A new spin on old fun

Hula hoops are back in style, swiveling hips and bringing smiles

Allyson Makiej (above), taught a hula hoop trick to Lori McDonough, 10, of Littleton, at the Westford farmers' market. Norma Antonetti (left) of North Chelmsford decided to buy a hoop for exercise after being shown the technique. (photos by Joanne Rathe/Globe Staff)

WESTFORD - Here's a reintroduction.

Pick up that hoop. Stagger your feet. Do a Jane Fonda tuck - suck in, straighten your back, lift your head.

Then: Fling the disc around your hips. Start off hard, keep the momentum - push it, push it, like you're edging a bureau into the wall.

There you go. You've got it.

"I've never done it before in my life," middle-ager Norma Antonetti, of North Chelmsford, mused recently after this two-minute primer on hula hooping on the Westford Common.

She paused. "Well, maybe when I was a kid."

You might say that hooping, a pastime that emerged 50 years ago along with Barbie and Play-Doh, is "hip" again. Or, better yet, that it's "come full circle."

Puns aside, though, the hoop has swooped back into Americana. But these days, it's not just for playtime: Instructors are billing hoops as portable, body-grinding gyms.

Because there's no dedicated hula organization, it's difficult to put numbers on the trend - but the anecdotal evidence is, well, swinging. Do a quick Google search, and you'll find dozens of websites dedicated to proper form, hula fitness videos, and personal trainer listings from California to London. Some classes in Los Angeles are rumored to have a Dolce & Gabbana-like waiting list; high-profile hoopers like Beyonce and Michelle Obama are attracting even more hip-swivelers.

Locals, meanwhile, are swirling with the Boston Hoop Troop and at private and group classes throughout the Merrimack Valley and elsewhere from Jamaica Plain to Greenfield.

"I think the whole world should know how to hula hoop," said Allyson Makiej of Lowell, an instructor who recently finished up a series of lessons on the Westford Common. "It would just make us more playful."

But for anyone who gave up on the old-fashioned hollow discs that endlessly clattered to the ground: Hooping has experienced a transformation. Today, the rings are easier to master; they're weighted and sized for different heights, weights, and abilities.

Leaning against a tree on the leaf-strewn Common this recent afternoon were enough of the colorful hoops to outfit a circus. They ranged in diameter from 2 1/2 feet to 5 feet; some were the size of bass drums, others no bigger than bicycle tires. All, when in motion, create a funky blur: skinny stripes and solids in turquoise and black, fuchsia, highlighter yellow, Mountain Dew-green.

The biggest are generally easiest; weights range from three-quarters of a pound to two pounds.

Clearly, it's not one size for all hips. "It takes time to find the right hoop," said Makiej, a trim, blond, experimental dancer who pegs her age to "well over 30."

Several years ago, she said, she dropped her "serious day job" to become a hooping teacher; today, she instructs hip-swishing students in private lessons or at bridal showers or social clubs. Most of her clients are female, ages 4 to 88; only about 2 percent are male.

All told, hooping promotes good posture and coordination, she said. It can also burn a fierce number of calories - 100 every 10 minutes, by some accounts - but at the same time it's an exercise anyone can master, from nimble youngsters to arthritic seniors.

Antonetti fits somewhere in the middle, and she admitted that she's not one for exercise. You're more likely to find clothes drying on her exercise equipment than droplets of sweat.

But hula? It's simple, it's silly. "I just think it's a fun thing for all ages," she said, stylish in a black pant suit, gray streak in her dark hair, rhinestones accentuating her rimless glasses.

Still, don't expect her to be an exhibitionist: She'll be rearranging furniture to give her hips a berth.

"You don't think I'd go out in the yard to do it?" she laughed, a yellow-and-blue-striped hula looped around one arm. "And have everyone see it?"

But other hoopers crave the attention.

Beyond where Antonetti stood was a girl corkscrewing a disc the size and thickness of a steering wheel around her right arm.

That's 11-year-old Erika Swinson. She's been at this for about three weeks - and she's addicted.

"It feels cool - it's rolling around you," said the Westford resident, her blue-and-green hula never ceasing its pirouette.

Today she's also practicing hooping around her neck; another trick she's learning is hurling a spinning ring in the air with one arm and catching it with the other.

There she goes: She stepped, threw - but it was too high; the hoop careened and dashed off among the leaves.

"I'm kind of failing," she shrugged.

So watch a hooping savant, 10-year-old Lori McDonough, of Littleton. She can whirl a hoop around an outstretched leg, orbit two around her waist, lasso one up in the air, slink another up and down her body. (Not all at once, of course, but she says she'd like to master that eventually.)

Then there's multitasking - walking, spinning, and jumping with a hoop circumnavigating her middle.

"It's just having fun with it," said the youngster, wearing a yellow "Chelmsford" T-shirt and matching cobalt camouflage pants and Crocs, two hulas rhythmically undulating around her hips.

She added in all seriousness: "I'm not planning to do it in the circus."

But sideshows are the last thing you picture when you look at Makiej: She's graceful, flowing.

She stepped away to demonstrate: She slowly eased a spiraling hoop up her right hand and hopped through, then danced in a salsa. Later, after slipping out of her shoes, she lay on a velour mat, rolling a hula on the ball of one foot, then the other, then back again.

But she ought to be good - she's spent the last 14 years swirling, wheeling, and whirling since she picked up the craft from a traveling performer named Shazam. "Start expressing, get sassy," she advised. "It's freeing."

And for most enthusiasts, that's the lure.

"It's very whimsical," said 22-year-old Nina Rojowsky, a green flowered bandana taming her curly mass of hair as she rocked inside a blue-and-orange blur.

"It reminds you of childhood play. That's something a lot of adults don't get."

Orbiting her hips, the hoop twirled and whirled, colors dancing.

Taryn Plumb can be reached at tarynplumb1@gmail.com.