Be Afraid, Very Afraid

Never mind that we are still knee deep in snow and that the ground hog threatened 6 more weeks of winter.  Fear not the reflection in the mirror of the blinding non-tanned areas of your body.  And forget the fact that the diet you were supposed to start  January 1 is lost somewhere between the cinnamon rolls and the chocolate cake you just had to have.  Yes, it is once again time when truth stares you in the face and no matter how hard you try to suck it in, the body will not cooperate and the reality is if you indeed want to put ‘this’ body in ‘that’ little bit of fabric, the time is now to do something about it.

You guessed it; the swimsuits have arrived in the catalogs, on the retail racks and on the dreaded SI front cover.  In this time of year, when winter drags on and spring seems like it will never come, someone, somewhere, decided to have fun and create havoc in the minds of women.  These are not nice people.  They are folks with a distorted sense of humor who have enormous holdings in spandex company stock.

But as Pavlov rang his bell and his dogs responded, I, too, react to this annual ritual of swimsuit shopping.  I first noticed the swimsuits hanging in the store two weeks ago.  I cautiously glanced, just to become aware of this season’s trend in color and then quickly diverted myself over to the racks that held my favorite obsession, black turtlenecks.  This week, while shopping, I decided to move in for a closer inspection.  One price tag was over $120 for less than 1/16 of a yard of fabric, tied with two strings.  Not my color, so I forged on.  Looking for a more “mature” style that would push me up, hold me in, give me the appearance of being thinner, make my legs look longer and in a color that minimizes my surface area but could maximize other assets, presents a much grander challenge than one would think.  If you find a suit that you think fits one of the criteria it falls short on the other ones.  You narrow down your choices and with all the courage of the cowardly lion, you head towards the dressing room of the fine emporium to see if you have found a winner.

With the oh, so flattering fluorescent lighting of the dressing room, the shock of the close-up backside view and the small, confined space it is truly difficult to get the full perception of how you will look lounging lake side (rear firmly entrenched in the chair) with your friends or loved ones.  Dreading going out to look further and realizing that this is the year you probably should start covering up more as to not be fried to a crisp and suffer skin problems, you pile back on your winter comfort clothes and head out satisfied you did your best.

Besides, your four-year-old swimsuit isn’t that faded or too out of fashion (that black one piece was a good purchase).  You’ve gotten it stretched out just perfectly without riding up on you when you don’t want it to.  And, you do have that cute little beach cover up that matches it so well, makes you remember the great time you had when you bought it on vacation and is perfect to run to the grocery after the day at the beach.  Sounds like I don’t have to look any further, I found my winner… I’m ready, bring on the summer!

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life. Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-