LAUREL COUNTY, Ky. — Bathing suits. It’s time to talk about them. Because as I was lying on the beach last week I realized that about 0.01 percent of women feel comfortable in them and the rest of us? Well, the rest of us just suffer.
I realized this as I was watching a woman with six-pack abs and 6-foot-long legs rearrange her towel on her deck chair. Apparently, she was having an issue getting it how she wanted it because she kept spreading out the towel in the air, as you would a sheet, and draping it across the chair. Unsatisfied, she’d do it again and then again. Then, whoops, she knocked her sunscreen off the table so she beeeennnt over — little deeper, now you’ve got it — to pick it up. Then her back got itchy so she languorously scraaaaaatched, then, oooh, her legs (understandably, given their length) got stiff so she streeeeetched. Then back to the towel: fling, fling.
Throughout this process, not one cellulite dimple winked, not one piece of skin rolled or folded, not one hair emerged. Everything was perfect and, well, beautiful.
This, I think we can all agree, ladies, is what we all wish our bathing suit experience were like: comfortable, admirable. As we stand in the blaring light in the change room at Macy’s getting ready to try on the suits we’ve chosen, can we admit hope is as tangible as the smell of stinky shoes wafting from the stall next door? Don’t we all, deep down, have an unquenchable longing for these bathing suits to magically transform our bodies? The pleats across the waist will conceal, the bum will fit wonderfully, the pads in the chest will boost so, even if we don’t look like Greek goddesses, we will at least look like an improved version of ourselves. Tighter. Curvier. Smoother.