Yoga Spy

“What type of mat would you recommend?”  one of my students recently asked. She already has one, but it feels slippery. We all can relate. Sliding hands make Downward Dog agonizing.

But I couldn’t give her a solid recommendation. I’m not up on yoga mats. I acquired my little stable of mats over the past two decades, none recently. Out of curiosity, I did quick online research: Today’s high-end mats cost US$100-150, with features including exceptional grip, ample thickness, reversible sides with different textures. Whether made of polyvinyl chloride (PVC) or natural rubber, they typically weigh more than five pounds.

Would such a mat change my yoga practice? My poses? My life?!

No. I have no need, no interest, in a new mat. But I got to thinking about my prop collection—and props in general.

Bare-Bones Beginning

In the late 1990s, I stumbled upon yoga at the UC Berkeley Recreational Sports Facility (known as the RSF). I was already a regular in the weight room and pool, but yoga was off my radar until an acquaintance persuaded me to try a class. We gathered in a vast basketball court, on gleaming floors chilly in winter. There were mats and blocks, but no blankets. So we used padded gym mats to kneel or lie on. For straps, we substituted stretchy TheraBands or eclectic neckties that someone had donated.

My first teacher, Sandy Blaine, made yoga practice come to life. I had zero expectations. An initial negative experience might have permanently steered me away. As it turned out, Sandy was an excellent teacher. I loved those classes.

Regarding setting and props, I had no idea that they were minimal, even makeshift. I never felt deprived or disadvantaged. I was oblivious to the world of fancy props, much less mega studios with spas and cafes. Soon, I also took classes at Sandy’s studio and at The Yoga Room with my other original teachers, Donald Moyer and Mary Lou Weprin—where I saw the full range of Iyengar yoga props. But I continued attending Sandy’s RSF classes until she stopped teaching there.

That minimalist beginning ingrained in me an appreciation of simplicity, unpretentiousness, absence of a “scene”—for my yoga practice and perhaps for anything.

Prop Use in Iyengar Yoga

All types of yoga use props, but they’re associated closely with Iyengar yoga. BKS Iyengar pioneered modern props by inventing them—bricks became today’s blocks, a barrel became today’s Dwi Pada Viparita Dandasana backbender. Although props have the reputation for making poses easier—strap for Gomukhasana, block for Trikonasana—they also compel precise alignment and can make poses more challenging.

Wikipedia’s “Yoga using Props” entry surprised me by its thoroughness. It lists various ways that props are used, including to correct alignment, to hold poses longer, to allow ease and relaxation. Eyal Shifroni, an Israeli teacher who has written prolifically on Iyengar yoga and props, discusses their use with examples and quotes from his books.

Teachers, including Iyengar specialists, vary in how much they employ props. Some are more minimalist while others are structural engineers in their elaborate set-ups. Since Iyengar yoga method generally does use an assortment of props, however, it’s commonly stereotyped as prop-heavy. Does that bother Iyengar yogis? I can laugh about it, as I did reading this joke:

Q: How many Iyengar yogis does it take to replace a light bulb?
A: Only one! But they will need…

a sticky mat
a backless chair
two blocks
five blankets
a bolster
six ropes
two belts
six assorted benches
a bandage
a slant board
two quarter rounds
three weights
one wooden horse
a certificate

Recommendations Based on My Own Props

My main piece of advice: Get quality props. They’re not consumable goods like running shoes that you’ll need to replace due to wear and tear. Props are quite durable and, I realize, will long outlive me. Get things you really like, and you’ll never need to replace them. You might not need a $150 Manduka Pro, but don’t get a random $15 mat on Amazon either.

Mat

I first bought the “orange peel” German mats, which were used at the studios I frequented. They have reliable traction, non-staining matte texture, firm density. And they lie absolutely flat when unrolled. Note: The thinner 2mm material has proven more durable than the thicker 4mm, which sloughs off in areas of heavy use. I still have my very first mat (retired) and a couple of brand-new ones.

Note: These German mats are hard to find online nowadays. I found some at Yoga Life Style, but they have discontinued retail sales. Two decades ago, I bought mine from Yoga Props, a San Francisco online seller whose website was retro back then—and now deserves historic preservation status. My order was substantial (mats, blankets, blocks, and straps for my sister and myself) and the owner met me at the Berkeley Farmers Market to deliver the props face to face. Who does that nowadays?!

I also have the standard PVC type—still sold, still affordable, at Hugger Mugger) and they’ve proven durable and functional for daily use. These mats are 4mm thick, which for my purposes is thick enough. If I need more cushioning, I add a folded blanket.

Perhaps the luxury mats are meant to be multipurpose—stand, kneel, roll, lie on them. No need to fold it or to add a blanket. In Iyengar yoga, we typically use multiple props, so a mat need not be super thick. Also, I don’t put my mats through excessive wear and tear. Although I practice Surya Namaskar, I don’t do them daily, so my mats don’t take daily hard abrasion.

Final tip: Avoid thermoplastic elastomer (TPE) mats, which are touted as less environmentally harmful than PVC. These mats are slippery, flimsily lightweight, and prone to permanent creases.

Strap

My favorite is the classic Pune strap: off-white cotton, 1-inch width, sliding metal buckle. I have wider 1.5-inch straps with D-ring metal buckle, but I find them less comfortable in Sarvangasana and generally harder to manipulate. My first strap purchase had a plastic, snap-on/off buckle that sounded a resounding “click” when closed—but that giant buckle isn’t my preference.

As for length, 8-foot straps are worth the negligible additional cost over 6-foot ones.

Blocks

In my block collection I have solid cedar (two pairs), hollow bamboo (two pairs), cork (one pair), and foam (two pairs)—overstocked, I know. They vary in dimensions, but most are four inches deep. Recently my go-to blocks have been a hollow bamboo pair. I like the hard edges, yet relatively lightweight portability. That said, my favorite blocks are my two solid cedar pairs, handmade by two different Vancouver woodworkers. Their palpable heft promotes deeper visceral effect—and to me they’re works of art.

Chip-foam blocks

Did these originate in Vancouver? I love their firm, yet compressible, density. Their broad, flat shape is perfect for sitting poses and for a base layer for Sarvangasana. If you buy these, buy a set of four. Since they’re made of recycled foam, different batches might vary in appearance and touch-feel. Also, I highly recommend getting covers, which prevent crumbling.

Bolster

Early in my practice in Berkeley, I bought a handmade round bolster. No complaints about quality. Size-wise, however, its diameter is too large. In contrast to bolsters I’ve used at studios, mine is a giant. While usable for some poses, for others I substitute rolled or stacked blankets.

Blankets

For many years I used three grey, pressed wool-blend blankets. That fabric was thick, virtually impenetrable, and almost impossible to fold up. But they were perfect as my Sarvangasana stack. The seller’s online instructions warned not to machine wash them. But, after I used them at the US Iyengar Yoga Convention with Abhijata in 2016, I took a chance and machine washed and dried them. They ended up shedding more lint than a live furry animal; I sadly discarded them.

I now have three densely woven, coffee-brown wool blankets, almost pure wool, heavy as army blankets, but passable as elegant home decor. For Zoom teaching and everyday use, I usually use a pair of easy-care, Mexican, cotton-acrylic-blend blankets in vivid fuchsia.

But Wait, There’s More

I also have a cork slant plank, two 10-pound sandbags, an eye wrap, and a pair of Gripitz blocks, which resemble dumbbells with block-shaped ends and keep wrists neutral in weight-bearing poses. Rarely have I used the slant plank and sandbags—and the eye wrap and Gripitz are brand-new. Hmm, I sometimes acquire too much or too soon. But all in all props are affordable, compact, and durable—a good investment, possibly for a lifetime.

What’s in your prop collection? Any advice on prop investments for beginners?

Images: Handmade quilts, displayed at The Yoga Room, Berkeley, July 2017.