Before we get into today's topic, we wanted to share what we've been up to this weekend. For two of the laziest people you know, we sure have been participating in a lot of athletic activities requiring us to be up before 6 am. Which is ridiculous. On Friday, we rode the 5 am train into New York City to celebrate the summer solstice by participating in Athleta's Mind Over Madness Yoga, which was a yoga session in the middle of Times Square. Literally. In the middle. This is a video clip of the morning session we attended, which was taught by Drisana Carey (you may have seen her on a bunch of Athleta catalogues). This is us waiting for the session to start.
*We failed to drink any water prior to the session, during session, following session, or any time after that when we passed out for 4 hours in the sun because we were so tired.
*Lisa finally saw Serena's "yoga frenemy" in person, live and in action. This was her reaction:
*After departing Times Square, we chose to not read the schedule back to Long Island very carefully and got onto the express train that only went to 3 stops...NOT including ours, so we had to pay $16 for a taxi to drive us two train stops. Which is bullshit. The cabbies in New York City are more generous than the ones on the Island.
We had also signed up to do sunset yoga on the beach in a very uppity town on the north shore of Long Island (town shall remain anonymous) to close out the solstice (we were obviously brazen and over-confident in our athletic ability). Having slept 4 hours in the sun without drinking any water, the drive out to the evening yoga session was miserable. We continued pounding water to no avail. The damage had been done. Our heads were throbbing and fuzzy. The sun hurt our eyes despite sunglasses. Yet, we refused to quit. We registered for this class and we were determined to finish what we started. We pulled into the parking lot of this posh yacht club on the water, only to be directed to the street for parking. The waiter inside made us walk AROUND the club to the deck (not the beach as advertised) for the yoga session rather than walk THROUGH (which would've been more direct). Probably because we weren't wearing enough Lululemon. As we walked through the yard (side bar: let us tell you what we WERE wearing so that you know we weren't dressed like hoodlums. Lisa wore a Lululemon sweatshirt and Athleta pants and Serena wore a yoga top and pants from JOIS, which is not a cheap clothing line by any stretch of the imagination. We were also both rocking designer sunglasses for heaven's sakes!!!), this RBF woman and her army of RBF skanks stood in their head to toe posh designer outfits sipping champagne and looked us up and down in disdain. Then Queen RBF snootily declared, "Aw, so cute. You're here for the yoga. Enjoy your time here." Like under normal circumstances, we never would've been allowed to cross their rich a-hole threshold. We made it as far as the area quarantined for the yogis before Serena muttered, "I can't. I can't do this. Look at these a-holes. I just...I can't." Lisa replied under her breath, "Want to pretend to go to the bathroom, but really just leave?" It took every ounce of our being not to sprint back to the car.
What, you might be asking, is RBF? Here is a photo that perfectly encompasses RBF.
Saturday, we basically spent in bed recovering from dehydration and sun over-exposure. It was awful.
Today, in heat that must be similar to what folks in Hades feel, we ran in the New York Giants Run for Champions 5K at MetLife Stadium. Despite the sun and heat (and the one unexpected dastardly hill at the end), we really enjoyed the run! The finish line crossed the end zone! Serena high-fived Amani Toomer (or as Serena's autocorrect liked to call him: Armani Too Met) at the start line. His hand basically swallowed her midget one whole. As you can see by the photo below, we spent a lot of time acting like children on the football field. Afterwards, we ate bananas and bagels and took a tour of the Giants' locker room (or as Lisa's autocorrect liked to call it: liquor room)
This post is a direct result of what we saw women running in today. Since the race was hosted by the New York Giants, obviously a ton of Giants fans/football fans came out to run. Many individuals wore team memorabilia (including jerseys, which baffled us because it was HOT out). We were surrounded on all sides by tacky football outfits, but to be honest, female football fans aren't the only repeat offenders. This is common at baseball games and ale houses nationwide. Hockey games seem to be less ridiculous, mostly because majority of the fans just stick to a team jersey, which brings us to a very important point: the MLB and NFL now offer replica team jerseys cut for women! This should solve all of your fashion problems. You cannot possibly f*ck this up unless you purchase your jersey in the color pink...or if it's sparkly.
Here's a list of common fashion statements we see at games and bars that drive us utterly bat sh*t crazy:
*Anything with shiny fabric, glitter, rhinestones, or sequins is TOTALLY unacceptable. If the face of your franchise doesn't wear sparkly sh*t, YOU do not wear sparkly sh*t. Basically 80-90% of the Victoria's Secret PINK line is not an option. Here are a FEW acceptable options offered by PINK: t-shirt, sweatshirt, tank top (watch it with this one because it appears that some teams, like the Brewers, use shiny fabric in this particular style). Unfortunately, every item has "PINK" on it, but it IS a brand, so we suppose that can't be helped. To be quite frank, you're better off picking a different brand. Majestic Athletic, '47 Brand, Nike, Antigua, and Cutter & Buck all have better alternatives than the ones we listed here. This...this is just terrible.
*Anything in the color pink. There is not a single professional sports team in this country that rocks the color pink in their uniforms, therefore neither should you. If your team colors are blue and orange, regardless of how you feel about those colors, you wear blue and/or orange. It's that simple.
*Cropped jerseys. WTF? Do you see Derek Jeter jogging around the field with his belly hanging out? No. And he probably has a nicer stomach than you do so cover it up!!! Plus, that half of a jersey probably cost you the same as a regular, full jersey so you're losing money in this scenario. Additionally, for every hot chick that wears a cropped jersey, there are 20 unattractive, physically out of shape women wearing cropped jerseys and we have to look at it. Do you see what we're saying?
*Backless tops. This is a sporting event, not a dance floor. It's that simple.
*Dresses & high heels. There's a fine line here. If you come straight from work, we get that it might not be convenient for you to stop home and change first, but we can tell off the bat who you Corporate America folks are. You're not dressed to go trolling for members of the opposite sex. Maxi dresses and similar clothing is also an acceptable alternative during hot weather games where you're uncomfortable wearing shorts, but wearing jeans will actually kill you. You know that dress and hot pair of spiked heels or platforms that you wore while partying in Atlantic City/Vegas? Totally not cool. You look desperate and you're probably not going to find the love of your life at a baseball game. They've all got girlfriends or are married...or both. We know. We've already checked into this.
*Clothes that don't seem to make any sense. There's nothing TECHNICALLY wrong with the outfit. You're wearing your team logo on a top that's in the correct colors, you're not dressed like a sl*t or a tacky Vegas show girl. Your top just doesn't make sense. For example, do you really need to spend $40-$50 on a peasant top that sports the tiniest of team logos near its hem when you could've gone to Old Navy and bought a plain peasant top in your team's color? This one is currently on clearance, but it was once close to $55. Are you kidding? Is that supposed to be funny?
*If you were smart enough to purchase an authentic team t-shirt, do not cut the collar and sleeves so severely that we can see The Girls' tops and sides. We're not sure what you're trying to do here, but every time you stand up to do the wave, we don't want to see your side boob. Or nipples.
*Don't wear your bikini to the game. We don't care if it shows team pride. We don't care if you're hot. You're basically asking to be sexually harassed and/or gang banged by a group of drunk testosterone-driven ape men...who've most likely got hairy backs.
*When you buy jeans with your team logo embroidered on your butt cheeks, you've taken your team loyalty too far.
The more we research and see photos of these dumb chicks at games, the more we wish that we'd been born dudes because we're so embarrassed on behalf of the female gender.
Ladies, when you dress like this, you feed into the stereotype that we know nothing about sports and that we just like watching the hot guys bend over in tight pants. It's totally okay to enjoy watching hot guys bend over in tight pants (let's face it, most guys probably watch the women's US soccer team because they're hoping another chick rips her jersey off), but it's also okay to understand what's happening on the field and what a batting average/ERA/OBP/K/BB/FC/IP/DP is. When you dress like an airhead sports fan, it makes it harder for girls like us who actually enjoy the sport to be taken seriously in a sport-related discussion with a dude. Nearly every guy who talks to us initially assumes that since we're Mets/Yankees fans that we must "love, love, love, love" David Wright/Derek Jeter and that we have zero concept as to what the starting rotation looks like for our teams. It's ANNOYING.