Kathleen McCall:
Occasional�� Muse�

2002-07-17 - 8:41 p.m.

Getting Suitable

I cleaned out the bathing suit drawer recently. Kind of cleaned it out. I got all the stuff out of there, anyway, and tried to figure out what to keep and what to throw away.

Some of it was pretty easy: if I could ball it up in the palm of one hand, if I had to search and search for the other piece before realizing I HAD the other piece in my hand too, then it could just go. Just plain go. Not worth trying on. Older Daughter is getting close to the size I was when I wore that kind of thing, and I don't even want her to SEE the suits I used to wear. Out out out.

Then there are some real Mommy suits. I went through a phase of liking those suits that have, like, shorts on the bottom. They just seemed to fit with swimming with toddlers in those giant exploding diapers. What about those suits? I'm not sure yet. They're kind of in limbo, which means I threw them in a pile on the bedroom floor. Not sure enough to put them back in the drawer, not ruthless enough to throw them in the dumpster. I dunno. I am I going to go through that phase again? I kinda still do the shirts thing, but I put them on over a tank suit now. It's kind of like I'm almost venturing out, looking forward to having enough personal hygiene time that I can actually wear a high-cut tank again, but not ready to commit to that, either. Anyway, a tank with a separate swim skirt or shorts looks slightly less frump-mama than the onesie kind. I think.

I got some weird suits in there. I got a three-piece - yeah, three pieces, so you could have your divorcee look and your Mom look, or you could be sunbathing divorced and ZZZPP!! throw on the rest of it quick when the ex pulls up with the kids. Or something. But the whole effect is completely spoiled by the fabric, which was a blue check so faded it looked like I made the thing myself out of an old tablecloth. I don't know what I was thinking. Actually, I remember what I was thinking the last three times I didn't throw it out, though. I was thinking I would get that hot tub in the back yard fixed, and I might have the kind of company which requires one to wear a suit in the hot tub, so I should keep a suit that I didn't like just in case of hot tub.

But I never fixed the hot tub, because it requires quite a bit of work and money, and because the boyfriend at the time and I had quite different ideas of the purpose of a hot tub, and his didn't require a bathing suit and wasn't all that relaxing anyway, so I was kind of unmotivated. And since my house blew up the hot tub has slipped even lower on the Fix List, and I have a feeling before it ever gets fixed I will have six more retired swimsuits if I need them. Besides, a woman who can barely remember to put toilet paper in the guest bathroom is not going to be entertaining in her spa. The bistro check can probably go. D'you think Older Daughter... nahh.

And then I found a suit, a suit that was uglier than the hot tub suit OR the mommy onesies, less suitable than the Young Woman Strategic Scrap bikinis. This was the Little Suit of Horrors. I actually remember it being given to me by someone who said, "I bought this and I can't wear it, here." I still have it and I can't wear it either. It does this squashed-grapefruit thing - women, you know what I mean. It's a suit you might hold up in the store, thinking, "That's an okay suit and since I need one TODAY, this will do," and then you get home and remove that little piece of Do Not Remove Under Penalty Of Law Absolutely No Return On Swimwear paper, and put the thing on, and think, "Woh! I am AGING here!" and rip it off and shove it in the drawer. Or give it to a friend who is not smart enough to say, "Exactly what is it about this suit that doesn't flatter YOU, because I am not likely to have any better luck with it seeing as how you are built something like a gazelle?" One of those suits. I wouldn't even hot tub in it, so why I kept it I am not sure. Perhaps it is for painting in extremely hot weather. I do have an awful lot of various outfits I swear I will use to paint in, although given how often I paint I would have to change clothing every hour while doing it to get any use out of my painting clothes.

Okay - that one went in the pile with the Mom numbers and the Immodest Scraps That I Can't Get Away With Any More. Leaving me three perfectly serviceable tank suits, more of Le Mart Du Wal's finest, and a few pairs of swim shorts to cover a multitude of sins (mostly sins of omission, although commission is hot on its heels.) I am now completely set for the rest of the swim season. Especially given the fact that I usually take the kids to the pool wearing a sun dress and sit in the shade reading a novel.

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