There is quite a large fence in the work-out-wear world and there is no straddling of that fence. You sit distinctly on either side. One side belongs to those that feel make-up is essential: full-on face paint is accompanied by long flowing locks, skin-tight gym gear…as revealing as possible. Undoubtedly the tops are aero-dynamic and the cropped leggings absorb sweat and aid performance. That is not my side. I pole vaulted myself right over to the other team. We wear vintage school t-shirts (vintage because you last possessed them playing badminton at 14), tatty, baggy O’Neills and whatever hoody you happen to find, even if it’s your dads. Mismatched socks and sweaty, naked faces finish off the look. Bonus points if you happen across a pair of Nike rip-off tracksuit bottoms. But I think I do the same job as the gleaming lyrca brigade. I’m just not going to attract the hot gym guy.

Lycra Queen?

Lycra Queen?

Bag Lady Gym Chic?

Bag Lady Gym Chic?

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