For years I struggled to make myself a “fit person.” You know the kind—the ones who just have to get a jog in even when they’re on a boat; who hop in the shower and scrub the sweat off their glistening body, well-earned from an afternoon picking up weights and throwing them around; the kind who says they “love the outdoors...hiking, biking, carabeenering...wutever.”
But I couldn’t make it stick. Every time I’d hoist myself onto an ab cruncher or a neck elongator, I’d be instantly more bored than I’d ever been in my life. This, I knew because I’m smart, just wasn’t going to work long term. I quaked in bed nightly, wondering how anyone could subject themselves to such misery.
But then, in late 2016, I was exposed to the “wellness” trend, and with it, the premium fitness studio: an omnipresent, financially inaccessible haven on nearly every commercial block in Manhattan. In the premium fitness studio, which you may enter and loiter about if you pay anywhere from $29 to $40 per class, it’s easy to free yourself from the shackles of everyday nuisances (the nuisances of the not-wealthy) and imagine you come from a slightly removed branch of an aristocracy—so removed that you’re allowed to live in New York and have a modern life, free from the obligations of representing the Family. And, of course, to do these classes you really should be rich, since you paid $40 to do something you could probably pseudo-recreate in your living room for free.
I’ve become addicted. To the have luxury bathroom products that I could never buy on my own! To the complimentary bobby pins and hair ties! To the gorgeous clientele with well-defined shoulder muscles and 8-karat engagement rings that somehow don’t interfere with their weight-pumping! To the smell of shits from people who have literally never eaten a Whopper Jr. while wearing a parka in the front seat of their car!
Premium fitness allows us (me) to live a lie for two-to-three hours a week. But lies are hard to keep up if you don’t have the corroborating materials. So, for me, for you, for the friend who likes seeming above her status, here are some gift ideas.
Name Activewear Matte Black Satchel
I use your standard “garbage novelty tote” to carry my gear to and from my filthy home, and, while it looks inoffensive, it’s completely impractical. My wallet and keys are constantly lost; one sneaker is always falling out of the bag, while the other has tangled itself with my bra and pants, making all three of them inaccessible and causing an embarrassing spill in front of my Wilhemina model classmates. Wouldn’t this chic bag that seems to hold all of your necessary items while also appropriate enough to take to a fine dining establishment without the maitre d’ pewing his nose at you be so much better than that?
Adizero Adios Shoes
I had a pair of these sneakers from Stella McCartney’s Adidas collection which I believe are for marathons for regular circuit training and they were the best sneakers I ever used. They’re super lightweight and I always got compliments on their Fun color. I want them again, and maybe your friend would too.
Soma Water Bottle
What is more Rich Girl than drinking your water from hard-to-dishwash Fashion Glass???
ClassPass Gift Card
I love ClassPass because it gives me (an adult with attention deficit disorder) the ability to try a bunch of things I would never try, but also because it lets me go to some very shmancy studios for a fraction of the cost. This is not a ClassPass ad, I promise!
Laain Sports Bra and Leggings
You aren’t a premium fitness enthusiast until you have a matching sports bra-spandex set (one with a bold pattern so you know you bought them together), ideally from haute athleisure retailer Bandier. This seems like a good set.
Supergoop! Barre to Bar Beauty Set
It’s important to protect your things. In this case, that means your face, under-eye area, lips, cheeks, ear lobes. A great way to do that after barre class (or any class—use your imagination!) is with this pack of four sunscreen and vitamin-related beauty products.
Sakara Chocolate Probiotics
These probiotics are sold by Sakara, the vegan meal service beloved by models and the fatigued rich alike, so you know they’re the good shit. The price tag ($30!!!) also promises that they will probably work. I have a real problem taking pills, but love chocolate, so these are great for me. I bought them once and shat like a champion trust fund recipient for the month they lasted. I’m in the process of saving up for my next jar (and I will not shit until that happens, so please, someone, Venmo me $30).