snow day sweat


Talk to anyone living in New England right now and I guarantee they will air some sort of grievance regarding the blizzard-a-weekend stint Mother Nature has been pulling for the past month.  Records are being broken this winter, and all the parking bans and icy roads have made for a disturbing amount of time spent locked up in my apartment Netflix binging on the couch doing highly productive, culturally enriching activities like vacuuming and reading.  Intellectual and sanitational enlightenment aside, Juno & Gang have made the short trip to my gym rather inconvenient, hindering my recently launched cross training regime like that tall guy with the big head who always ends up sitting directly in front of you at the theater.  But!  Today I decided not to let the snow interfere, by conducting my own little at home work out (#goals).  Sure, I wanted to burn some calories and show that snowfall who’s boss, but the real motivation to sweat came from my snazzy new K-DEER Haute Yoga shorts, aptly named “the bum bums”.  Cheeky?  Why, yes, yes they are…


If you’re a yogi and an instagram user, you may have heard of K-DEER’s wildly popular feed that has earned the brand its cult following.  Famous for their vibrantly graphic prints and luxe fabrics, K-DEER boasts a host of celebrity fans including Naomi Campbell, Brooke Burke, and even NYCB principal Sara Mearns.  But the brand had quite a humble beginning;  The designer, Kristine Deer, who’s responsible for the line’s infamously funky patterned leggings, shorts, and tops, launched her company almost by accident.  Fueled by the frustration of her own ill-fitting yoga gear, Deer decided to sew up a few pairs of shorts (bum bums) to sell on her etsy shop.  The response was overwhelming and her stock quickly drained, prompting Ms. Deer to sew and sell over 800 pairs of the inaugural shorts from her childhood bedroom.  From there, with some slightly more time and cost effective manufacturing techniques and the help of social media-famous yogi friend, Laura Kasperzak, Deer’s designs have cultivated a massive fan club.


Inspired by this photo, I decided to follow in Miss Mearns’ footsteps (bumprints?) and check out the cheeky little bum bums in Black Tie Affair.  As soon as I opened the package, the teensy shorts slipped out into my hands and I was actually surprised by just how thin they were.  These seem like they might be silkiest things to ever hug my hips, were my exact thoughts in that moment.  In the middle of my living room, I slipped them on and my premonitions turned out to be absolutely true; these are the smoothest, most comfortable booty shorts ever.  Seriously.  I know this sounds cliché, but the elastic and seam-free nature of the bum bums (and the entire K-DEER collection, for that matter) makes it feel like you aren’t wearing anything at all, which I consider to be an incredibly attractive attribute in a pair of shorts, personally.  I mean, am I the only lady who has trouble holding 3-legged dog with a contentious seam creeping up into places it doesn’t belong?  I didn’t think so!  The au natural feel and fit of the bum bums is probably my favorite feature (yoga and nap appropriate, 3 cheers for multitasking), but this special eco-friendly fabric continues to deliver, with the claim of remaining pill-free and vivid through all kinds of conditions- sweat, sun, chlorine, saltwater- you name it, they endure it, and they do it in style.  As you may remember from my Modern Classic obsession, I am a big fan of ruching and bows, and these saucy little hot pants deliver both.  Much like the gwenythbrand tank I can’t seem to stop talking about, the K-EER bum bums exhibit a beautiful harmony of fashion and function, proving that when it comes to active wear, you don’t have to sacrifice style for sweat.



workout-tested, tea time-approved.

Shop the whole collection here.



Last night I took my second heated vinyasa yoga class since signing up for 10 of them last week (thanks, Groupon!), and I feel amazing.

Have any of you ever done hot yoga before?  Let me paint you a picture.

We’re in a small, clean studio, with a big multi-paned window on one side, opening the studio to the lively Thayer Street below.  Yogis contort on sweaty mats, the smell of incense in the air.  Bright, penetrating heat lamps reach down, tickling our bodies with the salty drops of sweat they gift us with.  With the gentle voice of our instructor captaining us through, our breaths begin to match up, raising our bellies up to the sky, and sinking them down past our spines and into our slippery mats.  The room gradually fills up with our air, until it seems every molecule floating around us has made the journey through at least one set of lungs.  As the practice progresses, the room melts together, becoming one mass of contracting and releasing muscle.  We work hard.  We feel good.

By the end of class, the lump of muscle and sweat crumbles into distinct bodies, laying flat and calm, surrendering to the silence of the room and the renewed energy in their palms.  Three tolls of a bell and my human mind reenters my body.  Class is over.  I am sweaty- and I mean dripping.

It feels so good.