Today I bit the bullet and went bathing suit shopping. It was just as horrid as I thought it would be, and then some. Plus it was raining. No, I don't look any better in the sunlight, but I didn't need the weather to encourage me to be a bitch all day.
I live in a very small city. I am a large lady. Those two things combined to make shopping difficult. One one hand, I only had 3 stores to be humiliated in, on the other hand, I only had 3 stores to search in my quest for a Miracle Suit. And one of those stores was WalMart.
A Miracle Suit would fit, of course. It would be the correct length and girth, and would not force me to choose "able to breath but have wrinkles and rolls of fabric left over" or "no excess fabric to bunch up on my tummy rolls, but I'm going to pass out any minute".
The Miracle Suit would come in a colour/pattern other than basic black or turquoise and fuchsia flowers. Seriously. Who needs giant tropical flowers on their boobies? I am far too pasty white to wear solid black, but I refuse to look like drapery from the 60's.
A good Miracle Suit would support my boobs (in a wonderful, cleavage enhancing way, not in a strapped down to my ribs kind of way), would cover but not draw attention to my ass, hold in my stomach rolls, and would give me shiny white teeth. And a tan. Maybe my hair could be longer, too.
I did not find a Miracle Suit today. But I did find a bathing suit that doesn't make me cry, and didn't cause my husband to laugh out loud. I wore it to the pool this afternoon with Hubby and the kids. Turns out, Boy Terror could care less what I'm wearing, so long as I am in the water with him. Girl Terror was thrilled because my new suit is blue! Her favourite colour! We could be twins!
I saw a lot of parents at the pool today, with their little cutie patootie kids. Some of the moms sat in the chairs outside the pool area. A few of the dads were playing in the water, tossing around balls and kids. But the happiest parents, by far, were the two middle aged, pudgy, white folks, plopped down in the kiddie pool, with no regards to fashion, laughing at the red-haired Terrors.