We Tried It: Naked Yoga
I arrived early to my first naked yoga class, so I could scope out the studio — pristine, spacious and dimly lit — and chat with Werner. By “chat” I mean that she said words like “awareness” and “energy” while I imagined doing tree pose, butt exposed, then falling forward, boobs first, as a mob of laughing naked people — all prettier and more toned than me, all without irregular left arm moles and knees that resemble smiling baby faces — slowly surround me until I can’t breathe. (I have very specific insecurities).
“All day long you put on masks and pretend to be X, Y, Z. And here, you’re supposed to take your masks off and show who you really are, with no judgments, and love who you are,” she said, explaining the benefits of practicing yoga without clothes. “And in that way, the connections you make with your classmates are so much easier. Because we’re all the same. You go into yoga class and you compare — maybe she has a cute tank top, or she has Lululemon yoga pants. People are more open-minded. The energy is more supportive, less judgmental.”
“But once you’re naked and you’re in on your mat — nobody’s looking, nobody’s judging, nobody cares,” she said. “I would say 99 percent of people forget eventually that they’re naked, and they’re totally cool with it. I think in those two years I had only one person who was like, ‘I could not forget that I was naked.’ We don’t have anyone gawking.”
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