There comes a time every year where I feel my mood falter.
I wake up feeling sick to the stomach and as I step outside, I know the horrid truth: it is starting to get too warm to wear stockings and Dr Marten’s boots.
Every year when this happens, I rush to the nearest computer and type in my least favourite Google search term: “swimwear” (my most favourite Google search term is “cat eating with chopsticks”).
I have lived in Sydney for something like six years now and I’ve been to the beach probably four times. I’m not a huge beach fan, I am prone to freak accidents and I’m not sure I want to tempt a shark attack. However, Sydney is a sweat pit in summer. It gets freakishly humid, I’m talking I’ve been to Bangkok and I didn’t find it that much different to here, so occasionally a girl might like to cool off.
Swimwear shopping is fraught with issues for most women I know, and according to my friend Daniel Stone (no not that Daniel Stone, the other one) for men too, if they happen to have child-bearing hips.
According to my very scientific studies, swimwear designers only believe the following body types exist:
- Short and stacked and slim;
- Tall and slim and flat-chested;
- Short and slim and flat-chested.
For everyone else they design a token tropical-themed muumuu kaftan-esque thing in a synthetic material that is guaranteed to slow cook you in your own juices after half an hour in the sun.
This is the woman I see most often when browsing for swimwear:
As you can see, she’s very happy because she’s been able to buy a flattering pair of pink swimmers to wear to the beach this summer. Her breasts are of a size that she can look modest in swimwear. She’s never had to fight to keep her tatas covered even when doing nothing more than sitting on the sand, nor flashed a man and his two young children when exiting a water-slide (family holiday, Ballina, some time in the late ’90s).
Now, I don’t know what she’s got going on downstairs, maybe she’s a dramatic pear-shape, but I think it’s a safe bet to say she’s not struggling with life’s great ‘to boardshort, or not to boardshort’ question.
Here’s my problem[s]:
- I’m tall, taller than average so if it’s a one-piece, it needs to be long enough to avoid the danger of being sawn in half vertically;
- I have junk in my trunk. My front and back trunk. Which is a poor metaphor for being generously endowned in the butt and chest area, mostly in the chest.
- I’ve lost a bunch of weight, but not enough to be like, ‘Hey! Here is stomach skin for you, general public!’
So basically, I have a whole heap going on and judging by what I’ve found online, my options are to either spend the entire summer flashing people, or buy a wetsuit.