tuckova

the last time i bought a bathing suit i was… uhm. oh, let’s not play
ladies. i was larger than i am now. so and i’m going to greece next
month and i need a bathing suit that will not be wrested from me by
a big wave. so i went to buy a bathing suit.

how to buy a bathing suit:
step 1: DON’T. look life is
short. what do you want with a bathing suit? seriously, go to the
mountains or something instead. while realizing that greece is a dream
you’ve had since you were 12, and that greece has the longest sandiest
beach of ever, and that greece is a mere plane flight away, and that
greece for 12 days is cheaper than a plane ticket to america… dude,
greece is hot. stay home. you could work on the cottage or something.

and also you, with your glow in the dark whitey whiteness, would
be banned from beaches if such banning were legal. the three of you
together are like some milky way constellation. you belong in the sky,
or possibly in some mushroomy cave somewhere. you have no business
being on the beach.
or maybe you should wear a muumuu or something, skip the bathing suit and that irritating note of rising hysteria in your voice.

step
2: okay shut up. you do some internetly clicking which is always fun
because they’re like: this suit covers up a large bust. this suit
covers up a large belly. this suit covers up a large ass. you want the
suit that makes you invisible: where is that suit? the suit you want is
the suit for frolicking in the water with your son without getting sand in your parts. you want the suit that’s for getting drunk on the
beach and stumbling back to the pension (a mere crawl from the beach!)
to play catan. where is that suit? that suit is not available in
stores, and you can’t get it by mail order either. give up the idea of
a suit that suits. you’re thinking: tankini top, and you’ll buy some
boy’s trunks and anybody that looks askance gets poked in the eye.

step 3: go to TESCO. you hate TESCO with the burning hatred of
a thousand suns, but it is somehow connected to target (the only place
you’ve bought a bathing suit that fit) and therefore you think they may
have some reasonable bathing suits. you will be wrong. they have
hideous yellow things covered in what appears to be glitter.  they have
bathing suits that make their mannequins look fat and or badly
proportioned.  they have a bikini top that you actually try on because
you like pain; this bikini top would go well with your drunk on the
beach scenario, as it gives you a shelf upon which to rest several
beers, but it is otherwise really a nightmare and it costs a ridiculous amount. they have mirrors tilted
in at an approximate thirty degree angle, presumably because restocking
is hard and simply not moving the merch is the way that TESCO is
playing its hand. they also have a peeping tom(as) in the dressing
room, which goes well with the mirrors. you feel angry, you feel
filthy, you feel weepy and punchy. you also feel like you will never
find a bathing suit.

step 4: press hand weakly to forehead.
perhaps you could make a victorian bathing suit, although that will
probably get even more askancing, and victorian ladies do not poke eyes
out.

step
5: write in desperation to sister, who has better fashion sense than
you do, and is not driven to tears by shopping but in fact actually
enjoys it. apparently your sister and your mother are happy to spend
your mother’s birthday shopping for a bathing suit for you. you cannot
conceive of a sentence that has happy and shopping in it. you are
probably a changeling. a changeling who is having a bathing suit sent
to her, though!

the thing is, while i’ve bought enough regular clothes to
have gotten over the idea of Transformation, i can count the number of
bathing suits i’ve owned in my adult life (uhm… four), and so some part of me probably is still stuck back at age 16,
all self-loathing and eternal moments. but the thing is: self-loathing
is boring, and no moment lasts forever, whether it’s a knee-melting
kiss or a creep staring through the cracks in the dressing room door.
i’ve got better stuff to do than this. for example, now that my hair’s
short, i can start dyeing it interesting colors again. and i may
require more earrings for my freshly exposed ganesha ears. also: i’m
going to GREECE next month. woot.