Today in my teenage angst, I marvel at the phenomenon of lycra. Most wouldn't consider it a phenomenon, but looking at it from this book's perspective, I certainly do. These pictures are courtesy of a Yoga book at the library. I found it, squealed and couldn't not leave with it.
I'd just like us all to consider the life implications of owning this much lycra. Furthermore, the implications of owning that many matching leggings and belts.
1 comment:
there's a dancewear retailer somewhere who is, to this day, living off the unwitting income of that photo shoot's wardrobe
(see also: remember when one's athletic prowess could be measured in the length of a crotch?)
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