The swimsuit trauma

At the best of times I don’t like clothes shopping for myself, the worst ever is buying a new swimming costume.  Perhaps if I was 20 years younger and several sizes smaller I wouldn’t mind so much.

To avoid the dreaded shopping trip I have been using my old maternity swimsuit which still fits me – not a good thing.  I want to get back in the habit of lane swimming every morning.  As I blew away the cobwebs on the swimming costume, I noticed it was looking a little bedraggled, but optimistically hoped to avoid replacing it until I had a sylph-like figure again (HA HA HA!)

And then disaster!  I caught my bad boy cat disemboweling my swimsuit.  “NOOOO!!  GET OFFFFF!”  I yell at the horrible beast, but it was too late – the swimsuit is dead.

I mentally braced myself for the dreaded shopping trip and headed to the mall.  The first shop has plenty of swimsuits that fit me … if I had an enormous bosom, but I don’t.  The flatter chested variety was pretty grim – they had me silently screaming “PENSIONER” when I tried them on, so I beat a hasty retreat.

The next shop has a much bigger selection but the swimsuits were smaller.  I finally found the rack for deluded-overweight-middle-aged-mothers-who still-think-they-might-look-acceptable-in-a-swimsuit.  There were a few costumes left – I think it was popular.  I grabbed a couple to try on.

The first one was really lovely and I eagerly pulled it on.  As I quickly winched it up over my chest I realized something was wrong.  Very wrong … I was in a vice like grip and could hardly breathe.  It seemed the swimsuit was too small, but it was now stuck on me, refusing to go back over my stomach.  Thumps, bangs and a lot of grunting emerged from my changing cubicle as I struggled to be free.

I carefully checked the label of the next costume, and proceeded with far more caution.  It fitted and looked fine.  Traumatic shopping mission completed.  I was so pleased, I forgot about the noise I had been making.  I emerged to face several shoppers all looking at me askance.  HA – I didn’t care – I had a swimsuit that fitted!

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2 Responses to The swimsuit trauma

  1. Connie says:

    Ugh, swim suit shopping. I know exactly what you mean. I hate it! Please tell me where you found your suit so I experience as little trauma as possible.

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