You've always wanted to know how the other half
lives yogas. This is my city. My lifeblood. My 'hood. And this, this is how we California roll . . .
1. Today is Kirtan?!?!?!
2. Chanel bag, perfect highlights, just hopped out the Ferrari. Front desk says class rates went up:
3. Real yoga housewives stop during Sun Salutations to dissect the class' performance (*occurs only in Beverly Hills, Brentwood, or Santa Monica above Wilshire):
4. Real estate broker / "actor" / "producer" / douchebag plunks his mat down next to you. Again. His usual (how does this not work?!) line:
5. Your mat's not Manduka?!
6. Uhmmm, Savasana?
7. After-class vegan snack at Cafe Gratitude or Rawvolution:
8. When we take yoga classes in other cities, states, countries:
I encourage you to laugh along heartily. But know this, if you aren't from LA, I better not catch you talkin' shit about my citayyy. You have to be from here for that honor.
La La Land, Represent!
check out Namastilo — my new yoga style/lifestyle/diy/fashion site — and the bangin' series: