I was reading a feminist blog post the other day because (gasp) I still consider myself a feminist. But as I was trying to learn about equality, I stumbled upon something supposedly meant to fix the double standard that ended up making me feel even worse.  It was an article explaining why women who wear makeup and well-matched clothes to the gym and look good are ruining it for the strong, independent women who don’t feel the need to worry about what others think of them.
Wait. What?
I’m all for “you doing you” and not wanting to be judged, but all this theory really does is throw that same judgment on a specific group. For me, going to the gym is a new concept because for most of my life working out meant ballet class.  After years of pink tights and intricate buns, looking my best for exercise is just one of my habits.
But I don’t wear makeup to the gym because I’m worried about impressing anyone. My face is usually so red after half an hour on the elliptical that it’s practically purple, and there’s no way that will ever be cute.  I put effort into my appearance, even to go to the gym, because I work harder when I feel good about myself. If my headband and my sports bra and my sneakers all match, I am guaranteed to run faster and longer every time.  I go to the gym to look and feel good—that’s the point.  Plus, it’s a fact that I almost always achieve more when wearing mascara.
Trust me, I hate that super fit girl in the Lululemon yoga pants (who never sweats) just as much as you do, but that doesn’t mean I can deny her the right to wear out her brand-new Nikes on the treadmill.  Let’s be honest; our hatred for that girl is motivated mostly by jealousy.  It’s the same jealousy we feel towards the girl in baggy sweatpants making five minute miles look easy or the guy who keeps jumping onto that insane bench thing in the corner like it’s only six inches high.
And that brings me to the other thing that annoys me so much about that article—guys. They can wear whatever they want to the gym, and no one seems to care. That’s a double standard if I’ve ever seen one!
Now, if pop culture has taught me anything, it’s that the gym is a prime place for romantic comedy style sudden meetings with our future soul mates. And since I’ll be sweaty and awkward enough, I would prefer to have pretty hair when Prince Charming sits down at the bike next to me.
So next time you go to the gym, feel free to wear that hideous tracksuit you’ve been hiding in your closet. Or a ball gown. Or whatever. Look as bad or as good as you want to; it’s really none of my business.