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Despite the fact that I am basically never motivated to test a new yoga class—especially at any of the many yoga studio equivalents of big-box superstores sweeping the nation with their Ikea-looking cubbies and tiny branded tank tops for sale—I recently abandoned my scruples and went to a studio outside of my comfort zone. After hearing several people mention their love for the self-proclaimed “modern yoga experience” at one particular chain, founded in 2012, I wondered what all of the hype was about. So I signed up for a single evening restorative class at YogaSix.
First of all, it was “Y6 Restore” in a warm room. I hate heated yoga in general, and it felt weird to me that they’d add the stress of a warm environment to a style of yoga known for its relaxing and slow movements. (Arguably, warm rooms make some people relax more, so I can see both sides.)
I tried to keep an open mind despite my initial panic as I started to sweat—before class even began—in the heated studio. The room was dark, which is ideal. But not when accented by neon blue and green stage lights—the kind of cheesy club lighting that makes my painted nails appear neon and that I typically associate with mind-numbingly bad DJs and overpriced drinks.
Still, it was reassuring that the teacher had already set up the props for each student prior to our arrival. YogaSix has its own version of a bolster, which they call a “pillow.” It’s bolster-shaped but it’s also very soft and definitely not as sturdy as a typical bolster. When I used it under my legs in Savasana, it offered very little support for my low back. The teacher gave us velvety pillow cases to put on them. I suppressed my inner thoughts which were debating as to whether this process made using the bolster more or less hygienic, and waited for class to begin.
Unbelievably, it got worse from there.
It was basically a stretching class…except for when it was a workout class in which the teacher cued reps of Chair Pose. She mostly offered verbal cues which were hard to follow, and there were very few variations given. My favorite part was when she said, “Listen for modifications!” before cueing a stretch and literally didn’t give any. More than once I found myself lingering in limbo because I didn’t want to do the stretch as she showed it but I didn’t know what else to do with my body.
Overall, the vibe was less like yoga and more like physical therapy on a cruise ship. (Disclaimer: I have never been on a cruise. And now I feel I don’t need to.) This is mostly due to the aggressive lighting and the random selection of music this particular teacher was playing—think Steve Wonder meets yacht rock, both of which have their time and place, but not in restorative yoga.
The (other) worst part? The teacher placed her hands on me without consent. Which I stewed about for days after it happened. If you’re a yoga teacher who touches me without asking, I will hold a forever-grudge. After first adjusting my leg in Reclining Hand-to-Big-Toe Pose, she then reached her hands toward my upper back to presumably push my body farther down in Seated Forward Bend—one of the most irresponsible adjustments I can think of to make without asking. “Can I just…?” she started to ask. I cut her off with a firm “No.” She obliged.
The teacher did make an intentional effort to cue students to breathe multiple times throughout class, which I appreciated. She also drew our attention to specific areas in our body (i.e., ribs, belly, and so on) where our breath could fill our bodies. Her asking “Where is the breath?” in various poses actually helped me deepen my stretch and relax into several different postures.
The Savasana I experienced at YogaSix will go down in my book as the worst ever. I love Etta James, but not when she’s blasted during Corpse Pose. At least the teacher handed out cold lavender-scented towels before the final resting pose to place over our eyes. The towel smelled *amazing,* although I put it on my forehead and not my eyes because I’m a germaphobe. (Give me an eye pillow in a public place and I will assume I’ll contract conjunctivitis.)
Apparently, there’s typically an on-duty “wellness advisor” at YogaSix who attempts to cajole new students into purchasing more classes at the end of the first session. Or so I was told after class by the instructor, who mentioned she was happy for my sake they weren’t in the studio that day so I could leave without the hassle of the sales pitch. Lucky me. Though they wouldn’t let me forget them that easily. For a week following the single class I took, I received several texts, missed calls, and voicemails from a wellness advisor and the yoga teacher asking me if I was interested in continuing my “yoga journey” with them. Until I blocked the number.
Of course, my experience was only at a single YogaSix location out of hundreds worldwide, in one class, with a specific teacher. I can’t possibly speak to the quality of the entire franchise, nor can the Redditors who’ve called the YogaSix classes they’ve attended “mindless,” “not authentic,” and “watered down.” Still, as the saying goes, you only get one shot at a first impression. That day after class, walking through the sterile white lobby on the way to my car, I comforted myself with thoughts of never having to return to YogaSix. Any of them. Ever. Like a turtle receding into its shell, I’ll stick with my comfort zone-classes for the foreseeable future.
