The Swimsuit Debacle

I have this friend who was told she needed a swimsuit for an upcoming tropical vacation. She had years of collected swimsuits at one point - but they seem to have disappeared. She thinks they went to the last Goodwill run, probably because they were so old she was afraid she'd actually wear them again. And be mocked unmercifully.

She ran across a brand called the Slimsuit. It actually has a patent and is guaranteed to make one appear pounds and inches slimmer. So my friend tried one on at the mall today. She chose the appropriate size and the color that appeared to be the most flattering.

The fluorescent lighting in the dressing room cast a horrendous yellow-green glow on skin that hadn't seen a dose of Vitamin D for months. Undaunted, she disrobed and put her right foot through the first leg hole, smugly pleased that her balance was so solid for a woman her age. Tweeting from the treadmill and EFX really has it's advantages when it comes to balance and core strength. After pulling the suit up to her hips, she felt a strong sense of gratitude.

The upper body strength training was paying off, as she met significant resistance pulling the suit up over her hips. She double checked the size to be sure it was correct. The tugging began. She became warm and a bit diaphoretic with her efforts, but she did not give up. Once the bottom half of the suit was securely in place, the rest was fairly easy. The shoulder straps of the tank-type suit felt a little snug, and as she attempted to take a deep breath, she realized that indeed, breathing would have it's limits.

She turned to look in the mirror and gasped. She had no idea that aged body could look so slim and trim and attractive. It was truly a miracle. Flat stomach, slim hips, smooth back...all encased in a suit of armor.

Unfortunately, loose skin, excess adipose tissue, and a few internal organs take the path of least resistance, and though the "body" of this Slimsuit-clad friend looked fabulous, she was horrified at the sudden appearance of jumbo armpit biscuits, shoulder pads, backfat, saddlebags, and yes, even the outpouring of frontsetts, all having appeared from the relentless compression of the fabulous patented suit. Looks notwithstanding, breathing was difficult, perhaps because of the rebar sewn into the suit to reinforce it's shape. The fabric had very little "give," reminiscent of the heavy vinyl cover she pulls and tugs to snap on the boat until her fingers bleed. And these newly acquired appendages nearly glowed neon green with the glare of fluorescent lights on that winter-white skin. She was a vision of a radioactive Michelin Man.

But indeed, the suit looked fabulous.

With the help of a shoe horn, hangers, and hand lotion, we managed to remove her from the vicious entrapment that someone dared to call swimwear. I took my exhausted friend home, we munched on carrot and celery sticks, and I helped her Google "tropical print gauze Snuggie."

Hopefully the bruises will be gone by the time she goes on her vacation. She's really earned it now.

Tea tonight: Pineapple Waikiki