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Bikini Season: Should We Dread It or Love It

© Anne Paxton

Do any of you remember the last five months? Is it true that it is May 31st? How did this happen and why didn't somebody warn me that as you get older time races by? Until about a month ago I was still enjoying the cool days of spring. I was still wearing my black wool pants and long-sleeved blouses to work. Now all the magazines in the grocery stores have titles touting, "Get Your Best Beach Butt for Summer!" and "Eight Fast Moves to a Bikini Body!" while slim and trim models wearing the barest bikinis possible smile up at my slack-jawed face. Where did the winter go? And why is it suddenly too hot for me to wear my favorite turtleneck sweater (in black, of course)? I enjoy summer as much as anyone, with weekend drives, hiking, and trips to the-gulp!-beach. Don't get me wrong I love the beach, but nothing sends me into more of a tizzy than having to decide whether I should dare to be (almost) bare in my two year old bathing suit or to just enjoy the beach in a nice shirt and shorts. I haven't worn a bikini since I was eight-years old and even then I was really self conscious about it. So what is a girl to do? Everybody says we shouldn't be ashamed of our bodies-blah, blah, blah-but let's be honest none of us are proud of the mocha frappuccinos and pizzas we've been indulging in all winter.

I've recently looked through Allure's annual article on the best bikinis for all shapes and sizes. They have suits for bottom-heavy girls, top-heavy girls, not-so-slim-in-the-waist-girls, and I couldn't help wondering why someone hadn't invented a bathing suit that flatters and hides all of these problem areas at the same time. Of course it probably means they'd have to go back to the old fashioned bathing suits from the 1920's and 30's. These bathing suits covered so much skin women might as well have gone to the beach in their corsets and formal gowns. There doesn't seem to be a solution to the ever present problem of bathing suits that fit one size-a size 2, that is.

I've been guilty of buying into the bikini-body ideal. More than once I have bought a bathing suit that I didn't fit into, but swore to myself that I would fit into by summer. You can guess how successful that was. Then something happened while I was staring at yet another magazine in the grocery store. Once again, I was frustrated by the pictures of happy beach models frolicking in the surf with their perfect bodies, when I looked up to see a woman pushing a wheelchair down the cereal aisle. A small boy sat in the wheelchair and stared at the different varieties of breakfast cereals. When the boy wanted something, his mother would have to reach up and give it too him. The spread of guilt washed through me so quickly I thought I would faint. Here I was bemoaning the heaviness of my thighs when that little boy would never have the pleasure of that worry. When I go to the beach my biggest fear would be making sure my arms didn't look too fat. While this mother may not be able to take him to the beach at all, she would not be able to sit back and watch him run up and down the beach with his friends. It reminded of all the things I take for granted each day.

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