Kudos on branching out with your own blog, by the way! I’ve been toying with the idea myself. You’re courage has edged me a wee closer…

Tanya

I wear a swimsuit about twice a year – once in June when my godkids are down for the family reunion, and once in August when I’m off with some of my extended family in the mountains. I just ain’t got the figure for it.

Many years ago when bikinis first came on the scene, I went bathing suit shopping with my daughter, Joan. The store had absolutely nothing but bikinis…much to my horror and Joan’s delight.

After the second hour of Joan trying on those scanty little nothings, I brought to her dressing room a bikini two sizes larger than her normal size. Somehow I had to get more material to cover her little body. I turned around only to see one boob sticking out of an arm hole. Well, that wasn’t gonna work.

I don’t remember much more about that day. I suppose we did get one of those glorified bandades. I do remember that Joan was abnormally patient with her mom

Many years later, I want bathing suit shopping with my granddaughter, Jenn. Before it was over, two salesgirls were backing up Jenn….so a suit was bought.

I have two great-grands. I wonder who will be the old-fashioned, out-of-date, not-with-it then who will be paying the bill?

I just turned sixty and growing older never bothered me before—birthdays didn’t mean a thing except presents. But turning sixty has bothered me….A LOT. I’m finding myself checking off a list of things I’ll never do again with anything akin to joy…….like buying a bathing suit. Or sexy high heel shoes. Or skippping. Or running to the mail box—-I now DRIVE! Oh heck—–looking in a mirror even! Or evoking a whistle from a construction worker…….even an old ugly one! Bummer.

You made me think of the times I went shopping with my own girls and finding a respectable bathing suit for them. We had some of our worst fights in the mall over some skimpy bikini they wanted to own…..because “all the other girls wear that kind”. You did a lot better than I did, Tori! There was no “faint smiles tinged with a little sadness”—–only open and loud arguments accompanied by stomping and yelling. (And that was ME.) I think security was called a couple times. But we do share one aspect of this experience—–nausea. Waves of it. I finally got smart after a few years of this nonsense and called in the big guns—–“If you don’t cooperate with me and my modesty levels, your DAD is going to take you shopping for a new swimsuit. And I mean it this time!” Worked like a charm.