Why, you ask?
Well, obviously, the anticipation of sun and fun and cool, refreshing water is positive. This former Florida girl loves to soak up the rays sitting poolside. Not to mention the fact that swimming kiddies = tired kiddies. Dog tired! What's not to be happy about that?
But the thought of getting this winter, sun-deprived body into a bathing suit . . . well, that leaves something to be desired, if you know what I mean.
And, if you are female, you know what I mean.
Truthfully, if you even live with a female, you probably know what I mean.
So, in honor of the fact that bathing-suit season is quickly approaching(Try not to hyperventilate!), I have the following repost for your pleasure.
Suit Woes . . .originally posted 2/16/09
I am dreading this afternoon.
You see, in anticipation of my Florida adventure this week, I have to do the inevitable.
I have to bathing suit shop.
There was a time in my life where I actually enjoyed suit shopping. A time when gravity was still my friend. A time when my boobs were high and my weight was low, and the sun would kiss my skin the color of caramel. In those days, suit shopping was easy. One piece? Two pieces? Black? Blue? Red? It really didn't matter. They all looked good.
Now, there are so many considerations to take into effect when suit shopping.
First and foremost is material. Not just the quality of the the suit material, but also the quantity. In my younger days, my suits probably resembled little more than a handkerchief and some dental floss. How I ever even got out of the house as a teenager was probably a veritable miracle or the fact that my dad is actually legally blind. Take your pick. Anyway, dental floss just does not cut it when attempting to hold up boobs that have gained and lost 50 pounds with each of 3 different pregnancies. Something resembling a harness is needed to hold these old girls up. Cute little bows and simple ties can not and will not defy gravity anymore. Instead, I need something with at least five hooks in the back, something that has material thick enough to hide over aged titty hard-ons and something with material generous enough to cover the road map of veins that hide just under the girls' surface. The overall effect can be not pretty, my friends. Not pretty.
I also think that a good suit needs some properties of deception. Clearly, a good suit needs to effectively disguise any stretch marks, camouflage any cottage cheese, and use effective smoke and a few fun house mirrors. This is all in the hopes that you notice my fabulous smile, and not my fabulously drooping ass. Really, when it all comes down to it, the average woman would love a suit that acted more as a costume, giving her the body of say, Jennifer Anniston (a beautiful 40 year old) while still retaining her own head and face. Obviously, this miracle would take true magic. (And if I were the Jantzen bathing suit company, I would take notice and try to hire Penn and Teller for some product development. Just sayin' .)
Finally, when shopping a woman has to consider something that most completely forget about . . . lighting. Inevitably, department store lighting makes a woman's skin look an odd shade of green. So if the actual suit has not scared the lady sober, the sight of her hibernating winter skin will. Now, if a woman is already tan, this greenish effect is not as noticeable, but if she has been indoors for say,I don't know, MONTHS and her skin has been deprived of Vitamin D, it is not a pretty picture. That is why it is necessary to either fake bake (which I don't recommend after a few college friends forgot to remove the sanitizing strip on the bed and consequently had "This bed has been sanitized by . . ." tattooed across their backs.) or use self tanner. I say self tanner, because frankly, I prefer a shade of orange skin over a shade of green skin any day.
So, with these things in mind, I arm myself for the bathing suit battle.
Wish me luck. I'm going in.