This...is Wei Lana. She is the inimitable host of a seemingly lo-fi, home-brewed fitness program, 'Wei Lana Yoga.' You can catch her at odd hours, practicing her extraordinarily low-impact (also low-movement, low-coordination, low-effort, and low-rhythm) form of yoga. Although seemingly reasonably fit, she tends to baggy, voluminous jogging suits and the like --an ever present lei around her neck, and a trademark crown of tropical blooms in her hair. This is an interesting counterpart to the usual collection of lithe, barely clad, posturing sexpots that make up the usual yoga show (and for which I am eternally grateful.)
What I find remarkable about Wei Lana is not her yoga. Certainly not. She tends to morose, unattractive postures that she holds forever despite her obvious lack of balance and the posture's obvious lack of therapeutic value. I confess to having gotten addicted to the show for its ending --the last 7 minutes are inevitably a montage of Wei Lana singing badly while dancing arrhythmically, interspersed with crashing waves and gulls and brawny, out-of-focus surfers. Yes, that is charming, particularly when Wei Lana gets so far off beat that they go in and out of slow motion in an attempt to get her to conform to any regular pattern of claps, or coy, birdlike kicks, or whatever the hell she is getting off-beat with this time.
No, what kills me is that as horrible and amateurish as the whole thing is, she has established some sort of huge dynasty, with an entire top-to-bottom line of foodstuffs, dvds, equipment, etc. Good lord. Doing more always trumps doing well. Wei to go!
No comments:
Post a Comment