look like a Scotch tape dispenser while you are in Uttanasana.

Any Lulu article must discuss the unusual materials in their clothes, and Albo obliges. And, like the NYMag writer, he takes a shot at the purpose of wearing those hot pants anyway (hint: it’s not all about “wicking away moisture”):

The materials, with names like Silverescent and Luon, are obsessed with wicking away sweat and therefore suit the typical yoga-goer’s secret mantra: I am willing to bow to an elephant-headed god, but I refuse to look skanky when I walk to my car after class because there might be a hot guy around.

It seems we can’t get enough of LuLu, even if we’re making fun of her: she’s an easy entree into yoga culture for, well, people who perhaps relate more to the lifestyle aspect of yoga than the, say, sutra-studying aspect. And she provides an opportunity to play in the entertaining contradictions in this yoga-saturated moment.

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We yoga folks seem utterly torn about LuLuLemon. As the yoga clothing company surges from being a cool, innovative business, to an annoyingly ubiquitous logo, yogis, studios, and even New York Magazine (see last week’s “Lust for Lulu” feature article) have been experiencing some queasy feelings.

When did yoga clothing become “active lifestyle wear for women”?

Up in arms for LuluLemon. (Photo: Summer Starling/Courtesy of Lululemon)

This week, A.K. Kennedy, founder of Hyde yoga clothes, reminds me that not long ago, well-made, comfortable yoga clothes were hard to find.

“I was that person who didn’t want to spend $70 on yoga clothes. So I bought them at Old Navy and was annoyed that they didn’t fit very well.”

“There was hippie dippie organic clothing, or Nike stuff, or if you did find something that worked, you couldn’t find it again.”

In early 2005, A.K. began designing and manufacturing yoga clothes part time (she had been designing rugs, and before that, working in the corporate world). Lulu wasn’t quite on the scene (in the U.S.) yet. By the end of 2005 she was full time and had 4 samples in organic cotton—2 tops, a pant and a pair of shorts.

Now Hyde has standing orders with 85 studios and employees three staff (including A.K.). They work out of a modest Lower East Side office.

Not the Lower East Side office. 

“We have a lot of fun and everyone does everything—we all went out to Wanderlust together. On photo shoots, my boyfriend is the photo assistant.”

On LuLuLemon, A.K. says at first studios were excited to carry clothes specifically designed for yogis and yoginis—and well-made, too. But as the company has grown bigger, there’s been some brand fatigue.

“Some studios tried retail for the first time because of LuLu. Now they want to try something different and maybe a little less expensive.”

“Hyde has such a different point of view. We’re less sporty and totally all organic except for a little bit of Spandex. We’re not quite active lifestyle wear. ”

Originally, A.K. wanted to offer much less expensive clothes. But the realities of running a small, quality business made that impossible.

“We could make cheaper pants but we would be sacrificing something to do that—we would have to sacrifice quality of materials and we just don’t want to.”

Hyde’s most expensive pant is $69. LuluLemon’s signature Groove Pant is $98.

“I want to be under $60 but we’re small so our minimums are not quite high enough to come down in price.”

“I used to pick up a cute, organic dress from a small company and think, ‘Why the hell is this $250?’ and I’d put it back. Now I know that company is paying rent, using unusual material, and probably paying a premium for not meeting factory’s minimums for small production run.”

“It’s changed the way I shop—before I would have put that dress down and bought something from a bigger company. Now I spend money on the smaller company and feel good about it.”

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They went public in summer 2007, did well out of the gate, survived a manufactoring scandal (no seaweed in those stress-reducing, anti-inflammatory, antibacterial, hydrating and detoxifying seaweed-containing clothes), and—in June this year—took a hit when their stock dropped. They publicly vowed to scale back their expansion.

Yet, they are still opening stores. Amazing.

Yesterday, July 16, they opened their first store in Park Slope, Brooklyn, (otherwise known as dyke and stroller land) 472 Bergen Street, between 5th and Flatbush. No deets or photos yet, (other than you can get a free class tomorrow, Saturday, July 18 from 10 -11).

But, you know, New Yorkers have to shop. Even Brooklynites. So expanding in New York is probably a safe bet.

A couple of months ago, they opened in Soho. Here’s picture of a spring Soho:

Before that, it was Union Square. They closed down their Flatiron storefront and opened officially in a more central-to-yoga location.

In January, staff moved store bits over to USWest. Chilly, chilly, chilly weather to carry maniquin busts around.

Here’s LuLuLemon on a TimesSquare billboard, fall 2008!! These guys are serious!!

photos from lululemon’s Flikr stream

Just one question:

What the hell is next?!!? (No, scratch that: when’s the sample sale?)(And how long should I save up before I go?)

Previous posts:

Yoga Clothes Go Starbucks

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When LLLMN set up shop in NY in 2006 (I wrote about it for TimeOutNY), I knew my time was running out. True to form, they quickly swept the city. As a Canuck, I’d already begun wearing their clothes in 2002, when no one here cared. (Vancouverites cared though; my friends called it attire for teeny-boppers. They couldn’t believe I wore it; they wouldn’t go near it themselves.)

But now it’s like I’m a freaking ad. It’s just not cool. (And you can’t black out that ubiquitous shiny silver logo, I’ve tried.)

Now, just to cement my fears, Forbes announces that Christine Day, former head of Starbucks’ Asia Pacific Group, is heading up LuluLemon as CEO, making the standardized latte culture–standardized yoga culture link ultra clear. Uh oh.

Forbes says, “Lululemon fits Day’s easygoing personality and seriousness of purpose. And, like the one-time coffee juggernaut, the yoga-centric clothing company focuses on cult-like customer loyalty; thorough, mandatory staff training on new products and customer service; and innovative marketing.”

Sigh. Innovative, yes, but just a bit too clubby.

Luckily at Easter brunch today I heard about Yoga Army, an LA-based yoga wear company. Only problem is, none of their dresses look like anything I could wear to class. Yoga Army is a “yoga look” for out on the town. “Yoga street,” as one of my brunch companions noted. (But how “street” is a red-silk, one-shoulder dress at $594? Or a fringed-leather vest for $200?)

Yoga Army was smart: it dispensed with the yoga.

Not so for the LA labels Beyond Yoga (at the mind-bending URL, www.iambeyond.com), OmGirl (includes a T with a charity bent), all mentioned in Los Angeles Magazine, March 2009, where lifestyle and yoga creepily creep together.

And once-small companies such as Blue Canoe and Hyde (Hyde has product endorsement from Deepak Chopra front and center on their home page) seem to aspire to similar ends as the now gigantic LLLMN—so does that make buying them just the same sin under a different label?

(And speaking of labels, the price-tags on all of these organic, single-source, almost edible threads are s-t-e-e-p—no cheaper that the Big Lemon’s.)

So, what’s a non-label-loving girl to do? Take refuge in American Apparel and call that anonymity? Wear Nike like a rebel?

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