Contributing writer
Ah, the weather has been lovely and a catalog just arrived in the mail with swimsuits on the front cover. The headline is “Confidence Around the Next Curve.” I like that!
The teenager on the cover has a white-bright smile and pencil thin hips. Barely into her second decade, she hasn’t a clue about the next curve or what it takes to love your body for 70 years. One thing we both know, when she’s my age she won’t be hawking swimsuits on the cover of a catalog.
Wouldn’t it be a hoot to see more magazines feature real women? I’ve seen this phenomenon once or twice with 50-ish models with silver (not gray) hair; but these women obviously have resources like money to hire personal trainers to help capitalize on their good bones. They are certainly not your average American woman — but then, catalogs are meant to sell to the average, not feature them.
My recently received catalog is working with me, attempting to offer solutions to my flattering swimsuit dilemma. (They know I have one.)
And what is this dilemma?
Is it that my body doesn’t look as it did when I was 19? Duh!
That my skin is sagging in all kinds of places and my hips are mega-curves?
Could it be that 20 extra pounds in the last 20 years defies gravity even with a swimsuit that promises, “All Over Control?”
How the heck do you do that?
Some of you remember the days when a woman’s body wasn’t supposed to jiggle. We wore girdles from our waist to our knees, and bras like pointy fortresses.
My grandmother’s day was even more formidable with a corset that pushed you in and bound you up so that you could barely breathe. Grandma only wore those on weekends when she was going to church.
In my swimsuit catalog, I don’t see a single man featured — not one. This catalog believes either men don’t buy swimsuits or they aren’t worrying about all over control with a finely defined waistline. Men obviously aren’t attempting to look a “whole size smaller.”
Being a practical person, I’ve worn swimsuits for two things: sun bathing and getting into the water. While one would like to look presentable, even nice, in whatever apparel is suited to the occasion, let’s get real! How much time do you stand posing against pillars or kneeling in the sand with a seductive, and I might add, “confident” smile?
I’ll tell you what I want. Just give me a suit with elastic that lasts more than one season. I love the separates that let you choose one size for the top and another for the bottom.
Please don’t offer me a suit that balloons in the water or one with fabric that goes transparent the minute in gets wet. Bright colors are nice but navy blue is still my favorite.
My mother remembered the summer her mom made swimsuits for all of her girls out of a piece of heavy Indian head cotton. It was an exciting occasion. Herington had a new swimming pool and all the Schubert girls, in their bloomers and blouses, were going. Mom never learned to swim and never wore a swimsuit after she turned 30 — maybe it was the psychological imprint of those original suits.
Forty years after her swimsuit ban, I bought her one as a surprise when she came to visit me in California. It was a modest one-piece suit with a flared skirt and a cover-up to match. I was going to take her to the world famous hot tubs in Calistoga.
“Don’t make me put that on, Patricia,” she pleaded. “Can’t I wear something else in a hot tub?”
I returned the suit and she wore an old pair of my sweats into the pool. A little girl came with her mother, caught sight of my mother and cried, “Look, that lady has all her clothes on!”
I was embarrassed but Mom didn’t even notice. She’d met a woman from Germany and they were sitting in the shallow end of the pool singing German folk tunes and having a high old time.
“Don’t worry,” my swimsuit catalog croons, “these suits are guaranteed!”
Guaranteed to look like the beauty in the picture?
Guaranteed to control my curves?
Guaranteed to please my vanity with power mesh bras, bust minimizers, hip balancers, and SPF 50 sun protection and waistbands that lie smoothly (whether or not they are bulging)?
Get real!
It’s another day in the country and maybe I’ll just use my old swimsuit this year, which is comfortable and stretched out in just the right places.