From Spin to Stage: Jamie-Lee Money’s 'Spin Cycles' Debuts in Cape Town

-Ashley Allard

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There comes a time in every woman’s life when you must decide if you are pro spin bikes or against them. Sometimes, it goes from one to the other, or it stays the same. A lot of women will call it a cult, and some claim it’s the reason their hymen finally broke, and others will say it is why they wake up in the morning. While Jamie-Lee Money explores the benefits and drawbacks of hot pink spin classes in her electric one-woman show, Spin Cycles is also about absolutely everything else.

taken by Claude Barnardo

Spin Cycles, directed by the talented Larica Schnell, surrounds the character of Lorelai, a young South African woman working in England as a wellness journalist. Arriving back in London after a short time back home, Lorelai’s boss assigns her a new story: She must attend a spin class and tell the world if it is as life-changing as the world of Goop and Pinterest says it is. Along her journey, Lorelai, or Lolly, navigates a slightly inappropriate crush on the company intern, a few hangovers, the spin cycle hierarchy and the slowly swelling tide of grief that she can no longer outrun — or, in this case, ‘outspin’.

Spin Cycles was set into motion in 2023 after Money attended a spin class and decided to use it as a framework to explore all of that which had happened to her recently. Then, in 2024, the play debuted in Edinburgh, where she and her parents still currently reside. In Edinburgh, the set was limited to a spin bike but has grown and morphed into something much bigger since. With its profound themes and sharp humour, Spin Cycles was always destined to grow and expand. In 2025, Jamie-Lee Money decided to bring the play home to Cape Town, adding more South Africanisms to give it that extra touch.

The play is limited to three main props: a pink fold-out chair, a bench and, of course, a spin bike. Money makes use of all, showing her innovative creativity: A bench becomes a bed, becomes a coffin, a chair becomes a table, becomes a plane seat, and a spin bike becomes a stage, becomes a crushing metaphor.

Contemporary wellness culture holds, alongside the Pilates mat, the spin bike to be the newest symbol of white feminism. Not only does it occasionally appropriate and capitalise off of drag ballroom culture (Slay Queen etc.), but this form of boutique fitness also further perpetuates neoliberal values of toxic aspiration and ‘having-it-all’. Spin studios particularly have hierarchies and utilise cult-like language. It is a space that targets vulnerable individuals, promising a fix to any emotional stress they may be experiencing.

Lorelai enters the space knowing this. She is sceptical and spends her first class trying to find a way out. Although it doesn’t seem like she experienced anything life-changing, she goes back—again and again—and laughs, cries, and reels through the pain.

Ironically, spinning helps Lorelai move through her grief. Throughout her classes, Lorelai must spin and spin, go up hills and downhills, work her arms, stand and sit, all without going anywhere. There is no destination or end goal (apart from wanting to look like Margot Robbie), but instead, it is driven by a feeling—a desire to feel better, for release.

taken by Claude Barnardo

Spin Cycles frequently caught me by surprise. While the play was laced with Gen Z slang and humour, the theatre, which held almost every age demographic, laughed hysterically at every joke. The play is presented as a pretty pink picture wrapped in neon athleisure yet threads complex themes of guilt, grief and trauma seamlessly throughout. Just as you are lured into a false sense of security, making fun of her boss and Joel the intern, the high-pitched ringing returns to remind you that not all is as it seems.

Spin Cycles addresses the unique and suppressed way women tend to deal with trauma. After centuries of being labelled hysterical and too emotional, it has become second nature for women to bottle up and carry on through, instead dealing with guilt, self-hatred and depression by engaging in physically taxing activities, like spin. Lorelai spins and pushes herself through this class, continuously comparing herself to her other spin classmates and worrying whether the teacher knows and likes her, oscillating between the need to be seen and the want to disappear. And at the end of each spin class, Lorelai is found bent over her spin bike, heaving and sobbing.

While it is a one-woman show, Money incorporates audio recordings into her play. This adds an eerie feel to the story, foreign, faceless voices spilling onto the stage, and you see her as she sees herself: alone in this echo chamber, trying to move forward and yet always standing still. It is important to mention the incredible efforts of Kieran McGregor, the lighting designer. Switching from neon and strobe to fluorescence, the lighting was used with great precision to highlight the various narrative emotions.

Spin Cycles effectively dissects the paradox of modern wellness, revealing the vulnerability hidden beneath curated perfection. A timely and relevant piece, Money’s performance challenges us to consider the importance of finding authentic emotional release. In order to move forward, we must truly feel. Spin Cycles is funny, profound and a definite must-see. Catch this masterpiece at the Baxter before it ends its run on the 1st of March, 2025; it’s a ride worth taking.