The Perfect Bathing Suit
by Christine Hall

 

My Virtuality articles will be like a tray of martinis; mixed stories and anecdotes based on experiences of everyday life with Parkinson's, shaken once or twice (depending on how Parkinsonian I feel) served up over ice (until the Canadian winter is over anyway)with a twist of humour or sourness depending again on how parkinsonian I feel.

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Last weekend we were lucky enough to find a last minute deal for a vacation to Jamaica. We leave next Sunday and are very excited. While surveying my summer wardrobe, I realized that I would have to buy a new bathing suit. This daunting task has been my major mission in life this week! (If you are a man, go back to sleep. Nothing has changed. You can wear the same suit that you picked up on sale at K-Mart several years ago). But if you’re a woman you’ll know how traumatic the purchase of a new suit can be.

To help you to fully appreciate the magnitude of this job, I really need to set the scene. The temperature is –19 degrees Celsius, (2 below), the wind chill makes it feel like –35. In the deep freeze of a true Canadian winter, you need to bundle up in at least five layers of clothing, clear last night’s snow and ice off your car, slip and slide down side streets until you reach a major artery that has had the attentions of a snowplow, drive to the mall and find a parking spot within half a mile of the doors.

Then there is the task of finding a store that sells bathing suits in the dead of winter. It took me about an hour to complete all of this preliminary work; I finally arrive at the bathing suit store. Now, I don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve bought a bathing suit but most you will likely know that bathing suit fashions have changed along with your figure over the last few years. You quickly realize that most of these changes have not been to your advantage. All of the size two bikinis and thongs are on the model in the store window. They are bright, colourful and sexy. The clerk took one look at me and directed me to the back of the store. “I think you’ll find what you’re looking for back here, dear. ” There, in the darkness I found all the suits designed for the “mature” body. They are not really very sexy unless you like swimming in a padded bra and skirt. There are special suits that direct attention away from or towards various parts of your body. I picked a few that looked about the right size and took them to the change room to try on. No sooner did I squeeze myself into the first one than the sales clerk came waltzing in to “see how you look”. “Hmm, you’re long in the torso.” I think it was her nice way of saying, “That suit is too small and if you continued to squeeze into it something’s going to give.” After some consideration, she left and returned with a “tall” version of the same suit.

The mirrors in bathing suit stores are all tilted, in theory, so that you can how wonderful you look from behind, but in reality so that you look taller and thinner in all directions. Even with this distinct advantage I still looked like a sausage that’s about to burst from all sides. I returned to the special section. They have suits to make your breasts look smaller, waist enhancers, suits for problem thighs, hip reducers and bulgy stomachs. But they haven’t yet made the suit that just sucks your whole body right in so you look like you did thirty years age. I learned this after trying on about forty suits. In the end I settled for a neon type of suit, so colourful that it will cause a reflective glare that no one can really look at without damaging his eyes. I also figure that I don’t know anyone in Jamaica so why should I care? I understand there are nude beaches where no one cares what is hanging out. I might not have to worry about a bathing suit and just wear my birthday suit.