Clearly I was born too late. If I were born in Roman times, I would be a goddess. I would have been revered; maybe even a legend (and not just in my own mind).
Instead, I am considered by many to be a little fluffier than I should be. In my opinion, I am just preparing myself for leaner times. It’s all about efficiency.
No matter. I, like you, will need to shop for that one bathing suit that will compliment my full figure. Just the thought of it is enough to make me break out into a cold sweat.
It’s all about courage and a positive attitude. Both of which I sadly lack when it comes to getting naked in stark lighting and fitting into a tiny spandex outfit.
This is not my first rodeo. Let me share some pointers.
Don’t be fooled by the label Slim Suit. It’s easy to get excited when reading the large tag which promises you will lose 10 pounds instantly. I’m still waiting.
Surprisingly, this tiny garment manages to suck in a lot of the fluff, and when standing in a frontal position, it doesn’t look half bad. It would be perfect if we didn’t have to move or breathe. Inconveniently, we need to do both.
Never, I repeat never, take off a wet one piece suit to go to the bathroom. If you don’t let it dry first, getting it back on could take an act of God. It will leave you breathless, exhausted and sweaty. A little like great sex only without the orgasm.
Thongs are not your friend.
Back fat. There, I said it. I don’t know where it comes from and I am not amused.
The great thing about a good bathing suit is that is pulls ‘everything’ in. The bad thing about it is that it moves it all to your upper back. It appears that I have two butts. Not awesome.
Most all women know that we look better coming into a room than we do exiting one. This is why God invented the swim suit cover-up.
They come in all colors but black seems to be the color of choice. I thought I’d set myself apart from the maddening crowd one summer and purchased a sassy little red number. I saw a picture of myself wearing this cute frock and realized that I resembled a barn and the only things missing were the cows and the sheep. Lesson learned.
There is pity little we can do about the cellulite on our thighs. Once again proof that the world is not fair. I’ve learned that red lipstick and cleavage bearing outfits help to balance things out.
Buying a bathing suit is the ultimate camouflage experience. It takes patience, stealth maneuvering and the ability to hold one’s breath. Flexibility also comes into play. It’s beyond embarrassing when you have to yell over the door for someone to come untangle you. Yes, it’s happened.
It is daunting work, which is why most of us keep our bathing suits until they are stretched out and faded beyond recognition.
Truth is, as I get older I care less about what people think of me. I saw my reflection in a store window and was startled to realize it was me I was looking at. Proof that my biggest critic is me. Not unusual for women. We are tough on ourselves.
Men shop for swimming trunks by checking the size then going directly to the register without trying it on. They have little awareness of their man boobs, protruding bellies, excess body hair and scrawny toothpick legs. I admire that.
Finding comfort in our own skin is a life quest; easier said than done. I figure by the time I’m 80 I’ll have it down.
As in life, bathing suit shopping is made easier when tackled with a trusted girl friend. Honest feedback, warm encouragement and the willingness to provide CPR if needed is something we all need. Few things are more heart stopping than getting naked in a dressing room with harsh lighting and 3-way mirrors while trying to fit into something you swear would fit your 10 year old niece.
And yet, we persist, a noble trait.
Memorial Day weekend is the official start of summer. It is that time of year when we get into the mindset of romantic picnics, summer concerts, warm coastal breezes and starry summer nights. Or, if you’re like me, your thoughts might wander to fried chicken, potato salad and lemon meringue pies. Hmm, this explains a lot.
Now, if only I could find a turtle neck bathing suit with a lovely little skirt … that goes down to my knees. Pass the sunscreen!
*this is an encore presentation … one that bares repeating. Bares … get it?