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Despite the fact that I’m rarely motivated to try a new-to-me yoga class—especially at one of the many big-box-style studios popping up everywhere with their sleek cubbies and branded tank tops—I recently stepped outside my comfort zone to take a class at YogaSix. Billed as a “modern yoga boutique,” the brand has opened more than 200 locations across the U.S., quickly becoming the largest yoga franchise in the United States, and has expanded internationally to Germany and Japan. In a post-pandemic time when many independent studios have closed their doors, that kind of growth is hard to ignore. So while I prefer practicing yoga at small, independent studios, I signed up for a restorative class at my local YogaSix to see what’s drawing so many people in. Having practiced an array of yoga styles for more than a decade, I wondered whether this modern, chain-studio version of yoga could possibly work for someone like me.
For many, I can only assume the structured format, consistent studio branding, and sense of community that comes with being a regular here might appeal to someone new to yoga or looking for a low-barrier entry point. There’s an accessibility inherent in walking into a familiar-feeling space, no matter what city you’re in. That’s the appeal of a franchise, right? You know what to expect, no matter the city or studio.
YogaSix doesn’t offer traditional yoga classes (nor do they claim to), but more of a “fusion” style that’s become popular at many gyms and studios. I opted to take a Y6 Restore, which is described as a practice to “release major muscle groups of the entire body” and takes place in a warm room. I usually avoid heated yoga as a personal preference, but I was curious about the studio’s choice to add a warm environment to a style of yoga known for its relaxing and slow movements.
Despite my initial panic when I started to sweat before class even began, I tried to keep an open mind. The room was dark, which was ideal, but when dramatic neon blue and green stage lights turned on, the room felt more like a nightlife venue than a yoga studio to me.
Still, it felt reassuring and welcoming that the teacher had already set up the props for each student prior to our arrival. YogaSix has its own version of a bolster, which they call a pillow. It’s bolster-shaped, but it’s also very soft and not as sturdy as a typical bolster. When I used it under my legs in Savasana, it offered less support than I was accustomed to for my lower back. The teacher also gave us velvety pillow cases to put on them, which did assuage my inner germ freak. (At most studios, you just make peace with the fact that the props have seen a lot of use—and probably absorbed a lot of sweat. Try not to think about it too much.)
For the majority of the class, the vibe was a hybrid between a stretching class and physical therapy, except when it turned into a workout class, in which the teacher cued reps of Chair Pose. She mostly offered verbal cues, which were a little too vague to follow without a visual demonstration. There were very few variations offered and, more than once, I found myself lingering in limbo because I didn’t want to do the stretch as she showed it, but I didn’t know what else to do with my body.
She did, however, make an intentional effort to cue students to breathe multiple times throughout class, which I appreciated. She guided our awareness to specific areas of the body—like the ribs and belly—where we could direct the breath. Her prompts to notice “where the breath is” in different poses helped me deepen my stretches and relax more fully into each posture.
In the Y6 Restore class I attended, the teacher put her hands on me to adjust my leg in Reclining Hand-to-Big-Toe Pose without asking. I was surprised and disappointed, as in recent years, there’s been increased awareness surrounding student consent when it comes to a teacher’s hands-on adjustments. Different studios tend to handle the matter differently. Some have strict policies, whereas others leave it to the teacher’s discretion. In my class, when the teacher later returned to offer an adjustment, she did ask for consent beforehand, and when I said no, she respected that.
While in Corpse Pose at the end of class for Savasana, Etta James played loudly while the teacher handed out cold lavender-scented towels for our eyes during the final resting pose. (I don’t mind Etta, but this felt out of place to me.)
For a week following my class, I received several texts, calls, and voicemails from both a wellness advisor and the yoga teacher at Yoga Six asking me if I was interested in continuing my yoga journey with them. I’m not used to that level of follow-up after a first class and it turned me off to the experience. (I usually practice at small, independent studios where that kind of post-class outreach isn’t the norm.) After the fifth time I was contacted, I opted to block the number. Ultimately, this wasn’t the type of yoga class I want to take again.
Of course, this was just one class at one YogaSix studio with one teacher. I can’t speak for the entire brand or the experience someone else might have in a different class or city. But I can say that, for me, this version of yoga—highly structured, branded, and studio-lit—felt worlds apart from what originally drew me to the practice.
Still, I get the appeal. These kinds of studios offer a familiar, repeatable experience no matter where you are. And maybe that’s the trade-off: something more accessible, even if it’s less personal and a far cry from my preferred practice. Maybe the future of yoga makes room for both—for the buzzier boutique approach and the quieter traditions that keep us coming back to our mats for reasons that can’t always be branded.