The trouble with Lulu

This post is going to be about LuluLemon clothing. My first experience with the now-ubiquitous brand was at university. I kept seeing these tight black pants with a strange logo all over campus, and one day I found myself in the changeroom at the gym doing my hair next to a girl who was wearing some. A little nervously, I asked her who made them. She must have said "LuluLemon," but somehow among the hair dryers and slamming locker doors, all I caught was that the brand name consisted of two words, both starting with L. I didn't ask her to repeat herself, and so the mystery continued for a few more months.

The next person to mention LuluLemon was my mother. Then a few friends started raving about the pants and how comfortable they are. (I work out exclusively in pants, so I was intrigued). So I went down to my neighbourhood LL store and navigated my way around the perky yoga-crazed salesgirls to try on a few pairs. I ended up buying black pants (not sure of the model, and unfortunately LuluLemon's annoyingly difficult to navigate website has not helped me find a picture), but here are my observations:

- I had to buy them a size larger than I actually am
- They are too high-waisted
- They are too tight at the top
- They make my pelvis look oddly boxy
- They cost $90

In short, I don't like LuluLemon, and I don't understand what the big deal is.