Unicorn Tears


Did you know that Lulu Lemon made a pair of gym shorts that has a pattern on them called Unicorn Tears?  

Did you know that these gym shorts with the Unicorn Tear pattern is so popular that Lulu Lemon sold out of these gym shorts in just a few days?

Did you know that these gym shorts with the Unicorn Tears pattern is now being sold on e-bay for $500?

If you didn’t know about this before, now you do.


I don’t know how I know this, but it pains me that I do.

It makes my insides drop and my spirit go sopping wet.  

So please, just hang me out to dry.

Here’s the deal:

Women and their relationship to body image has been talked about ad nauseam, right?  

But we’re still gonna to talk about it - because of the Unicorn Tears.

Those god awful Unicorn Tears.

Do you think it’s a long term, highly sophisticated, and well thought out strategic ruse set up by…

The Government? 

The Media?  

The Koch brothers? 

Scott Walker?

to get us all to spend our brain and buying power on Unicorn Tears rather than spend it on standing up and railing against the machine?

There are days when I say yes.

But who am I to say?

And who I am to judge?

I am more open, generous, available, open-hearted, accepting, and curious when I feel good in my body.

So if that means that someone feels good in their body because they’re wearing their Unicorn Tear gym shorts, then good for them. 

Mazel Tov.

But let’s just break this down for a minute:

How much time and money is spent by women thinking about and buying into the Tears of the Unicorn?

Too much.

I have dealt with body image crapola on and off  for my whole adult life.

And it sucks.

It’s a total brain drain.

It’s boring.

It accomplishes nothing.

It’s a game I’m playing that not everyone has the time or privilege to play.

There was a time when the standard of female beauty was zaftig and plump because that “look” was equated with wealth, affluence, and leisure.

The lean, trim, and muscled ones were the field hands, the serfs, and the workers.

That standard sure has flipped itself upside down and on it’s head hasn’t it?

So let’s flip it around again and create an entirely new paradigm together.

Are you up for it?

Great, let’s do it.

First off,

Let’s agree to stop body shaming each other.

Now I know that you don’t do that, but sometimes these little jabs slip out that are kinda like,

“What?  Really?  Did you just say that to me?”

Little tiny barbs that dig at you so subtly you’re not even sure if you just got poked, but you did.

I get these all the time, from well meaning folk that really have no idea what they just said.

For some reason, most of them have to do with my boobs.

Things like:

“Don’t you think you should wear a more supportive bra?”


“Isn’t uncomfortable to have your nipples facing straight down?”


“I couldn’t concentrate on your dancing, ‘cause I was just looking at your boobs.”

& “I’m so glad I don’t have big boobs.  It must be really hard to be a dancer with boobs that size.”

The list goes on and on, but I think you get the picture.

And you know what’s the weirdest about all those comments?

They all came from women.  

Not men.


So let’s just cut that part out of any conversation we have as we work together to shift this paradigm.

What do you think should be the next step in changing this conversation, this standard, this pattern, this code of behavior and beliefs?

What do you think should be the next step in shifting this modern and western archetype of women and their cantankerous relationship to their bodies?

Leave a comment here so that we can all start to shape this new frame of relating to bodies and each other together:

I am about to turn 45 and I am lucky enough to have a body and mind that are healthy, strong, agile, and fleet-footed.

I am also going grey, I have hair growing out of my chin, my belly hangs over my underwear, and I am now firmly entrenched in Ma’am land (except for this one cashier at Whole Foods who insists on calling me ‘young lady’, which just makes me want to throw up, especially since he is like…12 years old maybe?)

I am actually truly and fully accepting my body “as is” for maybe the first time since puberty hit.

Amen and hallelujah.

Our bodies are meant to age, so I say:

Bring it on.

I’m ready and excited to see how my relationship to this planet and this universe changes as my body continues to sag, sprout, and expand.

Your dance mission for the week is to dance on your furniture.

All of your furniture.

The bed, the table, the chairs, the couch, the desk, the credenza (I only know what a credenza is because Glen just built one).  

And if you can, do it while wearing your Unicorn Tear patterned gym shorts.  

It will only cost you $500.

With Warmth and Jivey Vibes,



Joanna and The Agitators

sweetly agitating/persistently upending