Suit Yourself

The style section of my local paper tells me it’s time to shop for a swimsuit. I can think of nothing in the world that I want to do less than shop for a swimsuit. I would rather go to the dentist than try on bathing suits.

According to this article, I should pick a swimsuit that shows off the parts of my body I like and hides the not-so-good parts. Using this strategy I’m left with searching for something that shows off my hair or my nose or maybe my hands because the “not-so-good parts” are pretty much anything torso-related from my neck to my knees. This is not sounding like such a good idea.

Another suggestion is to “bring along a true friend; one who will honestly tell you how you look in that suit with the boy shorts.” Frankly, I wouldn’t put any of my friends through this unless they were really depressed and in need of a good laugh. Or, “find an honest salesperson who understands the product they are selling.” Just what does a salesperson need to understand about a swimsuit? Are we talking tensile strength here? Must salesladies memorize statistics on the amount of fat spandex can hold in for any particular swimsuit?

This season it’s all about vibrant colors, prints, and one of the biggest trends in bathing suits is metallic gold. Seems to me the last thing anyone wants to see is a large woman heading for the water in a metallic gold one piece — that’s not a swimmer, that’s a rhino coated with rustoleum.

Think I’ll skip the beach and head for the mountains.

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4 thoughts on “Suit Yourself

  1. I agree. I would rather go to the dentist than find something to wear in the water…There isn’t anything that I want exposed and I don’t want to live through having people to pay for me to put my clothes back on lol…

  2. I think I’ll just continue to wear tank tops and cut-offs when I’m at the beach – that’s enough skin showing, thank you. *grin*

  3. It took just three words to send me back in memory to summer, 1937 and to a large lake in the center of Barberton, Ohio: swimsuit and, boy-shorts: the kind that showed the merest bit of bottom, and at a time when bathing suits were cut to cover the entire rear end of girl’s body. What a summer that was! What an ego-trip! I was the only girl the life guard permitted to be on the platform with him, at least while I was at the lake. Now that I’ve done a bit of bragging, I’ll come down off my perch. He dated me just once. I remember we walked to a movie and back to the house. I have an idea my hunk of a lifeguard quickly came to the conclusion that I was not the siren he imagined me to be while showing off at the lake. If he kissed me goodnight, I have no recollection of him doing so. He didn’t ask for another date and I no longer went swiming in Barberton.

  4. Mary – I’m glad I was the catalyst for such a lovely memory! *hugs* Linda

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