I am going to let you in on a secret longing of mine: to be pictured in a Title Nine magazine.
Weird huh? But they always show these very fit, every-day women, doing really awesome athletic things while wearing hip clothing. The pictures always seem to exude coolness. The type of coolness that I don’t think I have.
In case you haven’t ever seen one of their magazines, they show women either running, climbing, camping, biking, doing yoga, or other cool activities. They then tell the person’s name and a few key facts.
*woman shown brushing a horse*--Mareike’s next adventure will be hiking or biking in Panama with her husband. When she isn’t working as a director of an adult literacy program, she can be found playing a game of kickball, or relaxing in a hammock. Fresh air is her only requirement. Proudest accomplishment: Single-handedly building her bathroom.
*woman doing yoga/climbing*--Sarah: a freelance graphic designer/production artist who understands the joys of working from home. Her major accomplishment is buying a house in Tahoe, where she can support her favorite pastime—being outside. Hidden talent? Authentic Italian cooking.
*woman overlooking some sort of physical training/climbing a rock wall*--Melanie: occupation: co-owner of an all-female outdoor fitness business. Favorite book: Into the wild. Little known fact: She’s addicted to knitting. She also is an excellent cookie baker.
Dude people. Are you for real? Because you seem to be saving the world, enjoying life, going on exciting adventures all while wearing rather expensive hip athletic wear. And you are all incredibly in shape. Could you leave some hope for the rest of us poor saps? I really hate feel inadequate.
Whoever does the marketing at Title Nine is brilliant because I look at these pictures and I think, “They are cool.” My next thought is, “Perhaps if I bought this clothing, I would be cool too, if not actually in a peer-accepted sort of way, then at least just in appearance.”
However, I will just have to content myself in imaging being cool as I huff and puff through my three mile run in my stinky and threadbare exercise clothing.