I’ve always said I wanted to tear down walls with this business: the walls between neighbors, and the one between “I’m not a Pilates person” and the Reformer. Last week, standing in our new Riverdale studio, it got a lot more literal. Not a metaphorical wall. An actual wall. I can stand in an empty room and look at it for a really, really long time, and I did, until the voice in my head started sounding eerily like Ronald Reagan's: Tear down this wall!
This is also why I never quite know what to say when people ask, “So, how’s Riverdale?” “Great!” is true, but the real answer is that I’ve spent the week staring at a wall and mulling over how big a desk can be.
I bought a desk. Through a little friendly miscommunication, it was accidentally assembled... in the wrong studio. And then, it turned out to be enormous. Now I lie in bed doing desk math: how much surface does it need to show off the right amount of grip socks, and how little can it take up so nobody feels crowded the second they walk in? Do we custom-make one? I think we have to. How much can I sell this one for on Facebook Marketplace? Should I use the photo from the website, or one of the mostly assembled desk irl? Do we need to finish putting it together before listing it? It’s a lot of thought for a desk.
That’s what opening a third studio is really like. From the outside, it looks like one big decision. In reality, it’s hundreds of tiny ones, lined up and waiting for their turn in my brain. How many inches between reformers? (Although I know our City Island people enjoy the chance to hold hands with their neighbors when everyone extends into a T 😂) What time should Saturday class start? Is that paint too yellow? What should we call the new class? If we move Tuesday's schedule to Thursday, what happens to Thursday?
There’s a reason Steve Jobs wore the same black turtleneck every day. Cut the trivial choices, save your brainpower for the important ones. Elizabeth Holmes adopted the same uniform, although given how things turned out for Theranos, perhaps we don’t look to her for decision-making advice.
I still understand the appeal. By the time I’ve spent a full day making decisions at The Pearl, “What should we have for dinner?” can feel like a personal attack. I’d happily wear a black turtleneck every day if it meant a delicious/nutritious dinner that everyone in my family actually wanted to eat would somehow appear on the table. That would be a breakthrough worth investing in.
Of course, the decisions don’t stop when I close my laptop. Some days I can settle a major business question before breakfast, then find myself at Trader Joe’s that evening, completely paralyzed choosing between rigatoni and farfalle.
But here’s what I’ve figured out. I used to design costumes, and I can tell you that almost nobody notices the sheen on a button, a hem length, or the exact shape of a collar, but everybody feels it. Those tiny choices tell an audience who a character is before they say a word. Design is just decisions, made one at a time, until they add up to a feeling. Now I make the same kind of choices about a place: the space between reformers, the height of the desk, the yellow-ness of the paint. They decide what the studio feels like before anyone has taken a class. Same job, different cast. This time the character is a building, and she’s going to be a very welcoming one.
So yes, I love it. I love watching all those little decisions come together into something real, a place where people can move, meet each other, and feel good. It’s just that sometimes I wish my brain came with an out-of-office reply.
Anyway, like the one in Berlin, the wall is coming down. If only someone could make a decision about dinner.
See ya on the mat!
P.S. November Community Classes: Supporting BronxWorks
Throughout November, all funds raised through our $5 Community Classes will go to BronxWorks, a Bronx nonprofit that supports our neighbors with food assistance, housing services, education, and other essential programs. This month’s donations will support their food pantry, helping provide groceries to Bronx families experiencing food insecurity.
With Thanksgiving around the corner, we’re especially grateful to be part of a community that keeps showing up for one another. Come move with us, give what you can, and help us share a little of that gratitude beyond the studio. 💙
Riverdale memberships: Founding Memberships are almost gone, and Pre-sale is open! Fewer than 20 of our 100 Founding Memberships are left, and pre-sale memberships are now available too.