I Love the '80s...Aerobics Edition!

Continuing my obsession with the New York Times and its gym stories, I read this Thursday Styles gem today. The story was fair enough: These days, gym-going New Yorkers would sooner shove hot pokers into their eyes than actually interact with other human beings while blasting Fall Out Boy on their 'Pods and hitting level 7 on the elliptical trainer -- let alone meet other young singles. (Well, unless they're gay, and then that all goes out the window, the article says. I knew there was a reason the mean gay guys at my Chelsea gym look sort of mad as they watch me walk to the locker room by all the weight equipment.)

I also learned -- as I was not a New Yorker in the '80s -- that gyms in the city two decades ago were pickup scenes rather than workout means. (Oh, yeah, that line was all me.) But what really cemented my love for the article was this picture:
















Now that is comedy. The guy still looks like he'd be right at home on a 2006 Men's Health cover, but, oh, Christie, that hair! I'm thinking her hairspray residue alone would be acidic enough to bore through the fake leather of a weight bench. And could someone please explain to me what the function of that tiny turquoise belt is?

I'm glad it's not the '80s anymore: If I manage to remember a pair of sweatpants, a sports bra, a T-shirt, and a ponytail holder for my workout, it's an accomplishment. If accessorizing were involved, I'd definitely be flushing my $50-a-month membership down the toilet.