Last swimsuit season, I reluctantly decided it was high time I plunked down some cash to get a swimsuit that I liked.
Easier said than done.
I headed to the mall, cautiously optimistic, ready to take a deep breath, try on some suits and find one that fit my requirements.
Well, I spend a lot of time at a swimming pool in the neighborhood with kids I teach, so the suit had to be modest. There could be no leopard print thong bikini on this girl. Well, not without bizarre consequences anyway.
I prayed that it wouldn’t cost a fortune. Yeah, I know…laugh at me now.
And finally, I hoped that I could find something that looked halfway decent on my 40 year old bod.
I spent an entire day trying on one suit after another trying to modestly cover my cleavage and still avoid the “middle age woman” look.
Daunting to say the least.
Then, as I took one last dejected stroll through Macy’s, I saw it. The perfect suit for me.
It was one of those magical moments you only see in the movies. Slow motion. A triumphant hands above the head in victory gesture as the runner crosses the finish line.
It was a gorgeous turquoise blue one piece. Perfect in every way. Except that they didn’t have it in my size.
Another store in town did, so I traipsed over there to pick it up before someone else nabbed it. And I paid $100.
Yes. I spent more on my swimsuit than on the entire rest of my summer wardrobe.
More than my wine budget.
More than my allotted cash for a month’s worth of happy hours.
I had my priorities, people. And a swimsuit that wasn’t threadbare was a necessity.
So, the suit I bought was a
Yeah, just exactly like this one:
Photo Credit: http://www.cyberswim.com/
Except let me just tell you that THIS model doesn’t need quite as big of a MIRACLE as I do.
Miracle Suit’s advertising claims to make you look 10 lbs lighter as soon as you slip one on…does that mean if I slip on four of them, I’ll look 40 lbs lighter?
Oh, how I wish.
So, for me, the suit was non-miraculous. Perhaps I needed a quick prayer to the patron saint of swimwear*? Who would that be? If my grandmother was still alive, she would have known. I’m sure of it.
Even though, I didn’t have time to light forty candles at church or pray a Novena, the suit accented my hourglass shape, which still rocks it even if it’s a little bit fluffier than it used to be. These days, it’s more like a two-hour glass with a few extra minutes tacked on in some odd places.
Ultimately, I had swimwear that could be worn in public in front of grandmothers, 6th graders, and my neighbors without making me look like an 85-year-old blue hair.
I call that a
*Upon further research,
I have since determined
that the patron saint of
swimmers is Saint Adjutor.
Unfortunately, he was a man.
I don’t think he’d understand.