All products are independently selected by our editors. If you buy something, we may earn an affiliate commission.
When you’re new to a sport or activity, the usual rule is to wait a bit until you sink a bunch of cash into new gear. Whether it’s road cycling or skiing or learning the violin, the idea is the same: borrow or rent or otherwise cut corners to get started, and worry about gearing up once you know what you like—and know you actually enjoy your new pastime. (This is financially prudent but has the added benefit of keeping you from looking like a gigantic poser.)
I started doing at-home yoga in the depths of the pandemic last fall. Through a combination of working from home, borderline-compulsive running, and simply getting older, my body had basically seized up, and I thought yoga could help with that. I took that minimalist beginner approach: I ordered the cheapest mat I could find online and fired up some free classes on my laptop.
Predictably enough, I was terrible. Channeling any sort of energy or cultivating a little “yumminess” in my various appendages while I writhed and crunched was completely out of the question. I blamed my creaky body, and expected it to get better on its own, so it took weeks of struggle and before I realized an important truth: Yoga is an exception to the rule. You might need more gear if you’re just getting started.
Virtually every pose has a whole body of knowledge for how to modify it for the less-flexible among us, but these tweaks usually rely on props—a strap to lengthen your grip, a block to lift the ground to your hand. So I bought a bunch of stuff. At first it felt like cheating, but once you learn how to correctly modify a given pose, I found I could actually do the practice instead of flailing—when I wasn’t spending all my effort forcing things, I was suddenly building awareness in my body and uniting my motion with my breath, which is ultimately more important than any Instagram-perfect pose.
Of course, spending a bunch of money is not mandatory: a big book can stand in for a block. A normal pillow might work fine in place of a special yoga cushion. But some smart gear acquisitions have made me and my stiff, creaky body finally enjoy yoga—and they might for you, too.
The Best Yoga Bolster
The first yoga class I tried was from the famously accessible Yoga With Adrienne YouTube channel: “Yoga for Seniors | Gentle and Slow Yoga”. Piece of cake, right? Unfortunately this one starts with an extended section spent sitting cross-legged, and my hips and hamstrings are so tight that sitting on the floor is touch and go—much less trying to maintain a flat back and broad chest while I do it. So I started my yoga journey sitting in a chair.
I soon learned that putting my hips up onto a bolster is the only thing that makes long seated practices possible for me (and a lot of other people, too). You can fold up a blanket and get a similar effect, but there’s something about having the perfect yoga pillow that makes me not dread criss-cross applesauce.
The Best Yoga Blocks
Grabbing a block without shame whenever I want has completely transformed yoga for me. I used to dread folding myself into ardha hanumanasana, a half split—with a block on either side, it’s my favorite pose.
These come as more-handsome wood and cork varieties, but you want the softer foam kind, in my opinion—slipping one under my hip unlocked pigeon pose, and a little give helps when you’re putting that much weight on something.
The Best Yoga Strap
Yoga instructors like to tell you to grab your feet—in a seated forward bend, maybe or on your back in ananda balasana, “happy baby” pose. A strap is the only way I know how to reach. (It works much, much better than a belt or pair of running tights.)
The Most Forgiving Yoga Mat
A mat is basically the only mandatory piece of yoga equipment for beginners, and the main thing you’re looking for is something that protects your bony parts without being too soft. (Doing anything that requires balance on an unstable surface is a drag.) But this one is enormous—it’s not the thing to schlep around all day before a 5pm class, but much more forgiving if you get slightly off-track while practicing at home.
A few minutes of deep breathing may be just the thing for what ails you.
