Lagree Isn't Pilates, and That's Exactly Why Hollywood Can't Get Enough

If you’ve scrolled through your favorite celebrity’s fitness routine on social media lately, you’ve probably noticed something: everyone’s talking about Lagree. Nicole Kidman does it. Gwyneth Paltrow swears by it. And if your boutique fitness waitlist looks anything like West Hollywood’s, you’re competing with half the city for a spot on the Megaformer. But here’s the thing nobody seems to be saying out loud: Lagree isn’t actually Pilates, and frankly, it was never meant to be.

The confusion is real, and it’s kind of easy to see why. Both methods use reformer-style equipment. Both promise a toned, sculpted body. Both live in that bougie fitness ecosystem where you’re paying premium prices for expert instruction. But according to movement instructor and studio manager José San Miguel at FlowCorps Durham, the comparison misses the mark. As he explains it, reformer workouts are like a Venn diagram—Pilates on one side, Lagree on the other, with everything else floating in between. Traditional Pilates, rooted in Joseph Pilates’original method, is built around rehabilitation, control, mobility, and core stability. It’s about moving better, feeling better, and understanding your body. Lagree? That’s a completely different animal.

Sebastien Lagree created his patented method in the early 2000s for a very specific clientele: actresses and models who were already in peak condition but wanted visible muscle sculpting without bulking up. He wasn’t designing workouts for dancers recovering from injury or for people just getting back into fitness. He was building something for people who wanted to see results in the mirror. And that origin story matters, because it shaped everything about the method—the relentless time under tension, the emphasis on muscle shaking, the slow, controlled reps that leave you glistening and slightly wobbly when class ends. When Lagree first encountered traditional Pilates in 1998, he saw what he believed was a gap: no progressive overloading, no protocol for muscle gain or fat loss, no shaking or sweating. So he added platforms and cables to the standard reformer, creating the Megaformer (originally called the Proformer), and with it, an entirely new way to think about low-impact, high-intensity training.

What does that actually feel like? A typical Lagree class weaves together planks, lunges, and push-ups alongside Lagree-specific moves with names like Super Lunge and Scrambled Eggs. The whole system is built around something called the Magic 10—ten core principles specifically designed to force physical change rather than simply maintain mobility. You’re sweating. You’re sore the next day. Your muscles are working in ways they probably haven’t before. And that’s not a bug; it’s the entire design. Compare that to a classical Pilates reformer session, which might prioritize improved posture, pain relief, and functional movement, and you’re talking about two very different experiences and very different fitness goals.

The equipment difference tells the story too. The original Pilates reformer, developed in the 1920s, uses a single sliding platform. The Megaformer uses two platforms—a design choice that allows for the constant tension and layered intensity that Lagree is known for. Lorraine Jenkins, a qualified Lagree and Pilates instructor and founder of Love Lagree, told Living360 that the method’s real draw is its all-in-one nature: strength, endurance, cardio, core, balance, and flexibility—all in one 45-minute class. It’s the closest thing to having a personal trainer without the personal trainer price tag.

But here’s something worth noting before you book your first class: whether you land on Lagree, classical Pilates, or something in the middle, the group fitness element itself might be doing more for you than you realize. A study in The Journal of the American Osteopathic Association found that group workouts lowered stress by 26%, while solo exercisers saw no real improvement in stress levels despite putting in more effort. The communal aspect—showing up, pushing through something hard alongside other people, and doing it together—delivers benefits that flying solo just can’t match. So maybe the real magic isn’t in the method at all. Maybe it’s in the room full of people all choosing to do something difficult together.