As fancy as my gym is, I didn’t join for the scene. I joined because a) they had yoga and b) it’s around the corner from my apartment, so I knew I would actually use it once in awhile (that they have monthly DJ parties with free cocktails in the courtyard and a sauna are just bonuses). And since joining, I’ve carved out a nice little routine in which I go to a handful of different classes throughout the week, almost always first thing in the morning. If I don’t go first thing, I won’t make it at all.
But once in awhile, I go to the gym in the evening or on a weekend day, and the scene is both shocking and hilarious. Parisians don’t exactly have the reputation as being big gym rats, do they? But they sure have the posturing and fashion nailed. Only in a Parisian gym will you find…
• The instructors arrive to class a few minutes late, never out of breath or concerned about time.
• Members then saunter in 5-10 minutes later. Fashionably late.
• Everyone in the gym has their iPhones in hand and, when they take calls, they casually strut around, hand wildly gesticulating, hips thrusting. Real scene-stealing.
• The women have color-coordinated get-ups, go braless and trail rose perfume (okay, maybe not braless but instead of wearing sports bras, they wear pretty Princesse Tam Tam bras that make them look braless).
• The guys wear form-fitting v-neck t-shirts that show their svelte physiques and accentuate their slim hips.
• Converse are the sneakers of choice.
• Everyone takes the elevator.