It’s a cruel summer

As summer approaches I face two horrible truths. I need to shop for a bathing suit and summer-weight pants. 

This is most women’s finest double nightmare.

All winter, I can successfully remain in denial about my thick waist, poochy gut, love handles and backside that has continued to creep south until I can now sit without bending my knees. In winter, I drape myself in forgiving wool and baggy sweaters. Then the weather begins to warm up and things get ugly.

I’m not even overweight. But in one of life’s greatest injustices, that doesn’t seem to really matter when it comes to wrapping my nether portions in something that has to button or is made of nylon and rubber.

Sure, I exercise but I have no trouble replacing and matching every calorie I might burn in my aerobics class. Hence, my body shape has remained “tres anjou.” You can’t go around shouting, “I had kids and it was worth it!” all the time. Sometimes you just want to look firm.

I’m also trying to decide, this summer, if it is worth the investment of time and money to just have my entire body waxed from the neck down. It’s not what you think. My biggest issue is my forearms. In my youth, the hair on my arms was very blonde and laid nicely flat. Somehow, somewhere between then and now, my follicles went berserk. One day, I glanced over and, to my horror, I now have the arms of a small but swarthy man. I’m still considering my options, right up to, and including, braiding or daily flat-iron treatments.

And I am still looking for the bathing suit that meets my “body type” needs. It will have to reach at least to my knees, and perhaps have long sleeves, an industrial-strength tummy-control panel, and maybe a hood to cover up bad hair and completely block the sun’s rays. OK designers. I’m waiting. And trust me, I’m not alone.

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