I got slapped in the face with a harsh realization this weekend. I had to go swimsuit shopping. It was an ugly, ugly day. Ugly. I had the unfortunate experience of having to take the family with me to Kohl’s while I shopped for a swim suit. Just for reference- this is a bad idea.
The swimsuit aisles were filled with women who shuffled around, muttering to themselves and shaking their head in disbelief at the tiny scraps of material that qualify as swim suits. One lady particular caught my eye as she muttered and scoffed at the choices. Dressed head to toe in black, she looked seriously depressed. I heard the words ‘Damn vacation’ more than once. I understood exactly how she felt.
Matt even took it upon himself to help me pick out a swimsuit. Now I love him but he just has no idea. The first one he picked up was a string bikini in a size 2. I stared at him, stupefied and bewildered. There is not enough string in the world, my friends. And a size 2? Great, that will cover one butt cheek. I’ll have to buy another one to cover the other butt cheek and sew them together. The second one he picked out included a teensy weensy bikini top and a thong. Really? I stared at him for a moment. Just long enough for him to realize that he was skating on thin ice. I had to ask ‘Are you new?’ I sent him off with the kids to the toy department while I shopped alone.
Thirty minutes later, I was whimpering and curled up in the fetal position narrowing down my choices. Then came the hard part. The dressing room. With the floor to ceiling mirrors and the fluorescent lighting. Who designs these little chambers of horror anyway? Probably a sadistic man. I shuffled along to the dressing room and chose a room at the very back where it was less likely for the whole store to hear the naughty words and screams of horror.
I tried on 16 bottoms and 22 tops. I found 2 bottoms that will work, and believe me, work is a very broad statement here folks. I found one top that adequately covered the girls. So I have complete swim suit and then a pair of bottoms. The second top that I wanted was sold out in my size. I could have squeezed, and I mean squeezed, myself in a smaller size or let it all hang out in one size larger. Why does this happen? The universe hates me, that’s why. I cannot face another day of swimsuit shopping. I cannot do it. Cannot do it. The day would end with the news reporter saying ‘Before hanging herself with a swim top, the crazed madwoman took out the entire swim suit display….’
Therefore, in an attempt to avoid a repeat of this horror, I will be ordering the top online. I will find a top that works without setting foot in another swim suit section. My ego can’t take it. The only thing better would be a full body wet suit, but I’d need one that wasn’t too tight. And it can’t be shiny, who needs the sun reflecting off the dimples on their butt?