The time has come to put the dream to bed – I’ll never go out in public again in a bathing suit. I refuse to subject the general public to the sight of my lumpy body in Lycra.
Oh, yeah, I know you are saying they make suits in all sizes and even blousy ones with skirts. Nope. Can’t do it. I’ve walked too many times on the beach looking at my feet so that I didn’t have to see the old ladies with their elephant skin walking past me. (Shudder.) I will not be one of them.
Lest you think I’m giving up too much, let me point out that I don’t swim. So “swimsuit” is really a euphemism for an outfit that is beach or poolside appropriate.
As long as I stay out of the water I do have some options. Capri pants have given me an option to shorts, and self tanning lotions have allowed me to reach a level of modest beige that offsets the white cellulite in my legs and arms.
The other advantage of Capri pants (which are probably no longer called that, but whatever), is that they cover the road atlas of veins my legs now have. (There is no self tanner that totally covers purple and blue streaks.)
And if I keep my arms close to my body then the bat-wings under them are not as obvious, so I can get away with short sleeves – maybe.
Mostly I’m just waiting on fall and praying for another cold winter – turtlenecks, sweat pants, and heavy coats!
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