After years of looking down my nose, a well-known pose among those who don’t like it, I took up yoga. I couldn’t touch my toes, but I was allowed to touch the toes of the person next to me instead. I couldn’t do a ‘namaste’ behind my back, so I was allowed to do one in front.

But my biggest problem is I can’t tell if I have got a pose right or not. Should only my foot swing between my hands or my knee too? At some future date, when I am finally able to bring my leg around my neck while folding my tongue and getting my toes to touch my knee, how will I know I have got it right?

Now I will be able to tell, thanks to an Australian fashion designer who has developed vibrating yoga pants that buzz in contact with specific body parts as directed by a cell-phone app that calls out poses.

When you work yourself into a pose, five sensors in the pants scan your body, collecting data. If you haven’t got it right, the pants will vibrate and buzz in targeted spots, to indicate where to make an adjustment.

Pretty useful. But I suspect I shall emerge from a session with black and blue marks on my body thanks to all those vibrations and buzzes.

And that’s not all. After each pose, the app on your phone will say, “Congratulations’’, in a robotic female voice. Or, “Please look at the instructor and try again’’.

I suspect, in my case, it will also say, “Why do you waste your time here? Why don’t you take up stamp collecting or water colours instead?”

The pants, its inventor says, have to be charged between workouts. This is a happy coincidence, for I need to be charged after a workout too.

The inventor, Billie Whitehouse, seven years ago developed vibrating underwear (no comment) and then a blazer that vibrates to tell the wearer when to turn right or left.

I can see myself wearing the blazer all my directionally-challenged life. The yoga is a minor problem compared to my issues with driving. Like a young politician, I always ask myself, should I turn right or left? I belong to the Yogi Berra school of thought: “When you come to a fork in the road,” said the legendary baseball player, “take it.”

I shall now wait for Ms. Whitehouse to invent a vibrating something (handkerchief, perhaps, or socks) that will tell me which way to turn to avoid the yoga class. The last time I thought I was running away from it, I landed right in the middle of it and had to touch somebody’s toes.

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