How my butt dictated swimming suit choices

Somehow, after all my years of learning sh*t, I’ve discovered the best way to put closure on my way of thinking is to do the opposite of what I thought was the best thing to do.

Really?

Yeah, really?

Okay…hear me out.  You see, I’ve been struggling with thoughts of my older, less youthful bum (butt, rear, hindside, you name it…) bearing itself in a bikini on our upcoming vacation.

Who the hell cares other than me?

Nobody…including you…really!

But in reality, we humans do care a bit about what we wear otherwise we would walk around naked.  And since I’m not heading to a nudist beach for my holiday, a swimsuit of some sorts is the appropriate attire.

After a session of cyber shopping with my youngest via Skype, who told me, “One-piece suits are in Mom.”

Off I went inspired by a plan to find the perfect swimsuit.

I was on a mission to overcome my biases about needing to have a bikini that I knew I wouldn’t feel comfortable in.  It has been over 20 years since I wore a one-piece suit.  Mostly because of my self-proclaimed, tiny bladder syndrome.  The horror of thinking about having to take off the one-piece suit to expose everything every time I have to pee is mind-numbingly incomprehensible.

But…now that I’m older and wiser, my perception of my butt and my gut, in all their glory, swayed me to the other side.

The dark side of swimsuits.

Dark in that the suit covers more turf and keeps parts of me that wish to stay in the dark, well covered, and protected from exposure.

To carry out my plan, I needed an accomplice.  Mr. always comes in handy for road-tripping.  He’s forever running to the home improvement store to buy or return things.  I knew he’d be understanding when I said I wanted to ride along with him and stop at a couple of stores in close proximity to his store.

Me:  “I’d like to ride along with you, I need to return something at Kohl’s and I want to stop at Target.”

Mr:  “How long will your stops take?”

Me:  “A few minutes at Kohl’s and I’ll shop as fast as it takes you to return your stuff at Menard’s.”

Mr:  “Okay…I don’t have to go in with you, do I?”

Me:  “Nope.”

Mr:  “Deal.  Let’s go.  What are you shopping for anyhow?”

Me:  “A swimming suit.”

Mr:  “Uh, huh…okay…are you sure that won’t take a long time?”

Me:  “Nope, I promise.”

We arrive at my destination, I’m dropped off curbside at the door.  I dash in and grab a small basket to carry my purchases.  I’m in awe at the overwhelming selection.  I wander semi-aimlessly around the swimming suit displays looking for the suit I had picked out online.

Damn…no luck finding the exact one.

On round two around the area, I look for shapes that aren’t too scary.  Some are damn skimpy.  I’m too wimpy for that look.  Nope, bikinis are out!

I start to hover in the one-piece section.  I stop and look through the tankinis.  I find one that I wouldn’t mind trying – toss it in the basket and find a couple of bottom choices in the bin.

Meanwhile…the shopping trip clock is ticking away.

I’m thinking, “Good lord, girl, get a grip, just pick a few one-pieces that you might not mind trying on and hit the cash register.”

I grabbed 3 more, for good luck, right?  One has to work out.  I hate to have to return things, so thought about going into the dressing room to try them on.  But realized that I had taken 5 trips around the area.  I was positive I needed to get moving fast so I didn’t disappoint Mr. about my promise of how long it would take to do my shopping.

I add a couple other items to fill the basket and head to the cash register.

Cha-ching…$213.86.

Yikes…impulse shopping adds up fast.

Buzz…a text message from Mr.  “I’m done…”

I text back as I head out the door – “Me too!”

Mr:  “So how did it go?”

Me:  “$213.86 bucks later, and I’ve got options to try on while drinking a glass of wine.”

Mr:  “Wow…I’ll chill the bottle of chardonnay when we get home.”

Me:  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to keep all of them, I just didn’t want to try them on at the store.  I want to try them on in the comfort of our own home, with wine to drown my sorrows.”

Mr:  “Hope that means a modeling show?”

Me:  “We’ll see…”

Later on…the modeling show began…

Mr:  “Where are the bikinis?”

Me:  “I didn’t buy any?”

Mr:  “Wait…no bikinis?…why not?”

Me:  “Because I want to cover up things this time, like my butt and gut.”

Mr:  “You’re too hard on yourself, you don’t have a J.Lo butt, nor a big gut.”

Me:  “Sure, I do, look…”  I relax my stomach and give him my best 5-month pregnancy look.

Mr:  “Yikes…do you have an alien in there?…”

Me:  “No, just demonstrating what needs covering.”

Mr:  “Does that mean I should buy a one-piece too, I have a gut that expands…?”

Me:  “You always wear a one-piece, you’re a guy.”

Mr:  “No, I mean like the one you bought, the old-fashioned style ones for guys?”

Me:  “No!”  I mumble as I sip the wine and continue rotating through the options.

Five rotations later and Mr. likes the last one I try on.  We both agreed it was the best choice.  And, I’ll be damned.

I’m in love with my one-piece, my tankini, and even my old bikini.  I’ve NEVER been a multi swimsuit wearing person, and I’m now a proud owner of some wild colored swimwear to rock the beach in…(8 months from now!)

And…the moral of the story…

“It’s okay to let your butt and gut guide your swimming suit purchases.”

(Special thanks to posting inspiration by Cathi at Over The Hill on the Yellow Brick Road)- check out her post from a seriously wise-Butt perspective!