This place is where I discovered Buti Yoga, which, unfortunately, I can never un-discover…read more
I'm from the area, and started googling around for a yoga class while here visiting family. This new place caught my attention and the Buti Yoga class fit my schedule. I did not look up "Buti Yoga" before I went. This was my fault.
In the studio, music blares so loudly that even the non-terrible songs sound terrible. We get on all fours and shake our booties. We stand up and shake our booties. Some mountain climbers. Then we get on our knees and shake our booties.
The official story, I later discovered, is that the Marathi word "Buti" was chosen because it means "the cure to something hidden or kept secret." My dudes, it's called "Buti" because it sounds like booty.
A couple of down dogs happened incidentally, but by any reasonable measure there was no yoga. There was dance, which looked fun for the teacher and the three women who were close enough to hear her instruction. But I was near the back, where we had to crane our necks to see what was happening, and then imitate each move haltingly, maybe twice, before the next one came around. Even when the vast majority of the class froze in confusion, the teacher never paused to break something down.
I felt dumb and miserable. For a minute I just sat my Buti on my mat and stared at the Biggie and Beyonce lyrics neoned millennial-ly onto the walls, hating them even though I love Biggie and Beyonce. I should have thought to leave, but there is no hearing your thoughts in that room unless your thoughts are Kanye at 100 dB. Eventually I grew to appreciate the loud music because I could say "This is stupid," out loud, several times, without being heard.
At the end of class we bowed and said "namaste," which makes sense, just like crossing yourself and genuflecting on your way out of a nightclub.
Look, basically all American yoga is appropriative. I've unblinkingly gone to studios offering "yummy" flow classes and selling inspirational stationary in lobby. I'm not a purist. But to me, there's something especially insidious about this Buti shit. Calling movements "primal" just to titillate a bunch of fitbit wearers. Referring to a roomful of mostly/all white women in a strip mall as a "tribe." The extremely on-Insta founder from LA, who is here to unlock 6000 year old yogic secrets for you, and also hawk her $63 protein powder.
To be fair to this establishment: Buti is just one of the classes they offer. The instructor was sweet, super energetic, and can twerk, good for her. The facility is clean and spacious. Your first class is free, and no one here actually invented Buti Yoga. Three stars?
But still. RSS really seems to embrace the Buti ethos of hashtagged enlightenment and fake sisterhood and full-makeup workouts. Which should embarrass us all.