I had gotten away with it for five years now. But this year I was forced into it. Couldn't get out of it. I had to do the one thing that even contemplating it fills me with dread every summer - swimsuit shopping. That's why it's been four years. And I probably would've gone another four with the same old suit. (That is, until I lost these extra 25 pounds, which will be this year, I'm sure of it. I know I said that last year and the year before and the year before, but it's going to be this year. Really.) The only reason I even wear a bathing suit at all is because my four-year-old son loves the water. As it happened, we were getting ready to go to the community center pool when I noticed my five-year-old swimsuit had a mark on the top. I thought maybe my deodorant had gotten on it or something so I took a damp cloth and wiped it but the spot got bigger and bigger. I finally realized it was the fabric disintegrating! So that's what it took -my swimsuit literally disintegrating. If it had been on the side or something, I would've gone with it. But it looked like a bull’s eye right on my left boob! There was no getting out of it. I had to shop for a new bathing suit pronto. Ugh. The good news about looking for one this time of year is that they’re all on sale. The bad news is there are about 7 of them to choose from. Upon further investigation, there were several dregs, but with all the mix and match, it was nearly impossible to find a top to match a bottom, both in the right size. (Please, I'm not talking about bikinis, I'm talking about those tops that cover almost everything and the skirt bottoms. God Bless the heavy-thighed inventor of the skirt bottoms!) And it’s not a matter of the swimsuit just being cute when you're overweight. It’s all about the other two C’s: Coverage and Camouflage. Does it cover up AND camouflage my chunky bits? So I brought a few different kinds that might fit the 2 C’s rule into the dressing room and contorted my upper body in order to get them on me. Holy Cow! Who knew I needed to stretch beforehand? As if that’s not bad enough, those cardboard tags hanging off the suits are deadly! They’re like little hidden razors. I seriously almost poked my eye out by one and by the end of trying everything on, I had red scratch marks all over me. So the one that looked best on me (according to the 2 C’s rule) was also one that showed way more cleavage than I’m used to. Ok, I’m used to showing no cleavage, so this was kind of a shocker. I mean, it’s not any more than most people in swimsuits show, but for a Connecticut suburban 42-year-old mom... But I did look kind of cute in it. Well, as cute as someone with bat wings and back fat can look. So I went back out of the dressing room and found a few more and went through the contortions trying to find a more modest suit that looked as well, but I had to admit, the low-cut one looked best. Yikes. All I wanted was to take my son out swimming but now I’ve got to take “the girls” out, too? I’d already spent an hour and a half trying on every suit in my size and all surrounding sizes in the store. So I could buy the low-cut one or I could go to another store and start all over. What to do?
Out of sheer exhaustion, I am embracing my cleavage.
