Water Boarding, Pulling out fingernails one by one, swimsuit shopping
If you said they're all forms of torture, then you win the prize! (Not an actual prize, but one of those self congratulatory pats on the back kind of prizes.)
For an hour this past weekend I was tortured. No, I didn't suddenly find myself in the hands of some North Korean prison guards. I found myself in two department stores trying on swimsuits. Ugh.
I've needed a couple of new swimsuits for about a year now. We go swimming a lot and mine are worn out, as in the little elastic bra thing in the top of my tankini top is no longer elasticky. I thought I'd take advantage of the Memorial Day sales and get a couple of new suits. Ha! Little did I know that no one makes a decent looking suit for a petite mom of three who can't seem to get rid of her pooch of a belly.
Because he truly has a good eye for what looks good on me, I brought Ryan along. He sat in the "husband chairs" (you know, the chairs right outside the ladies' dressing room), held my purse and shared his opinions on the dozen or so suits I tried on. To his credit, he didn't once comment on the jiggliness (hey, if Sarah Palin can make up words then so can I) of my thighs. He did raise an eyebrow to a couple of the more revealing suits.
I discovered a while back that I look best in v-neck clothing so those are the suits that I gravitate toward. For some reason, swimsuit designers seem to think that women who like to wear v-necks also like to show their wares to every Tom, Dick and Harry. You know what? Not all of us want to show that much boobage....some of us just like v-necks!
So, anyway, the only suit that really fit me was a blue plaid tankini with, I am not kidding, ruffles on it. Yes, ruffles on a grown woman's swimsuit. Really? I felt like Elly May Clampett and vetoed it immediately. Who in the world wants ruffles around her hips? Doesn't that just scream, "Look how wide my hips are!!"?
I don't know what I'm going to do. I really don't want to wear my old suits anymore. I know kids are often embarrassed at how their moms look in their swimsuits; mine are so bad, I'm embarrassed for myself. I also don't want to torture myself any further by trying on any more of them.
How hard can it be to design a decent, dignified yet cute, swimsuit?
If I'm going to wear something that amounts to, let's face it, underwear that is worn in public, I've got to have some standards.
And apparently current swimwear designers have no standards whatsoever.