Awww....shopping for swimwear. Who doesn't love the experience of walking into a department store in January and being assaulted by the various versions of the itsy bitsy polka dot bikini prominently displayed to remind us that spring break is just around the corner? Makes you want to throw up in your mouth a little bit doesn't it?
Oh yes, spring break vacations are just around the corner and just down the road from that lay the hot summer months and long, lazy days spent at the beach. So my friends, pop a Xanax and join me under the blaring lights in the dreaded confines of the nearest dressing room and stare in shock and awe into the full-length mirror for my favorite springtime ritual ... trying on swimwear. Or as I like to call it ... having a picnic in Hell.
There are days that I truly believe that I was born in the wrong era ... the 1920's seem to suit me much better. The 1920's introduced "flapper fashion" which included looser, much more shapeless fits, knee-length asymmetrical skirts, the first patented bra, shorter hair (aka, the bob) and my favorite style of shoe ... the Mary Jane. Women didn't wear shorts and bare arms were all the rage. And lest we not forget the epitome of fashion design for this era was none other than the amazing Gabrielle Chanel ... or Coco Chanel as she is now known ... whose timeless designs have yet to go out of style.
Yes, the 1920's suit me ... especially when it comes to swimwear. In the 20's it was considered scandalous for women to be seen at the beach sporting the new athletic tank swimsuit. Which was basically a one-piece wool garment (can you even imagine?) with a high neck tank at the top and then cut down the legs to stop mid-thigh. Think "wrestling singlet" with the neck being cut at the collar bone and the legs stopping right at the knee. Not attractive ... but effective in hiding a majority of flaws. For the "bigger" girl, styles were offered with abstract patterns to draw the eye away from any "problem" areas. Which just goes to show that women have been having anxiety attacks about wearing swimwear for decades.
Imagine living in the 20's and stepping out onto the sandy beach wearing the above-mentioned "scandalous" swimwear with only your knees, calves, feet and arms exposed. Now imagine stepping out on the sandy beach wearing one of today's bikinis ... with two small patches of material at the top and a small triangle of material at the bottom revealing everything except your nipples and private parts. Which image leaves you hyperventilating into a paper bag? My guess is the latter.
But alas, we are not living in the Roaring 20's ... we are living in the 2011's and Vogue, Marie Claire and all other "fashion forward" magazines believe that all women are built like supermodels and a bikini is a "must have" for the upcoming resort season. Just as we are not all spending the cold months of winter relaxing on a yacht in St. Tropez, not all women can pack for vacation with nothing but a string bikini and a sarong. And if you can ... well, screw you.
No, the real woman finds parading around in a swimsuit about as appealing as a trip to the gynecologist. Which, in reality, I actually find a yearly pap smear to be much less embarrassing. Your in ... your out. No harm ... no foul. A season dedicated to wearing the least amount of clothing as possible, however, seems to last forever. Choosing the appropriate swimwear for the beach and/or pool is stressful ... and should be approached with extreme caution.
Rule #1 ... never shop for swimwear on a fat day. And you know what I'm talking about ladies. You wake up in the morning and you just feel huge ... even when the scale doesn't reflect an overnight weight gain of 10 pounds ... you're feeling it. Stay home.
Rule #2 ... never shop for swimwear with your spouse/significant other. Just don't. Enough said.
Rule #3 ... never shop for swimwear after consuming one or more cocktails. Yes, it sounds like a good idea. Trust me ... it's not.
Rule #4 ... never shop for swimwear alone. Do take along your BFF. She's your buffer ... and you are hers. Be honest ... brutally honest.
Rule #5 ... never shop for swimwear under the delusion that one of these contraptions is not going to make you look fat. If you are fat ... the less material a garment has is not going to hide the fact that you are fat ... it accentuates the fact. So, go in knowing that yes, you are going to look fat, and pick one that makes you look less fat than the other ones do.
Rule #6 ... if you have a great chest ... show it. And I don't mean go topless. I mean if your two best assets rest just below your chin and right above your navel ... buy a swimsuit that holds them up and displays them as trophies. It will draw the eye away from all of the other areas that are not so pleasing to the eye.
Rule #7 ... if you have a small waist ... buy a suit that accentuates it with bright colors at the top and bottom and a dark strip of color around your middle.
Rule #8 ... if you have killer legs, don't hide them in a "swim skirt."
Rule #9 ... on the same note, if you have cottage cheese legs such as myself ... spring for the "swim skirt."
Rule #10 ... realize that you care way more about how you look in your swimsuit than anyone else on the beach does. There will always be that woman who has an overload of self-confidence sporting a bikini when she really shouldn't be. There will be older women wearing suits designed for teenagers ... teenagers sporting less material than is really age appropriate ... and then there is everyone else. Just like you.
I could go on and on and on and on. We all come in different shapes and sizes and we all deserve a day at the beach. So you're not a size 4 ... who cares? I love the beach ... I love the smell in the air, the wind in my hair, the sound of the waves hitting the shore, the sand between my toes and the warmth of the sun on my pale, Irish skin. The beach is my favorite escape and short of wearing a suit of armor, my flaws are going to be exposed. And that's okay ... because I own it.
That doesn't mean that I still don't get anxiety as the season approaches and I have my picnic in Hell. It just means that the older I get, the less it seems to matter. So look the Devil square in the eyes and tell him to take a hike ... to the mountains ... because you're going to the beach.
© 2010-2011 Melanie L. Miller All Rights Reserved
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