A captivating blend of reportage and personal narrative that explores the untold history of women's exercise culture--from jogging and Jazzercise to Jane Fonda--and how women have parlayed physical strength into other forms of power.
For American women today, working out is as accepted as it is expected, fueling a multibillion-dollar fitness industrial complex. But it wasn't always this way. Seven decades ago, sweating was "unladylike" and girls grew up believing that physical exertion would cause their uterus to "fall out." Most hid their muscle under sleeves and skirts. It was only in the Sixties that, thanks to a few forward-thinking fitness pioneers, women began to move en masse. When they did, journalist Danielle Friedman argues, they were participating in something subversive: the pursuit of physical strength and personal autonomy.
In Let's Get Physical, Friedman reveals the fascinating hidden history of contemporary fitness culture, chronicling in vivid, cinematic prose how exercise evolved from a beauty tool sold almost exclusively as a way to "reduce" to one millions have harnessed as a path to mental, emotional, and physical well-being.
Inspired by Friedman's viral article in New York Magazine's the Cut that unearthed the little-known origins of the popular barre workout, Let's Get Physical takes us into the workout studios and onto the mats of 20th century America to reclaim these forgotten origins. Each chapter uncovers the birth of an exercise movement that laid the groundwork for working out today: the radical post-war pitch for women to break a sweat, the invention of barre in the Swinging Sixties, jogging's path to liberation in the Seventies, the explosion of aerobic dancing in the Eighties, the rise of weight-training and yoga, and the ongoing push for a more socially just fitness culture--one that is inclusive of every body.
Ultimately, Let's Get Physical tells the story of how, with the rise of late 20th century feminism, women discovered the joy of physical competence--and how, by moving together to transform fitness from a privilege into a right, we can create a more powerful sisterhood.
As a general rule, I don’t leave negative reviews or rate books I don’t like, because I know it can impact whether the author gets to write another book.
That said, this book is infuriating. I went in with really high expectations - I’m a Fitness Gal, and I’ve benefited deeply from traditionally “feminine” exercise movements like barre and yoga. While exercise has made my life better in profound ways, there’s a lot of weird shit happening in the fitness industry as a whole and it’s got a complicated past. I went into this book expecting a history of different trends, the ways they’ve been marketed to women in the last century, and an exploration of fitness as an industry conducted with a degree of class and race consciousness.
This book is actually several hundred pages of breathless fawning over “fitness pioneers” - each chapter is dedicated to a woman who developed or became a spokesperson for some kind of exercise. While the book acknowledges that these women are “complicated” in a cursory way, it spends next to no time exploring those complications.
For example - chapter 1 is dedicated to Bonnie Pruddens, who (among other things) helped develop the Presidential Fitness test. The Presidential Fitness test is now widely considered to be based on junk science, and that was recognized even at the time, but Friedman gives us only two sentences in one paragraph on page 17 to address this. For the most part, she paints the test as a net positive for American schoolchildren, which is ahistorical and baffling.
Chapter 4 is for Judi Sheppard Missett, the developer of Jazzercise. When it comes time to discuss the franchising of Jazzercise, we get one paragraph on what the franchising would actually look like, with a single sentence dedicated to financials. This is followed by an equally long paragraph describing Judi dancing in front of a tiger at a party.
This Jazzercise moment is the perfect example of what’s wrong with the book. That single paragraph on franchising could have been an entire chapter unto itself, it raises so many questions - I want to know what life was like for those suburban women who opened franchises. Was it actually economically beneficial for them? How did the messages behind Jazzercise translate to their actual lives, and the lives of their neighbors? Instead of digging into anything of real substance, Friedman merely quotes a line from Sheppard Missett’s book “Building Business With A Beat”: “a successful franchisee (and most were very successful) could easily provide the owner with a net income of $75,000.” And we’re just going to take her word for it.
Friedman’s willingness to simply follow along with the narratives of these individual “pioneers” is deeply disappointing. Moreover, it contributes to exactly the kind of myopic & uncritical hero worship that sometimes makes the fitness industry a miserable place.
I found this very easy to read and it certainly prompted a lot of reflection on my own relationship to exercise. The history is well-researched and mostly very interesting. I was particularly taken by the chapter on women’s efforts to be permitted to compete in long-distance running, and the one on Jane Fonda. The problem is, Friedman’s analysis and conclusions are muddled and poorly-communicated. I found the whole thing to be gloomily capitalist; “How Women Discovered Exercise” would repeatedly seem to be that one woman discovers an activity she enjoys, then works out how to sell it to a bunch of other rich, white, insecure women with promises of whittling them into the ideal shape of the era and making their men happy. Team sports don’t get a mention. There is some reference to the problem of women often being motivated to exercise purely to meet unattainable aesthetic goals, but Friedman never gets very far without betraying her own ingrained attitudes in this regard. Even when obituarising one fitness guru in the “where are they now” section, she impresses on us that this woman remained sexy with glossy hair and was taking lovers well into her 70s. Similarly, efforts are made to cover inequality and accessibility issues, but only in a fairly token way. Each chapter literally has a couple of paragraphs about race tagged onto the end. One of the main examples given of a progressive, inclusive, accessible exercise community is a particular Peloton group (!) which I think illustrates the lack of depth in Friedman’s consideration of barriers to exercise. I’ll stop there but I have loads more thoughts about this and actually took a bunch of notes while reading it. I think it’d be great for a book club or similar.
Fascinating history. I love that she mentioned that Zumba looks like a bunch of middle aged people laughing! It is so darn true! At least that's what it's like in my classes and the ones I attend! She referenced quite a few books and one that I have on my TBR list, so it should be good. Well organized history of fitness.
I listened to the audiobook version and the narrator was spot on and had fantastic diction.
Really struggled with this book. I learned some interesting things and it had … good intentions? But the bulk of this book was a parade of white, upper class, skinny, cis women with an especially long mini biography of Jane Fonda.
Black folks were addendums at the end of each chapter, Native, Latinx, Asian, disabled, low income, trans and non-binary folks get little or no mentions. The Yoga section in particular barely included Indian voices and most were in service to white folks.
Problematic things were mentioned but skimmed over (things like rape, lawsuits about gender equality, racism, poverty).
Frankly the writing was pretty dull and repetitive.
Honestly surprised by how many good reviews this got.
so much of this felt like when your mom tells you a story that is basically true but she makes up dialogue for a better punchline and you’re like girl she did not say that
This is a well written history of women’s exercise trends from the ‘50s through to the present day. It includes photos and mini-biographies of the fitness pioneers who made activities such as running, bodybuilding, strength training, yoga, and group aerobics acceptable and accessible for women. I’m giving it 5 stars for the ‘resting barre face’ line alone.
I can’t say I’ve ever thought of a book as a perfect Women’s History Month read, and yet with this one, I absolutely did. I was glad my listening to it coincided with the month we recognize the contributions of women to American history—because what a line-up of them featured in this read!
Beginning with the first chapter, author Danielle Friedman expands on a topic (barre exercise) she wrote about as an article in 2018 for The Cut. Each subsequent chapter centers on the history of other forms of popular women’s exercise, from running to aerobics to weightlifting (Buns of Steel!) to yoga.
Each chapter also provides an exploration of the lives of the women who were pioneers of physical activity. Their accomplishments seem easy to take for granted today, but when you put them in the historical light Friedman does—reminding readers women were discouraged to exercise right up through the ‘60s because society feared their uteruses might fall out (not even kidding!)—you understand how badass they were for wanting to break a sweat back in the day.
This book is also catnip for readers who love random tidbits of trivia. For example, I can now tell you the history of the invention of the sports bra (it’s honestly pretty fascinating). See also: how Vidal Sassoon’s wash-and-wear hair cuts of the ‘60s freed women from highly sprayed bouffants that were a major reason they never pursued workouts in the first place.
If I had one critique, it’s how little diversity gets represented in these pages. In fairness to Friedman, so much of the history of women's fitness is focused on white women because, for too long, they were the demographic with the means and capacity to work out. But I do appreciate that she spends her final chapter paying so much attention to rising fitness icons like queer “fat femme” yogi Jessamyn Stanley as well as Sadie Kurzban, the Cuban Jewish founder of a fitness chain (305 Fitness) dedicated to celebrating the bodies of all women, no matter size, race or religion.
I’d certainly recommend this read, and I thought Friedman did a nice job with the narration. Because I don’t want to forget any of these women, here were a few of the trailblazers I learned about:
— Bonnie Prudden, physical fitness pioneer who shocked the country by appearing in a fitness unitard (one of the first!) on the cover of Sports Illustrated in 1957 — Lotte Berk, founder of barre whose free-love life story is crazy (she fled Nazis, for starters) — Kathrine Switzer, first woman to run the Boston Marathon as a registered competitor in 1967. (She went on to campaign for women to run the marathon in the Olympics…a goal she never experienced herself as the sport wasn’t an option for them until the ’84 Games.) — Indra Devi, the woman who brought yoga from India to the US in the 1950s (as much as I love and practice yoga, I cannot believe how little I knew of Indra’s contributions to its popularity….see also Lilias Folan, whose PBS series, “Lilias, Yoga and You,” was a gateway to the practice for women in the 1970s) — Jane Fonda, the woman who caused such seismic change in the fitness industry it’s seen as “Before Jane” and “After Jane”. This book taught me SO much about this icon, and the chapter on her fitness reign was my favorite. (Said chapter ALSO provided a truly fascinating history of the rise of the VHS workout as well as the story of how Reebok came to be THE workout shoe of the era…those are more trivia tidbits worth discovering yourselves, among many other gems in this insightful read!)
An enjoyable look at the history of women and exercise.
The entire book I kept whispering, "Please talk about Indra Devi please talk about Indra Devi" and she DID! There was a chapter on yoga that I really, really enjoyed—it is intersectional and talks about the cultural appropriation of yoga.
There's so much more in the book, too, but the lastly takeaway is that whenever there is societal change (which is, always) there is always going to be someone going, "oh THIS is the thing that is making us weak!" and try something to fix the perceived discrepancy. Spoiler: it's generally not that bad, while the fix-the-weak mentality has roots in...you probably guessed it: white supremacy.
Anywho, this is not so much a history of women in sports (although there is a look at women's running) but women in fitness.
Read if you: Want a hugely entertaining, revealing, and inspiring look at how women created/influenced the workout revolution, from the 1950s to today. Some names will be familiar (like Jane Fonda), while others will likely be new to the reader. Everything from how exercise became an important aspect of the Cold War, to the development of the barre routine, the enduring popularity of Jazzercise, the origin story of Jane Fonda's workout, athleisure wear for women, the rise of yoga as an antidote to the pressure produced by high-energy regular workouts, Cross Fit, and much more. The "whitewashing"/cultural appropriation of yoga, the exclusion experienced by women of color in gyms and the fitness industry, and the growing acceptance of varioius body shapes in fitness and magazine covers is also sensitively detailed. This is fun and entertaining nonfiction at its best, with depth to boot.
Librarians/booksellers: This is a fantastic example of accessible and entertaining narrative nonfiction. Fitness-especially women and fitness--is an important subject for many. The effects of the COVID-19 pandemic are lightly discussed (understandably, since we are still in the middle of it!).
Many thanks to Penguin Group Putnam and NetGalley for a digital review copy in exchange for an honest review.
Let's Get Physical is a fascinating look into the history of women's fitness and the extraordinary female pioneers who made the industry what it is today. It wasn't a surprise to me to learn of the sexism in exercise (doctors actually told women not to run or exert too much energy for fear of their uterus falling out. Umm... what?!), but I had no idea just how many women (and years) it would take for fitness to truly become a staple in so many of our lives.
Danielle Friedman is a journalist—this book is actually a deep dive into an article she wrote for The Cut that went viral a couple years ago—and Let's Get Physical reads like some of the best long-form journalism I've read. It's well researched and all-encompassing in its look back at the last 70-plus years of fitness innovation. Each chapter features the most impactful movements by decade and a close look at how they came to be, as well as the women behind them.
Bonnie Prudden, Lotte Berk Judi Sheppard Missett—these are just a few of the women who changed the world of fitness in their time, and I was astounded to read about so many of them for the first time in this book. These women introduced fitness as we know it today, beginning in a time when women weren't even allowed to play sports in school and eventually earning them a place in the Olympics. How are these not all household names?
I took pages of notes while reading Let's Get Physical, and I haven't been able to stop thinking or talking about it since I picked it up. I've been interested in fitness since I was a teenager so I thought learning a little about its history would be fun. I had no idea how impactful it would be and just how much I would learn from it. I can't recommend it enough.
Thank you to NetGalley and G.P. Putman's Sons/Penguin Random House for my advance copy. All opinions are my own.
Not exactly what I thought it was going to be, but I mostly enjoyed it. It was chapters about various women bringing various types of exercise to America - more like mini biographies than anything. There were lots and lots of names. SO MANY names. I do not care who so-and-so had an affair with or who took the picture of such-and-such woman. I wanted more about exercise and what I got was more about the women. Which is fine, it's just not what I thought it was going to be.
With that said, I learned a lot from this book. I could not shut up about it to my friends, who all exercise and we all kind of take it for granted now. But it was not that long ago that we were not even allowed to sweat, let alone wear a sports bra. It was super interesting to see the evolution of fitness going hand in hand with the evolution of fashion and fabrics. I had never considered that before. Since the pandemic, "athleisure" is basically all I wear now, and I really really appreciate the invention of spandex that made this fashion possible.
Leotard was some dude's last name, as is Pilates. Also, spandex is an anagram of "expands." Mind blown.
A fun and light history of movement and the modern woman. Friedman started the research for this book in 2018 while researching the history of barre and Lotte Berk (later published in this The Cut article). Expanding her research to other women luminaries in fitness spaces, she delves into the lives and work of Bonnie Pruden, several women distance runners who drew women out in droves to "jog" in the 1970s, and the explosion of dance cardio fitness like Jazzercise, the Jane Fonda effect, women in weight lifting and bodybuilding, women in yoga, and the more inclusive and diverse spaces of the body acceptance and Health at Every Size movements of the 21st century.
Interesting tidbits/trivia along the way: - the history of the sport bra ("jog bra", or as it was originally coined the "jock bra" since the prototype was two jock straps sewn together...) - Friedman writes a whole chapter on Jane Fonda, including lots of biographical details. Friedman also doesn't shy away from the fact that she straight-up stole and appropriated movements and routines that were being taught by other (overshadowed/forgotten) instructors in the mid-70s. Fonda has admitted this and has recently worked to make amends with several of the instructors.
As someone who normally gravitates to fiction, I picked this up at the bookstore when I was staying with a friend for a weekend and forgot my book at home. Mixed feelings overall. I was surprised by the "readability" - this is interesting and well-researched without being a bore. But, I felt like there was an overarching thread that was missing - the chapters often felt disconnected- and although the author made an effort to incorporate BIPOC points of view, these often felt like an afterthought, rather than integrated into the narrative. I would also say that the chapter on lifting, which was of most interest to me, seemed like the weakest - there is a particularly awful definition of a deadlift that made me feel like the author's interest and expertise clearly lay elsewhere.
Look, I spent 2.5 years of my life studying sports science at university, and not once were any of the amazing women mentioned. I really enjoyed the conversational tone of this one- its so accessible and easy to read, while also being incredibly well researched. If, like me, you can sometimes find yourself a bit overwhelmed by stats, numbers and figures being thrown at you in a non-fiction, fear not, because you won't find that here! I'm very interested in reading more about this topic in the future, but I'm so happy that this was my introduction. The author does take time to talk about the inherent problems that arise within women's fitness, such as the focus on a woman's physic and the demand that they fit certain standards, and of course that these trends tend to be aimed at already slim, white women with enough money and time to participate. My favourite section was the last chapter that focused on what is happening within fitness circles now, particularly with the pandemic shaking everything up, and the women who are striving to make fitness accessible to everyone. I'm going to be recommending this one to my non-fiction fans! I think everyone could find something to enjoy in here.
A huge thank you to Allen and Unwin NZ for sending me a review copy!
You could not find a book with flap copy that is greater catnip to me, since boutique fitness intersecting with the sociocultural and sociopolitical is my absolute jam. This book really knocked a lot of it out of the park. Great research, organization, flow, etc. The critique I've seen most often (and an issue I expected right off the bat anyway) was about how white everything is, which, well, yeah--the history of boutique fitness is a history of white womanhood and hegemony, so it would be both disingenuous and historically inaccurate to present it otherwise. The question is whether to normalize or question it, and Friedman does her best to do at least cursory "of course, this wasn't very welcoming to [X] people" types of statements throughout. Is it super high level critique? No. But at least it's not pretending like everybody was welcome, and she does similar cursory statements about things like appropriation of Hinduism in white yoga. I get the sense she wanted to be real careful about staying in her lane and not get called out for, say, writing an entire chapter about what it's like to be a person of color trying to be a part of the industry, and good call, Danielle, but you could have pushed a tiny bit more. I'd say the bigger problem is that the only marginalized groups she ever really references are Black people, South Asians, and fat people, when, like....there are other ethnic and racial and social groups that exist? Like how do you not talk about Latinos and Zumba and how Americans love Latin things but hate Latin people? Or how lots of sPiRiTuAl fitness things crib from Native American culture (in the monolithic, mythic sense, it's not like anybody who steals it can tell you the difference between Mvskoke and Yaqui). So that was just super weird, because while you can't cover every franchise under the sun, Zumba in particular is a fucking huge institution and was only given a few little mentions.
Notable gaps include substantive coverage of the aforementioned Zumba, instructor/trainer worship, and Pilates, which I admit is partially just my personal thing because that's what I do and teach, but it's also pretty fucking important to 20th century exercise history!? It also would have given Friedman an easy opening into talking about two influential women of color without it being a "also, women of color exist" aside, because Kathy Grant (the only Black first generation Pilates instructor, afaik) and Cassey Ho (Pop Pilates is not Pilates, but that in and of itself is relevant to the history of Contrology) would fit in without feeling like a "don't worry, I'm not racist!" bid.
The final chapter is rushed and crams too many social issues into it in an effort to sound woke (and the book actually uses the phrase "woke culture," which is insulting because that's not a thing), but the rest of the book is full of incredible deep dives that are really eye-opening. Props for the responsible coverage of weird sex abuse (at least in the case of Lotte Berk--there was more "what used to be called Bikram yoga" than "here is what Bikram did," which is kind of weird but whatever).
Anyway, an absolutely fantastic read for what's there--it's just too bad it didn't do a better job with what was just barely touched on.
I thought I would really like this book - it's about exercise, about women, it's nonfiction. All things that typically interest me to read. But it was fine. My fellow book club friends didn't like it because they felt it came from a narrow perspective: too white, too cis, too skinny. That's valid to some extent; while Friedman continually acknowledges that the trends she documents excluded women of color or fat women or queer women, she doesn't make an effort to include the alternative trends or narratives that may have been happening concurrently or in response to the trends she does document. It's important we remember that this was written by a journalist, not a historian, and therefore her sources are much more heavy on the media of a period than on the individual reflections of women of different demographic groups. I don't say that as an out for Friedman, but as a warning for those going to read her book: know her bias and her background before getting your hopes up about what the contents will be.
The thing that really bothered me, though, was the tone of the book as represented by the title: "Let's get physical", a clear allusion to the song and to what I'll term here as "womanspeak". There's a language that [white]women use to encourage, motivate, or get other women to join something, phrases like, "Let's go, girls!" or "We got this." Friedman uses language like this constantly in her book, appealing to an audience of women rather than a general audience of people interested in this topic. It feels fake, coercive, and presumptuous to me. It annoys me because I don't think it's women who need to know this history the most - we know that exercise fads get coopted by consumerism to sell us more clothes and gym passes and health products, and we know that most of these movements continue to tell us to be thin, to be controlled, that our body needs refining and shaping. We brush up against those facts everyday, and we are frustrated by our awareness of them and also our conformity to them because so much of our safety and advancement still depends, unfortunately, on how we are perceived physically. So don't say "All right, ladies. Are you ready? Let's go" to me [end of the introduction]. I am ready, I'm ready for some of these norms to change and for my husband and my brother and my dad and gym execs and clothing companies and policymakers to be able to pick up a book like this and take it seriously and see this speaking to them.
I won't call this a magazine-article-as-book, but it does feel like eight articles back to back, each one profiling a woman who popularized a certain form of exercise: yoga, aerobics, running, weight-lifting, etc.
This was interesting as far as it went, but I felt that it left irritating gaps. The voices of women who did the workouts are present, but only in isolated quotes that seem designed to support the narratives about the founders. You don't get much of a sense of what it felt like to be an ordinary woman in '70s or '80s who started to work out. To the extent I have prior knowledge about these forms of exercise, it made me notice things like how step aerobics are omitted from the chapter that's mostly about the Jazzercise brand, or how the chapter on running ends with Oprah running the marathon (even though to me, as a longtime runner, that actually signaled a much bigger change in the sport than women being allowed in certain races did).
I also found that while Friedman pays attention to the primarily white, cis, thin, middle-to-upper class nature of these exercise trends, she never manages to deal with the fact that almost everyone she lionizes is selling something, and that the entire fitness industry is designed to make you feel bad, and then help you have fun in improving yourself. (Jia Tolentino has an essay on this.) There is a rah-rah thread running through the whole book that is hard to reconcile with the idea of women spending $59 in '80s dollars for the Buns of Steel VHS tape.
I found the stories of the women Friedman profiles interesting, but not as important as she does. Most women don't devote their entire lives to exercise but many of us choose to spend portions of our free time that way. I would probably have preferred a book that had a historical look at how women's motivations and beliefs changed over time, but of course that would have been much more challenging to research than these profiles.
An exploration of the intersection of movement, body and body image, women's empowerment and misogyny and even a little bit of fashion history😍 Loved this perspective on how I (and we as a collective) think about women's bodies and their movement. As someone who loves to do yoga, used to do Aerobic Dancing and likes to go for a run every now and then I specifically appreciated the deep dive into these sports
If you are a runner, an athlete or just a gym rat like myself, you will enjoy this history of women’s fitness. I found the evolution of female physical fitness fascinating, and I have a new appreciation for athletic shoes, sports bras and Lycra! Our sisters who preceded us fought hard for the right to move their bodies and to do it comfortably. We’ve come a LONG way, baby!!💪💪
4.5 stars! 🎧 I loved hearing about women owning their strength and power through exercise! I feel like it spanned a lot of different topics as each chapter focused on a new exercise in a different time period - cultural context, athletic clothing, intersectionality and inequity, and personal stories. If you are a woman who likes to exercise, check this one out and learn some cool stuff like how the sports bra was invented and how Jane Fonda low key stole her workout!
It was difficult for me to imagine a world in which women were actively discouraged from maintaining any kind of fitness, that to run or do pilates would've been seen as masculine. It's insane that the women's marathon wasn't added to the Olympics until the 80's. Our culture shifted so drastically in such a short time, and tracking that change was very interesting to me. Now, women are expected to have a perfectly toned body, a standard that basically no one can live up to, when not that long ago it was considered dangerous for a woman to exercise, as her uterus may fall out!
fascinating read for someone who hasn’t really thought twice about the history of exercise for exercise’s sake. especially loved the section on body neutrality.
I really was expecting a lot going into this book, but it was such a bore to read and some of the subjects followed in the narrative were problematic in different ways. I would have loved more diversity of women "pioneers" of fitness who made exercise more accessibly to everyone not just predominantly rich white women. This book was an eyeroll for me. The research and how the information was conveyed both need major tweaking.
The history of women in sports and exercising as a hobby (and as a right) is convoluted and complex. From the common misconceptions of the day (it’s still hard to imagine that they genuinely thought women’s uteruses would fall out if they exercised!) to the notion that two miles was the limit a woman would be able to safely run.
This book takes you through a journey of women’s liberation, when it comes to their looks, rights and their freedom to exercise. From tackling sexism, overcoming stigma and pioneering the way to women’s health and fitness.
From the origins of Barre, the birth of the sports bra (or jogbra) and the clothing which would allow women more movement than ever. It was so interesting to read and I loved reading how the ideals and looks of women changed throughout the times and years.
The book discussed the evolution of exercise classes to workouts in the home, yoga, strength training and the changing of ideals which were reflected in media and how women kept fit. It was a really interesting read!
Thank you to the author and publishers via NetGalley for this book in return for my honest thoughts and review.
As a champion of women and a lover of fitness this book was such a fascinating read! I learned so much about the history of women working out…from the first woman fighting to run marathons alongside men (and beating them!), the history of the sports bra, all the way to a more body-positive fitness industry of more recent years, I’m closing this book for an even greater appreciation of the work of many women before me who have paved the way.
I listened to this on audiobook and felt like that was the perfect format for this book. It’s one you can pick up anytime and enjoy a few hours or a few minutes to listen.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, women are truly amazing!
Terrific! I have to admit = I was surprised at how entertaining and informative this is. It's not only a social history of women and exercise, it's also a look at a multibillion dollar business built in large part by strong female entrepeneurs. And it's about female agency, about how physical exercise can empower. I think all of us know about Jane Fonda and jazzercise but while I've done the barre workout, I'd never heard of Lotte Berk. The concept of privilege looms but there's also egalitarianism. It's a highly readable and thoughtful. Thanks to Edelweiss for the ARC. A great read.
Ohhh, this is a tough one! On one hand, this was the perfect weekend read for me, I have a long and complicated history with fitness so I absolutely devoured the stories behind trends I know so well. This book was very well researched and definitely a page turner. At times, it was quite moving too, I especially loved the chapter on Jazzercise, which I never would have expected to be so empowering and sincere.
Where I struggled was the rather flippant way that the damaging effects of this industry were peppered in, often like little asides. This is absolutely a personal issue, but at times I found them almost triggering. OF COURSE it is not surprising that fatphobia is literally at the core of every fitness trend, however, I felt like the repercussions of this attitude weren’t part of the story. When a famed Pilates instructor is obsessed with thinness, what are the negative ramifications? I almost felt like the author was glorifying these attitudes. Not agreeing with them, but sort of sharing them like some little retro tidbit from way back when- and not recognizing that these attitudes and belief systems are alive and well today.
All that being said, toward the end the author does dedicate a section to fatphobia which was very informative, but I felt that it belonged earlier in the book. Perhaps I am too sensitive, so take this review with a grain of salt.