Guest post by Harriet
I have never been a sporty person. Thus, I do not possess sporty clothing. However, when I decided a few months ago that I really ought to do some exercise and it should be a) not in my house, where there is clutter and a myriad of exercise-preventing distractions, and b) with a sensible person telling my how to do it so I wouldn’t injure myself, I found myself in the previously-unthinkable situation of setting off to go to an exercise class at the gym.
I had absolutely never been near a gym before. I had only the faintest clue what people were supposed to wear in them. I thought that to be on the safe side I would wear:
- A small black t shirt
- Trainers
- Some velour flared trousers which I mainly use for slobbing around the house, and which kind of looked like pyjamas, but might just pass for jogging bottoms if people didn’t look too closely.
The problem was, it was cold. I needed some kind of extra layer to wear on the way to keep me warm, which said “I Am Going To The Gym, Not Walking Through Town in my Pyjamas”. The only thing I could find (not being, as I said, a sporty person) was a button up knitted cardigan in sage green, from the “sportswear” section of Mango. I have long suspected the “sportswear” section of Mango is actually referring to the pleasant and therapeutic “sport” that is more popularly described as “slobbing around the house”. Putting on the cardigan confirmed this. Not only did I look as if was quite definitely about to go to bed, but I also looked roughly twelve years old.
There wasn’t exactly time to go shopping and buy more gym-appropriate garments before the gym class started. I was running late as it was. So I just decided to go through the middle of town very fast, hoping I didn’t see anybody I knew, and hopefully I’d warm up and be able to take off the cardigan by the time I got to the gym, and then the gym people wouldn’t look at me too strangely. I didn’t even know whether I was going to like the gym, even, so there was no point buying clothes for it beforeI’d tried it out. So I set off.
In the middle of town, of course, I immediately saw a man on whom I have an enormous crush. Typical. Of all the people I know in the world, it had to be him. He passed me in the street, talking on his mobile phone, which made it even worse. Not only had he fully acknowledged my apparently-pyjama-clad presence, but I was also unable to explain the going to the gym / no proper gym-clothes as yet scenario. Or possibly, he saw me from a distance, decided I looked completely bonkers and that he was going to pretend to be on the phone so he didn’t have to talk to me.
And so paranoia set in. Proper, appropriate gym clothes must be obtained. I will keep you informed.
