After the age of 21, does anybody actually look forward to buying a swimsuit or even purchase one until the elastic makes that creaking noise when pulled out of the “only used when on vacation” drawer? I’m just wondering because Victoria’s Secret sent me this email telling me that my perfect bikini is waiting for me and I’m thinking that unless it’s a new kind of floor-length model, or that they’re now making it in size GL (Gianormously Large) then it’s probably not “perfect” for me. I’d feel bad about that fact if it weren’t for my extensive knowledge of the female gender. You know – it’s a universal fact that whether you’re size double zero nonexistent to size 1 ton, ain’t nobody happy with how everything looks in a swimsuit. Heck, even some of the guys I know hate getting trunks simply because they make them see-through or put pleats over the junk so they bulge out when sitting down, or make the thigh area the size of a Pringles can.
In fact, it is my personal belief that bikini designers go into the field to seek revenge on all other human beings! They have to be a bunch of guidance-counsel-seeking, coffee-drinking, Goth-like Grinches plotting their shapes and styles. Seriously. Why else would they sell pizza slice tops the size of a mini Tortinos (not the normal-proportioned Digiorno) and think that there won’t be boob-drainage out the bottom? And don’t tell me they thought it would be attractive. Cleavage out the sides and over the top? Maybe, but under-seepage? Not pretty, even on the super stars.
And explain to me why they even make one pieces anymore. They are antiquated like VCRs and paperbound phonebooks. And ladies, don’t lie to yourself and tell yourself more fabric makes you look better. Trust me, if it sucks to your thighs like a tick to a dog’s ear it’s not gonna make you look like Farrah Faucett. Haven’t you watched What Not to Wear? Yes, I know they can shrink-wrap your gut so your boobs are popping out the top like toothpaste out of an end-rolled tube of Aquafresh, but the inconvenience of toileting in a one piece is simply asinine. Once you go tankini, you never go back, my friends.
Another question I delve into when swimsuit shopping is the atrociousness of patterns. First off, we all know a woman is believed to look thinnest in black and yet, it takes an effing miracle of God, a lightning bolt from Zeus himself, and the Zodiac to be in the age of Aquarius to find a LBS (little [I use the term loosely] black swimsuit)! Why is it that all chunky-sized swimwear has to be floral-printed? Is the thought that only elephant leaves would be bigger than our bodies? Why the hell don’t they just put mini fridges all over ‘em or mugs of Coors centered on your beer gut? It would make just as much sense. And if I could find the dumbasses who continue to put horizontal stripes on plus-sized bottoms, I swear I’d kick ‘em right in their panty lines! You have got to be kidding me! No woman, big or small, is desperately seeking anything other than vertical lines on their clothing. And am I the only one that’s noticed that the lady wearing the turquoise and brown pineapple swimsuit with the floppy hat is always the crazy one? If it’s between pineapples and topless, I’m going topless. They may say I’m sagging but at least I won’t be labeled psycho. And for the love of all things inappropriate, even I can’t handle the mini pockets strategically located over the tittus amuchus or the anchors dragging the whole boat down. Come on!
But my biggest pet peeve is the lack of underwire in swimsuits claiming to be for size D or larger girls. Is there any chance in hell that a little line of elastic is gonna hold up a truckload of fun bags? That’s like expecting a stretched out garbage bag to catch a hippo jumping off the roof. Again, I can only think it is an act of torture upon the masses for a lifetime of admiration of James Dean’s simple blue jean and white t-shirt instead of likening ourselves to the Boy Georges and Lady GaGa’s of the world. But if that’s the case, at least tell me that. Don’t tease me with underwire push-up bikinis for the thin, pretty Cameron Diaz-types and leave the fake scoop-necked dickey in my tankini! It’s just not right.
So color me turquoise and brown and label me a floatation device, but don’t feel alone when you get that email telling you that your perfect underwater gear is available for $350 today only. I’ll be right there cussing the screen with ya!