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Archive for May 30th, 2008

Our kickoff party for Vacation Bible School is coming up soon, and it’s being held at a local private swim club.  Because this year I am forcing Spawn to go to VBS (hey, if I have to be on the snacks committee for it, the kid is going), we will be attending the party.  Spawn will be all over this, because the kid has talked about nothing else but going to the pool for going on two weeks now. 

But I — I have to find myself a decent swimsuit. 

This is the part where I say that you men out there have it pretty easy in the swimsuit department.  Your choices are fairly simple and straightforward — trunks, Speedos, board shorts.  It’s one format, basically.  But women’s suits are so much more varied, as are women’s bodies and the perceptions women have about their bodies.  It’s a minefield. 

I bought a swimsuit back in January before our big trip, and since it was January I had to make do with what I could order off the Land’s End website.  There was nothing to be had at the mall.  So I closed my eyes and took the plunge, and while the suit I bought was a very nice suit, I can tell you with reasonable certainty that swimsuits are best purchased in person. 

I will be the first to admit that I am pretty picky about things such as swimsuits.  If I had a rockin’ bod it would be a different story, I’m sure, because I could throw just about any old thing on and it would look great.  And my pickiness in this department reaches back pretty far, back to the days where I was flat-chested and in desperate need of something, anything, a miracle, to give the illusion of boobs.  Now that I’ve got that base covered the focus has moved south and I’m trying to disguise a no-longer-flat stomach. 

I’m not a big fan of parts of me hanging out, either.  One of the things I don’t do well is that girly, ladylike posturing thing, the graceful strolling and artful posing that comes with the territory of being womanly.  I mean, I do okay, when the occasion warrants it, but I like to enjoy activities without having to worry about adjusting my clothing. 

Then there’s the issue of color.  Let’s face it, there are colors that I just can’t wear.  I’m a white chick.  Really white.  Certain colors make me look anemic at best.  And then there are the colors I can wear, but the tones need to be at a certain level or those colors don’t look good either.

So to recap:  ample boob coverage, stomach disguise, no weird cuts, pleasant color.  Should be a piece of cake, no? 

Gah. 

— Mox  

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