Today my mother took me bathing suit shopping. In all it's hellish glory, I managed to find one. This was turning over a new leaf for me as a woman. You see, previously to having Daxon, bathing suit shopping was easy for me. Dare I say fun. Anyone wanna slap me? Well don't worry I think I have a black eye for doing it myself. Now, it's a different story. Now I get it.
I worked in a swimwear store for a month years back. I hated it. I hated listening to all the constant bitching that women did about their bodies, about the bathing suits, about the sizes, about ruffles, tassels, ties and wraps. They bitched about colors, styles and prices. Instead of calling the store "Bikini Whatever", they should have called it "The Giant Abyss In Which You Can Bitch Into". Being on the receiving end of all that was just too much for my tight skinny self. Which was probably half the problem right there.
Today, I bitched. I apologized to the tight skinny girl helping me. I apologized for me, and for the rest of us. She appreciated the apology, all she wanted was for someone to acknowledge her side of the world. We hugged, and then I punched her in the face. *I keed, I keed!*
I nearly settled for a very busy, nearly hideous suit because it fit like a dream. I was very happy about the fit, but not as happy with the loud pink, teal and black large abstract floral pattern. I was not about to allow myself to stoop to that level. My mother wasn't going to let me either. Not yet at least. I was not going to settle like that before I tried on every other suit in the city. Fortunately, I didn't have to drag my mother along until she was foaming at the mouth. I only had to try two other suits until I found the one that parted the clouds, beamed down heavenly sunlight and made the angels sing.
One thing I have to bitch about before I leave you today. Tinted mirrors. Why the lies? I know I don't have a tan. Don't try and make me THINK I have a tan. It's annoying. I do not want to mistakenly purchase an over $80 dollar, non-returnable item because I was tricked into thinking my pale as ghost skin could pull off aqua-marine. Or worse, don't think that I am so stupid to actually believe that those stretchmarks magically disappeared during the walk from one store to yours. They didn't. They are there. They. Are. Still. There.
I'm certain we need to see evidence with a picture of the angel singing suit!
Posted by: Genuine | May 15, 2005 at 11:24 PM
Laura, you know what you need? A big, fat *HUG*!
God, is there anything worse??!!
Yeah, I can just see all the guys who feel our pain...think they spend hour on hour in front of a three-way mirror, checking out their ass from every angle, imagining themselves doing the walk of shame across the beach or pool-side, agnonizing over the purchase of a pair of swim trunks?
No, didn't think so... Eff them indeed.
Posted by: lu | May 16, 2005 at 12:43 AM
Damn those trick mirrors!!! They have them in all the fitting rooms, make you look great then you get home and wonder what the hell you were thinking!
I don't know why they have to make bathing suits so hideous though, really. Why not a nice simple black? If you want a design, small prints are always nice.
*BIG HUGS*
Posted by: Karen | May 16, 2005 at 07:20 AM
I'm so going to have the Genuine Swimsuit edition!
Posted by: Genuine | May 17, 2005 at 06:55 PM