I Bought A Bathing Suit…Online

I recently bought a bathing suit…online.

Yep. I’ve become that person.
The individual who won’t take the time and energy to drive to a brick and mortar store in her neighborhood. The person who doesn’t support small businesses.
The person who…

Nope. Nothing that premeditatedly sinister has happened.
I just cannot, WILL NOT, torture myself by diving into a pile of bathing suits at Nordstroms. Or Canyon Beachwear. Or any place where the sales girl is named Amber or Breezy and is younger than the yogurt in the back of my fridge.

I’m turning sixty in a month and the one thing I’ve learned over the years (if I’ve learned anything) is that self-care reigns supreme and I’ve run out of “fucks given” —and both of those things combined spell disaster for any bathing suit within a twenty-mile​ radius.

Here’s the thing. For my entire lif, ​ I was a single-digit-size. But the past few times I’ve swallowed hard and shopped for a suit, I’ve noticed a rather horrifying pattern.

It seems that for every five years I’ve added over forty—I’ve jumped a size.

No longer can I mix and match the sweet little bottoms with the hardier, unwire bra-top. Oh no, I now require a full coverage one-piece bathing suit made of trampoline bounce-back-ability gauge spandex.

Black spandex to be precise.

No more prints, patterns or bright colors. All I ask of this garment is to hold in my jiggly bits and help me to blend into the lounge chair.

So I did the research and I found the culprit on Amazon. You heard me, Amazon.

A name brand in an optimistically low double digit size. I hit ORDER and then I held my breath. When it showed up I laughed at my own audacity. “What’s that?” My husband asked as I​ timidly started to open the box. I broke into a terrifying wild hyena laugh, embarrassed at my own hubris. “A bathing suit”, I cackled over my shoulder as I sprinted toward the bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

It took me three days to try it on. My hopes were so low they could feel the heat from subterranean magma. One suit? ONE SUIT? What was I thinking? I should have ordered five or six in three different sizes. You know, given myself some options to try and coddle my fragile ego.

But wait.

It fit.

It fit?

Well…hot damn!

But that defies all rules of the space-time​ continuum. You don’t just order a single bathing suit online and it fits! That is the stuff of legends and fairy tales. That is the stuff that fucks little girls up. That and all of that Prince Charming crap.

So let’s just keep this between ourselves. We shall NEVER speak of this again. And if you see me on the street just nod and keep walking. This is our little secret.

Carry on,
xox​