You Want me to Shave Where?
Swimsuit shopping is not for sissies.
Raise your hand if you actually enjoy shopping for a swimsuit. If there’s a churning in the pit of your stomach, then welcome to the sisterhood of ‘You want me to shave where?’
I hate shopping for swimsuits almost as much as I despise pantyhose. Is there any worse reality than standing in a department store dressing room with interrogation room lighting and mirrors that have converted me from a middle-aged woman to a squat troll? I swear if a camera adds ten pounds, these dens of horror add fifteen.
With harsh reality staring back at me, it’s impossible to deny that I not only have generous hips, but a roll or two in the middle, depending on whether I’m sitting, standing or holding my breath. And the newest outrage—back fat bulging over my swim suit.
For my next career, I’ve decided to be a dressing room designer. Perfect mood lighting that hides the flaws, wrinkles and rolls. And a mirror that will reflect a runway model’s body. I’d buy that swimsuit!
Adding insult to injury, swimsuits keep getting skimpier, forcing hair removal in places where no blade or wax should ever go. I hate one piece swim suits, too, because they are impossible to get off once they’re wet, but my body is no longer made for a bikini.
There’s always the skirt suit that my grandmother wore. Not ever gonna happen! There’s also the trick of wearing shorts over my swimsuit so no one will guess I’m covering ten tons of cellulite.
There’s a part of me that wishes I didn’t give a hoot what anyone thinks like an aunt of mine. I always considered her the female version of the Pillsbury Dough Boy. At well over fifty, she trotted out to the public pool in a bikini without a thought to her appearance. Thirty years later, I still cringe at that image, but at the same time I admire the woman who was willing to thumb her nose at convention and wear what she wanted.
So, what’s the answer to the swimsuit dilemma?
Weight loss? Exercise? Massive doses of plastic surgery? Sure surgery can probably give me a body that looks good in a bikini, but is that really the answer? Even if I were inclined, which I’m not, my pocket-book can’t afford it.
I could give up swimming. When it’s 115 degrees, not likely. My solution, find a comfortable swimsuit and work at accepting my body as it is, flaws and all. I found Michelle May’s blog, Heal Your Relationship with Your Body very insightful, but I’m still a work in progress.
Anyone willing to share their solution to the swimsuit dilemma? Or thoughts on learning to love the body you have? Nightmare dressing rooms you’ve been trapped in? Love to hear about your experiences and commiserate with you.