Sunday, February 17, 2008

Form and Content

The time has come, the Walrus said, to talk of many things. Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages ... and the costumes women dare to wear in Berlin gyms. I think it's high time for a short report on the state of female athletic couture over here, if only to emphasize that I have nearly peed my pants after two recent encounters.

First of all, I'm in a women's gym. I'm not sure how that changes things, if indeed it does. Meaning, I can't tell if women in all women gyms are more or less lazy, sloppy, dirty or overdressed in a girls-only situation than they would otherwise be. I truthfully can't tell. But what I do know, is that two days ago I saw a women wearing what could have been the winning costume in an all-out, all-80s aerobics instructor contest. The following is a truthful account. I'm leaving the locker room and I see in front of me (from the back) a women with Dolly Parton blond hair. She's wearing true blue shiny racer tights to below the knee, overtop of which is a black, one-piece THONG swimsuit with and a tight floral undershirt beneath the swimsuit. Her hightops are white adidas, and straight out of the eighties. You'd have to get them on ebay. She's headed toward the treadmill. Truthfully, her behind wasn't embarrassing or flabby, but it was visible. I averted my eyes.

Today I met a women coming down the hall from the bathroom and almost choked. She had on patent leather white flats, a strapless, loose-fitting yellow, very fancy, top, and strange, sexless black jog pants.

I don't wanna give the wrong impression. For the most part, women in gyms are women in gyms. Just like in America, women in gyms walk around slowly and look at the equipment, wondering if it this machine or that machine might be interesting. They climb on one backwards, do a move or two or three with awkward, slow motions, then get off. They spend a lot of time checking each other out, and checking themselves out. All of this is comforting and familiar. Yesterday I got a lecture on my form from an overweight 50-year-old.

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