[font=Arial Narrow]"I have just been through the annual pilgrimage of torture and humiliation known as buying a bathing suit. When I was a child, the bathing suit for a woman with a mature figure ws designed for a woman with a mature figure--boned, trussed and reinforced, not so much sewn as engineered. It was built to hold back and uplift and it did a good job. Today's stretch fabrics are designed for the pre-pubescent girl with a figure carved from a potato chip. The mature woman has a choice- she can either front up at the maternity dept. and try on a floral suit with a skirt, coming away looking like a hippo who escaped from Disney's "Fantasia"- or she can wander around every run-of-the-mill dept. store trying to make a sensible choice from what amounts to a designer range of flourescent rubber band. What choice did I have? I wondered around, made my sensible choice and entered the chamber of horrors known as the fitting room. The first thing I noticed was the extraordinary tensile strength of the stretch material. The Lycra used in bathing costumes was developed, I believe, by NASA to launch small rockets from a slingshot. I fought myself into the swimsuit, but as I twanged the shoulder strap in place, I gasped in horror- my bosom had disappeared. Eventually, I found one bosom cowering under my left armpit. It took awhile to find the other. At last I located it flattened beside my seventh rib. The problem is that modern bathing suits have no bra cups. The bathing suit fitted all right, but unfortunately, it only fitted those bits of me willing to stay inside it. The rest of me oozed out rebelliously from top, bottom, and sides. I looked like a blob of play-doh wearing undersized cling wrap. As I tried to work out where all those extra bits had come from, the pre-pubescent sales girl popped her head in through the curtains. "oh, there you are" she said, admiring the bathing suit....I replied that I wasn't so sure and asked what else she had to show me. I tried on a cream crinkled one that made me look like a lump of masking tape, and a floral two piece which gave the appearance of an oversized napkin in a serviette ring. I struggled into a pair of leopard skin bathers with raggd frill and came out looking like Tarzan's Jane- pregnant with triplets and having a rough day. I tried on a black number with a midriff and looked like a jellyfish in mourning. Finally, I found a suit that fittted...a two piece affair with shorts style bottom and a loose blouse type top. It was cheap, comfortable & buldge friendly. When I got home, I found a label that said, "Material will become transparent in water." :chuckle
Jul 16, '04
I think this was written by Jacqueline Mitchard. I seem to remember reading it in the paper a while ago.