Today, for the first time, I tried the new Jade Yoga mat I purchased at the Certified Calm boutique in Shangri-La Plaza Mall. I’d actually bought the mat three days ago (with much wavering and vacillating), but had put off using it until I could buy an AquaZorb towel with which to cover it during use.
The delicacy was necessary because the mat—which bears a stunning resemblance to an industrially flattened Grimace (think of a very flat purple thing)—cost about the same as two spare car tires (which likely use far more rubber). As mats go, this one would give a genuine flying carpet a run for its money.
And this, precisely, was the cause of my indecisiveness at the shop. I was there, for all intents and purposes, to buy a glorified placemat because the dirt cheap one I owned was worn almost all the way through in patches.
As it turned out, all the thick, high quality mats required thick, high quality wallets. After my initial shock had subsided, I promptly turned towards the shelf with the thinner mats—at which point Abbey intervened and pointedly reminded me of the hazards associated with using thin mats. (When I’d asked an assistant at the yoga teacher training what I could do to reduce the incidence of bruising on my back, she’d taken one glance at my protuberant bones and drily replied: “Get a thicker mat.”)
And that was how, in the end, I walked out of the shop with the most expensive mat on stock—and with two headbands to boot.
Fortunately, it turned out to be a surprisingly delightful acquisition. Apparently, even in the austere world of yoga, there is no such thing as an over-engineered mat. During asana practice today, my hands and feet DID NOT SLIP (GASP!) and my footfalls did not sound like Godzilla on a rampage. And after years of lying down in śavāsana on a threadbare mat, my new mat felt positively water-bed-like.
In short, I fell in love.