As a kid, I took ballet lessons for over five years, learning how to be graceful while doing frontward splits and plié-ing like my life depended on it. I gave up ballet when I decided there were more important things I’d rather be doing, like deciding which song lyrics to set as my away message on AIM. Sadly, the grace and posture I was forced to develop during my lessons also faded into obscurity over the years, steadily made worse by the fact that my current job involves me sitting in front of a computer all day and occasionally running to the bathroom to test out a new lipstick. Case in point? While getting a massage a few weeks ago, the masseuse kneaded my back for a few minutes, then looked at me in pity and said, “I cannot fix this.”
The Turning Point
That’s why when I was approached about trying out a new Fitbit-like device that also helps with your posture, my inner 8-year-old ballerina did an arabesque and enthusiastically agreed. The Lumo Lift ($99) is a sleek,small device that you clip to your shirt or bra strap using a little square piece of magnetic backing (which I was secretly happy to see came in multiple colours—style, y’all).
How it Works
First, you have to download the app to your phone, and sync the Lumo Lift with it. You’re told to double-click the device and sit with “good posture,” which is the standard you will now be held to. From now on, the Lumo Lift will buzz whenever it feels you slouching. You can keep it this way for the whole day, or set a Coaching Session for shorter periods of time. I have to admit that the first few times it buzzed I was annoyed—flashbacks of my childhood ballet teacher scolding me flooded my mind and I felt the strong urge to remove it immediately. But after a while, I did find myself sitting taller, if only because I didn’t want to be jolted by that annoying buzz again. The rest of the day, I carried myself with my shoulders back and my back straight, like a true ballerina—my 8-year-old self would have been so proud. Plus, I liked going home and seeing how many steps I had walked (another nifty feature of the device).
There were times when the Lumo Lift would buzz incessantly even when I was sitting rod-straight, but this could have been my own fault for not calibrating it correctly. Another unfortunate thing was that the metal clasp that attached the Lumo Lift to my shirt kept getting stuck to the metal strap of my cross-body bag, which caused a few panic attacks throughout the day because I thought the device had detached itself and was now missing. But other than those two small kinks, I unexpectedly enjoyed having a tiny version of my childhood ballet teacher attached to my bra strap, as creepy as that sounds. Pick up this little device if you have any interest in giving off prima donna vibes (posture-wise, that is—you can save the attitude for your home Beyoncé dance videos).