April 22, 2010

Fuck Yoga.

The only tee shirt that describes my love for yoga perfectly:

Yoga kicks my ass. I avoid it. When I finally go my mind races and wonders what time it is and I hate it through and through. I thank god when it’s over.

This company is old news but still brilliant. I wish the tees were USA-made, organic. I wish they’d design organic cotton sheets emblazoned with fuck yoga on ’em. If they designed a cooler with fuck yoga on it, I’d want it. What says a day well spent avoiding yoga better than a fuck yoga cooler? If they designed a water bottle I could tote, reluctantly but proudly, to yoga class, I’d want one.

It started as a joke. My ex-wife was extremely passionate about her yoga practice. As a gag for her birthday I made each of us a fuck yoga t-shirt. She refused to wear hers. I wore mine for thirty-nine straight days and was stopped everywhere I went. A write up in The New York Observer and a photo in GQ Magazine got it rolling. An appearance on Sex and the City made it interesting. The first on-line sale came from two brothers in Bogotá, Colombia and the second from a cheerleader in Grand Island, Nebraska. Since then we’ve filled in a lot of the map. Jackie Gleason didn’t do yoga, either did Jackie Robinson, Eleanor Roosevelt or any Pope ever.

Yoga has survived for thousands of years and will survive for thousands more. It’s just that it has gone unopposed for too damn long. Barnaby Harris
Founder fuck yoga

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