This entire year I have been absently watching a battle brewing.
The shots being fired have shuttled between armies of aspirationally-inclined, all shades of pink-drenched “Pilates Princesses” working really hard to cosplay as Elites…
and…
The bright-eyed and possibly comparatively big-tailed chicks with bodies that remind them of their working class moms, aunts and the roots they’re running from.
On one side the bullets have flown in defense of the ambiance of the now rote, commercially prepackaged, spa-like bendy arenas that the Pink Princesses have been programmed by the marketplace to see as sacred and as far removed from their routinely somewhat humble body conscious beginnings as they can muster, pricepoint-wise.
On the other side they have rung out in outright defiance to all of that, on principle. Sometimes from wannabe rebels previously without 21st century social justice causes finding one they can effectively impact within their sphere of bona fide bodily influence; Other times in defiance of skinny bitches getting in comparatively bigger chicks ways when they finally find an on-ramp to self-care that for some reason sings out to them.
Why am I voyeuristically compelled to tune into this seeming feminine madness? I am a Dark Fantasy , travel & lifestyle author with a social commentary kink.
It’s a little ding(h)y, but my particular tribe never knows what’s gonna float the boats until the writerhead tides have risen(get the joke?lol) …so we tend to casually keep a broad watch.
Plus, I’ve been working on a book series for over two decades that culls the fat from what’s really under all of this psychologically and physically…so I stay abreast of shit. It’s rich work.
Think of it as romantically manning lighthouses in the fog of current cultural zeitgeists at the cusp of the[middle of the] apocalypse.
Speaking of Armageddon…
It’s all coming down to “the erosion of reading comprehension in society”…once again.
Whether we are talking about reading a book, reading a room, effectively reading a market, or reading an OPP like you were suckled on the tit of Elektra on the set of Pose…it’s all gone out the window, Hunty.
& for that degradation of requited , multilayered comprehension this world very well may be burnt to ash.
This kid has drank so much of the capitalist koolaid that she has swallowed it hook ,line & sinker, only to have strung herself up alongside last month’s Pink Pilates Princess that was burned in wax effigy, by both the internet and the very ones who’d been funding their elevated, pseudo-elitist flights of fancy as “instructors.”
They never see it coming. Because the market they’ve cashed in with their own clientele after paying to play via 100, 200, 300 or 500 hour commercialized trainings… left out the core principles of the very form they’re hocking so they could be incentivized to DO said hocking.
Capitalism sees all the work poured into stuff like this , cuts it off from it’s true roots to package the com modifiable bits and sells it to the highest bidder. It works because they don’t stop running and just pass it off to less inclined to deep-dive the product minutemen-salesmen. They don’t stop running because if they do they have to reckon with what happens to any bloom that is cut off from its roots.
The latest batch of Instructors getting lanced are making all this rabble-rabble due to feeling like the product they bought into is being “degraded by diversity.” They need to keep the elitist sheen on it to justify the prices they were convinced they’d be able to position their version in the marketplace at….so they are fighting tooth and nail to justify something that is Never touched in any of this series of 2025 Instructor meltdowns.
They are fighting to not see they got GOT. The ire they have & are loudly expressing online is directly linked to the money they were convinced to INVEST in learning how to sell this form.
The truth hurts. So much that they are compelled to go on the rampage. Attacking all who look like they are sullying the premium price point of their offering.
Baby, it’s not the so-called phat bitch on the reformer in the back of your class that’s bringing down the high. It’s you trying not to wake up to the realization that YOU got gamed.
These ‘gatekeeping wenches talking about how the Pilates “legacy” justifies keeping it out of reach for everyday folks like a legacy fashion brand…are not just highlighting which venomous marketplace snake bit them in the brain and corrupted whatever good intent led them to Pilates in the first place.
(Yep… it’s all luxury branding 101 sickness… symptoms showing up in those not aware of the actuality of the game. But that’s another post lol.)
They are also…showcasing to the world… that they never fucked with the man who birthed Pilates at all. in all of their getting coins they got NO understanding at all.
Mother FN Joseph Pilates Designed the very program these chicks huckster-hustle On HIS BACK In A rickety BED as a damned near destitute kid.
That is right… The Patron Saint of Pilates, Its’ fucking Josef…was one of the very ‘bloated Poors’ these aspiring to look anorexic instructor bitches don’t want visually mucking up the esthetic of their classes because they think those fat chicks kill the vibes.
He did it To Recover from an injury that left him bedridden, so broken he was possibly Never going to walk again since his family couldn’t afford ANY Other care.
& here’s a slathered with butter morsel for the outright racist bitches helming battalions of those armies… to choke on like the crusts of bread that’d have them right back in the arms of the bulimia they very rarely talk candidly about that’s often embedded into their pompous , performative bandyhooing about as the perfect Pilate princess out in these streets:
his first real “disciple”…His first bona fide Pilates Princess… was a Black woman that HE- Joseph Pilates trained.
I grew up with Working Dancers- The ones whose feet could put the fear of God in ya if they spring them on ya by surprise- in Cleveland -a very dance-centric city ( the Cleveland Ballet to Karamu House) to New York City. Real dancers have relied on pilates to recover from debilitating injuries when nothing else worked. I went to an urban performing arts high school and even we ended up getting reformers before my ass graduated in like 93 …for the dance division. Then I ran all over nyc with best friends who were dancers beating the fuck out of their bodies on stage, then continuing on their way to becoming Ballet Teachers, Masters & Mistresses…who were still doing PT to stay mobile off center stage… because if they didn’t they’d collapse into pain.
Yall are doing all this posturing, hell-bent on looking like them without any comprehension of how poor the corps of dancers are often seemingly kept in all this, too. Ya don’t understand the brunt of working dancers are damn near impoverished trying To dance, long before being featured.
Compared to traditional standards it’s like with the other creative arts. Right behind teaching when it comes to import to a culture and the disrespect it receives in this one. There’s so much you have to put money to in order to professionally move in the artform you profess to. Most are not entering this rich. Usually the rich ones are jerks, and if not, they’re reeling becoming accustomed to being rich not meaning as much as it would elsewhere because a body hit is a body hit. & Dancers have it the worst because it all depends on their literal body.
& when dancers don’t have a gig that has healthcare…or they have an injury they have to find a way to bear…
Do you know what they fall back on often as fuck? Fucking Pilates. Just fucking saying.
…Fight me on this if you want to , but at its actual core PILATES is one of the most “Everyman” forms the 20th century actually produced.
& THAT, my friends-my friends… is what makes all of this so fucked up. It is the epitome of what is so fucking wrong with capitalism & abject consumerism.
These instructors catching cybernetic hands from the internet not only deserve every fucking forehead slap, they alongside many others specializing in Pilates…show there is no honest interest in, nor true idea of the roots of the form…in even the most pedestrian, common sense way.
It is blandly obvious that Her root , her intro into all of this pilates stuff has been in the repackaged For only bored rich housewives era.
Those bipocs and thick hipped chicks getting their own body journeys in order from a place of self-love or fuck you skinny hoes energy defiantly pinged off the foreheads of these bullying gatekeepers… are the ones 100% in key with the root of Pilates.
Especially with all the Literal going to the internet to try to dissuade fatties from showing up to classes, intent on Straight cyber-Bullying people out of going to a class to try to learn pilates the right way.
Part of Pilates birth pangs came from being fucking bullied for being weak and poor…and capitalism encouraged these people thinking they’re holding the legacy banner of it aloft to exhibit the behaviors of those who goaded the form out of his little kid body.
…sometimes Ya can’t make this shit up! lol.
The Angel, pointing out the dark fantasy draw to all this nonsense for the ones still not getting it.
I’m chuckling because She has No idea she’s just a shill for the bastardization of Pilates that would have Joseph flipping over in his grave, and not somersaulting Cadillac style.
I’ve read some of his stuff that spoke to his intent. He’d Love it being democratized the way that it has been- as long as people were taking the time to learn to do it right- so that Anybody could heal themselves.
He created what he did …what became pilates…after basically being left pretty much for dead as a broken, poor child. To succumb to bedrot.
There are chicks dragging their bodies into these classes in a similar zone. Broken. Told to give up by everything outside of them. Fat chicks. Chicks in mismatched outfits. Stiff chicks who are doing the best they can to find a way to health that the world around them has said they’re too far gone to aspire to.
Leave them the fuck alone to get down to whatever in that dude’s spirit has called them to his peak.
& if they’re doing it for proximity to ‘cuteness’ currently prescribed as the end-all to societal malaise like some of you beyotches… leave them alone too. We leave yawls ridiculously posturing asses alone. Leave them alone.
Why are you focused on Any other body that the one you’ve been entrusted with in the first place?
Ya call it your f ureaking temple.
So… fucking Serve, bitch! Damn. In the true sense of the word & beyond.
You are supposed to be there with you and your God of ‘rich girl bawdy-bodying‘.
Let this be the dawn of a new day for you.
Get out of their journey to whatever fucking summit they have in their sights…before it’s too late.
Because, honestly? It’s so giving uIFA:
unchecked ‘Inner Fattie Angst.’
(…sounds oddly similar to you heffa~)
If you gotta talk about them being too big or black to be there… you’re triggered. You’re still body dysmorphic on the inside, boo.
That inner Fat chick you hate and have done all this shit trying to avoid is alive and well within you...and if you don’t simmah down and take several fn seats it is only a matter of time before she returns, in hopes of finally teaching you the self love lesson you seem to have jettisoned on your climb.
It should not have to get to making you bleed your own blood, yet here we are, Becky.
Look. I get the free-fall at the price point corrective whathaveyous making you a bit sensitive and crazy. … I know you’ve invested time & money[towards it, seemingly instead of psychotherapy to unpack xyz, but that’s a whole other…whathaveyou] .
& Pilates IS hard. It’s no joke. On the mat, Reformer, Tower or Cadillac it is a beast …that can change your life and how you relate to your pure form. It did for me.
Yep, even running with dancers and dabbling a bit in my teens & 20s…
I shied away from fully flinging myself at Pilates until my early 40s, in Miami. Not for any of the mess currently being kicked up in these skirmishes by yall. But due to knowing the arc.
… I actually dug the lore, the sacristy of it all myself, even as an observer. So I get why they hold it to heart the way they do, some of em. It’s a good tale.
(The true one…)
& for the record…I was always welcomed into the purported kingdom, if you will. I have lived in a 6 foot ship that is built like the Ailey dancer my dad once wanted to be in 1968 and that my kid sister was on the route to becoming… for forty one years.
That I dug gyrotronic stuff as more my speed makes sense when you learn that my actual mountain turned out to be qigong… but all props are given to Winsor Pilates dvds in the 90s lol as an easy intro to f ureaking one hundreds that made me curse like a sailor[& were the only thing retained from said dvds lol] AND the boon of living in a condo complex on the bay whose in-house gym had selling points of accessible steam rooms, saunas and a Cadillac room for tenants. I stepped into my body as a grown assed woman dangling upside down on a Cadillac. I give it all the respect the form deserves because without it I understand that the journey I’ve had with qigong may not have been as open as it has been physically for me.
All this back-biting hurts me not because I experienced it…but because I know what I got from not having to experience it when my time with the form came. I just… don’t want that opening stolen from anyone who can be helped by Pilates.
I say all that to say this, teachers: Don’t let the market mobilize you into stealing vanquishing that beast from others also on the climb.
Don’t make your workouts…all your sacrifices to get where you are… as pointless as dude helming the gym in Dodgeball at the end of it all… by being a mean girl towards chicks who look like the thick-legged, cake loving inner child you can only suppress for so long without having to truly heal.
Yeah, nobody wants to be the kind of fat that has given up on themselves…but no one wants to be the festering husk of an empty yet rich skinny bitch, either.
For the love of God and all things holy… YOU should be a non motherfucking factor in everyone’s ascent outside of your own.
Let people rise how they deign to rise.
-AB
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