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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In fact, it seems that Nardini’s New York Fierce Club (yoga studio) offers a version of Seattle-based Kimberlee Jensen Stedl’s punk stuff. (Offered by Brian Williams  though his bio isn’t explicit about it.)

Created in 2003 (yikes! how did we miss it?) Punk Rock Yoga is offered once a week for the rest of the summer at 20/20 Cycles in Seattle (as well as locations in Boston, Las Vegas, Missoula, Toronto, and —wait for it—Weisbaden, Germany).

PRY is designed to liberate yoga from the rigid, elitist, body-slimming aerobics-wannabe exercise routine it has become—says creator Kimberlee Jensen Stedl (see her earnest, but somewhat rambling mission statement).

She covers a lot of territory without giving much idea of what happens in a Punk Rock Yoga class (we’re *dying* to know!). It has live music (sometimes), a community vibe, and—almost totally against the spirit of punk—a rock’n'roll sensibility.

(By the way, anyone read Iggy Pop’s brilliant put-down of rock’n'roll this week in NYMagazine? So good.

NYM: Have you grown weary of rock and roll?
Not necessarily, but I’m really irritated.

NYM: How come?
I think it’s now officially the world’s worst form of music. Even a mid-level cumbia band in Venezuela sounds better than the biggest-selling rock bands.)

Even more sadly, there are no pictures.

So, plucking again from the mission statement: Stedl explains, “For several months while taking both yoga and belly dance classes, I noticed that I would leave the belly dance classes feeling joyful and connected with the other participants, while I would leave the yoga classes feeling cold and isolated. I sensed this was due to the complete detachment from everyone else in the room that occurs in most yoga classes. What I needed was a more balanced approach, whereby at least a portion of the class was dedicated to connecting with others.”

(That’s why everyone has dyed blue hair that stands, glued-up straight in perfect Mohawks?)

“These observations drove me to incorporate community-building aspects into Punk Rock Yoga classes, such as adding partner poses into each class and incorporating more group activities into our classes.”

“The more I taught and the more I immersed myself in the professional yoga community, the more I carved out a mission for Punk Rock Yoga: I want to scrub the elitism and rigidity out of modern yoga.”

Okay—but it’s hard to imagine true punks being inclusive, flexible socialists. Unless I’m really, totally getting it wrong. (What does punk mean these days to Seattle-ites?)

Whatever it means, I would really like to see gloved hands (YogaToes–“yoga grip hand gloves”?), blue Mohawks, old Doc Martins, and safety pin earrings and nose rings moving through sun salutations. That surely would be a yoga democracy.

Or, would it be anarchy?

Related Posts:

Bon Jovi Yogi, January 2009

Fierce Club Opens in Nolita, March 2009

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