By Ellie

As is the case with most things yoga, it was Nic who first introduced me to Yoga with Adriene. It is no exaggeration to say this was a life-changing recommendation. If you’re a fellow Adriene fan, you know what we mean… 

While I have always done yoga semi-regularly, it sometimes ends up last on the list. When work is busy, or I’m spending too many days tired and hungover, or dating dramas take over: yoga is the thing that falls off the life radar. 

Adriene – with her lovely, moderate and eminently achievable ethos – changed all that. Can’t make it to an hour-long class in town? You can only fit in a quick 10 minutes before bed? Cool. Adriene has a video to help you with that, and will make you feel awesome for bothering at all. 

Best of all, I found I was now in a semi-secret club of Adriene enthusiasts. I was amazed at how many of my friends were in this gang! We’d all use the exact same words to describe her, and evangelise about our shared girl-crush as if we had discovered the meaning of life. 

‘She’s just lovely. She’s not annoying at all. I wish she was our friend. Oh my god, I actually love her.’ 

Since discovering Adriene, and the joys of doing YouTube yoga in the comfort of my own sitting room, I’ve managed to fit a lot more yoga into my life. This can only be a good thing. 

However, before that, I’d already spent years trying pretty much every yoga class in town. While some worked for me more than others, they at least left me with a solid downward dog and a general knowledge of which muscles I should be engaging when. Basically: what it should feel like as well as look like. 

I attempted to introduce an ex-boyfriend to the wonders of Adriene (not that he deserved it, but that’s a whole other story). He was a musician with back problems and I was convinced that yoga could sort out all his issues (including his fear of commitment, tbh). 

Having never been near a yoga class in his life, even the beginners’ videos left him mildly perplexed and only doing a vague approximation of the shapes on the screen. With the best intentions, he was not living his best yogic life. 

It made me realise that, while I was now enthusiastically recommending YouTube yoga all over the place, perhaps it’s not always ideal for the total beginner. I would never want to discourage anybody from having a go, and something is always better than nothing – however, if you find yourself trying YouTube yoga and enjoying it, you might get even more out of it with a few in-person pointers. 

So… this is where the SCREEN TO STUDIO workshop comes in. Nic will look at form and common issues, and generally help you get the most out of your practice, whether in front of the screen or in the studio. There’s no pressure to make the transition to attending actual yoga classes – we know there’s not always the time (or the inclination), and our deep and abiding love for Adriene is going nowhere. 

Top tip: before a first date with a hot young dude the other night, I did Adriene’s ‘confidence boost yoga’ in between shaving my legs and piling on the eyeliner. It sorted me right out. Highly recommended, if a slightly embarrassing addition to my pre-date getting ready regimen.

By Ellie

I can vividly remember the first exercise class I ever went to. It is not a good memory. 

I was 19 and I was extremely unfit. I was a pale, malnourished sadsack of a girl. I had so little muscle tone I was as floppy as a ragdoll. I liked to go out dancing and sometimes my flatmate and I would ‘go on a health kick’ and do the Cindy Crawford workout video in the sitting room (I was inordinately keen on celebrity workout videos). Then afterwards we’d eat a readymade pizza, drink cheap supermarket vodka and smoke ourselves silly. 

I was a student, surely this was to be expected! But when I went home for the summer, my mum was worried about me and the fact I looked like a Victorian chimneysweep with rickets. She suggested I came with her to her beloved ‘body pump’ class. Actually, I think she promised to take me for chips afterwards to sweeten the deal, or I’d never have agreed to it. Anyway, I put on some holey old leggings, my Nirvana T-shirt and my old PE trainers and slouched unenthusiastically into the class. 

‘Body pump’ was a relatively new concept at the time – a class set to music and involving choreographed exercises while lifting heavy weights. The class was full of middle-aged women who could lift dumbbells that weighed more than I did. 

Shamingly, I couldn’t lift the lightest weight. I had to do the class using just an empty bar. Even that nearly killed me. Everyone found it hilarious. I had to admit it was pretty funny, but it didn’t make me want to go back. It put me off exercise for a while, reinforcing my view that it just wasn’t for me. 

Eventually I took up running, did a basic yoga course at an arts centre that I quite enjoyed, and my early aversion to exercise became a distant memory. However, there is still something intimidating about going to a public exercise class for the first time. It still always brings back memories of doing squats with no weights and feeling like I was going to pass out. 

When I moved to Brighton at the age of 24, I think I tried every yoga class in town. I went to Bikram, ashtanga, flow… All I really wanted was a nice basic class where everyone was friendly, nobody took it too seriously and I wouldn’t stand out in my mismatched ancient PE kit. It was harder than it sounded. 

The element of the unknown is always scary. I’m not self-involved enough to think everyone’s looking at me, but I still don’t want to be the one getting everything wrong and falling over at the back while perfectly Lulu Lemon-ed women roll their eyes and snigger. 

If you can relate, this is where Misfit’s beginner yoga workshops come in. The whole point is they are for absolute beginners and we’re all in it together. We all know that feeling of not being sure what you do with a block and what the hell ujjayi breath is. We’ve all been there. 

The two-hour workshop will teach you the basic poses and give you an idea of what to expect from a public class (or give you some tips on home practice if the idea of a public class really fills you with too much horror). You can ask any questions and be totally reassured that no question is too basic/silly/weird. 

Most importantly, we promise there will be nobody there turning their nose up if you turn up in a T-shirt you got free at a work conference and some ill-fitting leggings you bought in Primark circa 2007. In fact, we salute you.