There are some aspects of a girl's life that are just plain unpleasant. There's childbirth, and menopause, and mood swings... but that's all natural. The real pain, as I have come to find, comes from the tediousness, and the frustration, and the fatigue from... swimming suit shopping!!That's right folks. I forgot in my bitter little rant the wretched and much dreaded swimming suit. The fact that I must soon bare my lily white and jiggling thighs to the entire world has completely slipped my mind. That is, until today.
Standing in front of a cold dressing room mirror, I look at my image reflected in the glass. Somehow I have tricked myself into trying on a disgusting little suit with big ugly polka dots. It accentuates all the wrong parts of my body and makes my face look green. Or maybe that's just the lighting. This is the third store I've been to today. My feet hurt. I am dragged onward... next stop....
Malls and superstores. Huge signs announcing sale after sale after sale-- it all becomes a big whir of color and fluorescent lights and too strong perfume. Somehow I have managed to spend all my swimsuit fund on other things: lotion, a shirt, some shorts. I look at the miles of racks ahead of me full of elastic wastebands and bold colors and want to vomit. No more!
The day progresses. It grows hotter, and hotter. As I walk outside to my car, I can hear my hair sizzle and I begin to feel the skin melt off my face. Step after step... dragging, reluctant, we arrive at stop number seven. Nothing. There never is anything.
Swimming suit shoppers always settle for second best. Not even second best. Third, or fourth, or fifth... by the end of the day one is so tired, one loses all desire to find the perfect suit. This is wise thinking, because it doesn't exist. It is always too short, or too bulgy, or it has a neckline that plunges down to the bellybutton. Any way one wants one's swimming suit, one can be guaranteed that a frantic day of last minute shopping won't find it.
I knew it was time to leave when I was publicly examining my gluteus maximus in a hideous rainbow bikini bottom, and a young man came towards the mirror with several shirts in his arms, caught my eye, and quickly headed in the opposite direction. Upon further inspection I discovered that I had unknowingly wandered into the Men's dressing room. So much for being a 'shopper girl' and knowing my stuff. The truth is, I have no idea what I'm doing. The young man is a witness to that fact.
So I bought the rainbow suit. I justify my actions with the rationalization that it was on sale. Pay no heed that I look like a colorful monster or an overgrown care bear when it is on my body. Just take into account the sacrifices and the pain I had to endure to find the perfect, not so perfect swimming suit.
6 comments:
My dear, I am so sorry. I can feel your pain but can't help but laugh at your wanderings into the male dressing room. It just comes to show you that swimming suits are over rated. All the girls from long beach didn't know what they were getting us into when they stood for showing more skin.
What's this!?! Daphne has a blog? Well well...
Jos, I too laughed at your wanderings into the male dressing room. Especially because you weren't really wearing clothes. I'll let you in on a secret here. To avoid the stress of swimming suits, where clothes over them. That's what I do. Just throw an old shirt and shorts on over the suit, and then you don't have to worry about anything!
How right you are Daphne! Surely if they had known the pain we endure when we show more skin, they would not have created such a stir.
Brittany, I find that wearing clothes over my swimming suit is a much more comfortable way out. I was however, not so especially thankful for shorts when I was attempting to waterski and they slipped from my hips and landed somewhere around my ankles.
Thank goodness my bottom was elastic and skin tight!
Let me clarify the last sentence of the previous comment: thank goodness the bottom part of my swimming suit had elastics and was not so loose as to fall off like my shorts.
How bizarre!
no one, no living, breathing, ice cream consuming homo sapien, looks good in a rainbow swimming suit. NO ONE.
Except for you sweetie pie. Wink, wink.
I figure I looked pretty hot in rainbow when I was two years old, maybe things haven't changed.
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