Or maybe it was just the simple, tentative comment from my husband: "Your swimsuit is looking a little threadbare."
I mean, just the other day, Dan was wearing a pair of boxers with a hole that exposed his entire upper thigh. If even he was starting to notice, it was probably time for a new suit.
Although I had promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn't buy new swimwear until I had lost ten pounds, I bucked up and commenced my quest for the perfect suit.
Those "Best Suits for Your Figure" articles in women's magazines always insist you can find a flattering swimsuit. Don't despair.
"Swimsuit shopping might seem like a painful and futile exercise . . ."
That was as far as I read.
Apparently the article goes on to say, "but it's possible to find a suit that fits your body well and makes you feel great by knowing what flatters your body most."
This article also suggests that you ask for "professional help," probably referring to store clerks. But I think there is a subliminal, inherent truth in that statement. By the time we women finish swimsuit shopping, we may actually need professional help.
These articles are all the same. First, you have to pick out your body type from a lineup of women whose bodies all look like they could use a couple of cheeseburgers. We (average women with average bodies) are named after fruits - apples, pears, mangoes, bananas, etc. Body type descriptions like "athletic" or "busty" are reserved for supermodels, and the term "hourglass" usually points toward Playboy bunnies.
All of these articles insist that anyone can look good in a bikini. I am here to tell you that not everyone can. I haven't worn a bikini since 4th grade, mostly - I am not ashamed to admit - because of my stomach cellulite, and there are women I would rather not see in a bikini.
As an apple shape, however, I am mostly encouraged by these body-image-shattering magazines to wear one-pieces that "whittle down the waist" or tankinis, a wonderful invention that allows apple bodies to wear a two-piece that still just looks like a one-piece. But if I do decide that I absolutely have to wear a bikini, the magazines say I can try a bikini with a granny panty bottom in order to cover my lack of a waist.
When I mentioned I was apple-shaped to Dan, he raised his eyebrows seductively and said, "I like apples."
"We're not talking about 'Bonita Applebum' here, you know, '38-24-37.' My whole body is an apple, not just my butt."
I spent several weeks shopping for a new bathing suit. I just shuffled from store to store and rack to rack dejectedly. Occasionally, I let out a pathetic sigh, watching as tiny-figured teenagers held brightly-colored bikinis up to their petite bodies.
There were suits that promised to slim you in seconds and make you look 10 pounds lighter by compressing your body. Personally, I will opt for comfort over looking skinny any day.
And have you ever noticed how these suits are made for old people anyway - solid colors (usually black), lots of ruffles or skirts to cover up jiggly body parts, thick straps, heavily padded and supported breast cups? The bright colors and cute patterns are reserved for teen girls who have not yet reached their full puberty potential or women who are shaped more like vegetables than fruits (i.e. string beans).
I did find a swimsuit eventually, a cute halter top tankini. Now I can tell everyone, "As a matter of fact, I am wearing a two-piece even though it may not look like it." (The real truth is it's much easier to go to the bathroom in a tankini.)
But I did not complete my quest without overhearing a skinny, vegetable-shaped teenage girl say, "I swear. Swimsuits are only made for girls with big boobs."
I suppose we women will never be satisfied with our bodies.
For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan
Check out more of my work in:
No comments:
Post a Comment