Is It Just The Yoga Pant?


I would say it’s not very often that I read a news article and scratch my head as to its worth, but I’d be lying. It happens quite regularly, and my usual response is, “That made news?”

Which is exactly what I said when I found out that yoga pants were the controversial subject of the week.

I know, right?

In case anyone else has been picking their noses, reading real news–or talking about how the United States will eventually become one, large, governmental program–I’ll catch you up to speed. You’re welcome, by the way, because I’m awesome enough to help you in learning why yoga pants are such a debatable subject. Apparently, a fellow mom blogger decided that she’s no longer going to wear yoga pants, because it might make other men stray from their wives, by looking at her in her yoga pants. It’s made headline news, she’s been interviewed by Good Morning America, and I’m not the only blogger forming a response.

But, as usual, I had to sit back and deliberate, in order to figure out which direction, and what response, I would form. Why am I writing a response? Why do I feel like I need to respond? Because, if you read my blog, I’ve already remarked on yoga pants when I said “It’s a Dress Code, Not War on Women.” In that post, I responded to a woman who couldn’t understand why her former high school would ban yoga pants from being worn. I remarked that we dress for the positions we hold in life, and that school is meant for education, not for fashion.

BTW, yoga pants are not fashionable, and that’s still my official position.

Not to mention, after reading Veronica’s post, ABC’s response, Huffington Post’s response, and The Blaze’s response, I finally stumbled across an eye-popping response from Matt Walsh. Now, normally I like Matt Walsh, but this post ruffled my feathers. His “official” stance is that yoga pants are immodest, and the only reason women wear yoga pants is so that men can stare at their butts.

Wait, what?



So, of course I was going to pick up my computer, and spew forth my opinion on yoga pants. Especially after reading all ends of the spectrum on yoga pants this week. Views went from women stating, “I have a right to not have a man look at my butt when I wear yoga pants” to men remarking, “The only reason yoga pants were designed was so that a man could look at your butt.”

I mean, my goodness! Where does it end?

The premise of the mom blogger was sweet. She’s trying to do her husband a service by not walking out of the house in what she deems provocative clothing. For her husband, she won’t wear spandex pants any longer, in order to keep other men from staring at her in a lustful way. Because of that, their eyes will remain focused on the path ahead, never straying her way.

So, I really hate to say this, but her premise is flawed. Has anyone looked at her picture? There’s not a man on the planet who wouldn’t give her a double-take, and then turn around, again. So, what will she do to keep that from occurring? Will she stop styling her hair? Will she stop wearing makeup? Will she stop wearing lipstick? Will she stop wearing push up bras? Will she hide her painted toes? Will she stop wearing a bathing suit to the beach? Will she stop wearing shorts? Will she stop wearing shirts with “spaghetti straps?”

Will she refuse to don anything that might be deemed by any male on the planet to be provocative?

Might as well walk out of the house in a burlap sack, and call it a day.

Oh, wait. Marilyn Monroe did that once.


Dang, people. Now that’s a bit of provocation, eh?

So, again, what else will this mom blogger do, in order to keep men from staring at her in a lustful manner? How can she stop any man from keeping his “eyes” on the straight and narrow? She can’t. She’ll never be able to do that, even after refusing to wear yoga pants outside of the home.

I guess I should move this post in a personal direction, in order to explain why I’m not an immodest woman–as Matt Walsh suggested–shaking my butt in front of men, begging for them to stare at me while I walk past in my yoga pants. Seeing as I generally like to talk about my life with my tiny tot, and not frivolous subjects such as spandex leggings–because I’m entirely egocentric–at some point I was bound to turn this post back on myself. I’ve said before, in other posts (My Super Hero Wears Nail Polish comes to mind), that I rarely get dolled up. My normal attire comes in the form of scrubs. I wake up, throw on my scrubs, and go to work. If I’m not working, I throw on (gasp!) yoga pants.

And then I go to the gym.

So, there. I’ve announced to the world, Veronica the mom blogger, and Matt Walsh, that I’m tempting other men and begging them to stare at my butt.

Wait, what?

No, no I’m not. That is not the reason I don spandex, and it will never be the reason I walk out of my house, and walk into the gym, in them.

I wear yoga pants because I hate wearing shorts. I think shorts expose too much of my leg, because I’m an Amazon woman, and if I bend over in shorts to adjust gym equipment, it feels like my butt–the same one that is fully covered in yoga pants–is falling out. I feel immodest in shorts. I tug on them, adjust them, yank them down, and perform complicated acrobatic feats to keep my rear covered in shorts.

Yes, females who think yoga pants make their men’s eyes stray, I wear yoga pants to keep men from staring at my actual, naked butt. You’re welcome, by the way; my butt is awesome.

Haha, I just said my butt is awesome in a post. I’m now crossing that off my Bucket List.

Thank you, Veronica.

See? If she’d never posted about yoga pants, and the world hadn’t gone ape-crazy over yoga pants, I could have never written that line in a response blog about yoga pants.

Life’s funny that way.


Here I am, out in the world, swinging my child in 100 degree heat, wearing shorts that expose more than they cover. For the time, for the place, and for the event, my attire was appropriate. No butts were lusted after that day. Guys don’t tend to stare at my butt, anyway, since my chest is so voluptuous.

Wait, did you actually look for my chest? Tell me when you find it; I’ve been looking for it for thirty-plus years.


Here I’m at the gym, getting my workout on, not exposing anything but my rockin’ arms. And, apparently, my hair has an alternate ego.

Sorry, no pic of me in a burlap sac, but I’m pretty sure I’d be as highly-sought after as Marilyn. Because, well, we’re women. Women could walk out in public with no makeup, hair in a bun, and sweat pants, … and some man will find her attractive, and his eyes will stray from their straight, narrow course.

Again, where does it end? What’s the next taboo, sinful item?

Because, when it happens people, expect a response from this overly opinionated chick.

No comments posted on January 23, 2015 in Opinions, Winging It, Mom Style

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