Welcome to my three-part series on finding a bathing suit. No need to thank me for reminding you of what you’ve been trying to forget all along – that for some of us, bathing suit season shopping started weeks ago. Which means that all the normal sized suits have flown off the racks and onto the bodies of women who can actually wear them without causing mass evacuation or charges of public indecency. But I am not ready to torture myself or others just yet, and I suspect many of you feel the same way. As with any daring feat, it’s important to cloak yourself with denial and procrastinate as long as humanly possible, or until all the lifeguards head back to college and swimming season ends.
I don’t know about you, but this winter I was forced to deal with a bunch of challenging wintry conditions involving Blizzards, Snowcaps, Frostys and other frozen fast food frivolities. Someone had to be responsible for stimulating the food economy, and I’m worn out! So I vowed it would be a cold day in June before I went back out to shovel/heave a yet another big blob of fluffy white stuff into a restrictive area, but “Winter Fat, meet Bathing Suit”. The time has come.
In the first blog post of this series, I share my thoughts on attaining a body fit for bathing attire (yours or someone else’s is up to you). Whether you are forty-the-age or forty-the-size, you’ll find comfort in knowing that you are not the only person struggling with the question of whether to head for a clothing department to suit up for the summer, or go directly to the tent section at Cabela’s. And whether your personal challenge is fitting in a bathing suit or fitting in the dressing room itself, know that you are not alone.
In the second part of the blog series, I will address the so-called “rules” of bathing suit shopping for those who are long in the tooth and puffy in the middle. I suppose if you are puffy in the tooth and long in the middle you may find something here for you as well.
In the last part of the series I will share my personal experience trying on bathing suits. That is, unless I am first spotted wearing the one I chose and hauled away to the state pen, in which case I promise to make my one phone call to Jenny Craig.