The nice endless swimming costume debacle

Hello, howdy.

Swimming costumes? In February? Has she misplaced her tiny, menopausal thoughts? What a jolly unseasonal submit! Well, robust titties friends, I swim all yr spherical and there’s one thing that I must get off my chest- fairly actually. And when you don’t include me on this rickety trip then I could by no means forgive you. Why? Because I now depend you all as my emotional help peacocks and I want you to carry my hand via this very darkish and difficult time.

This is about my quest to discover a swimming costume.

How laborious can that be?

HOW CAN YOU EVEN ASK ME THAT? I AM A WOMAN ON THE EDGE.

I’m a dimension 12-14, 5 foot 8 and have breasts. Yes, breasts. Did I ask for them? No. Are they there regardless? Very a lot sure. So, common dimension, somewhat over common top and a few breasts. By my reckoning I needs to be simply capable of finding one thing to do a happy-swimmy in. And but, and but. Because so far as the world of cozzies go, I could as effectively be both a minuscule, ill-formed homunculus or a 15 foot giantess with a carcass so unwieldy there isn’t sufficient material on this planet to encircle her bloated, grotesque physique. I’ve been on the hunt for a swimming costume that I can truly…erm…correctly swim in, for years now, and my search as been as fruitless as a denuded pear tree in winter.

So what’s my beef? Well, once I, Swimmer Zero, sort in ‘tall woman swimming costume’ or ‘long torso swimming costume’ I unfailingly get search outcomes just like the one on the prime of this piece. Yes, EVERY SINGLE FUCKER is described as having ‘tummy control.’ Now class, what did I sort in to Google? Did I write that every one my solely want is to cover the freakish repulsiveness that’s my prolonged torso? Stop laughing on the again Jones, no I didn’t. So, I’ve to ask: why have designers determined that tall ladies hate themselves so fervently, so wholeheartedly, that they can not bear to swim with out being sucked in, ruched, padded, organized, separated and Lord protect us, managed?

Right, concentrate class.

TUMMY- can all of us agree that this if we have now to make use of this phrase in any respect, it ought to solely be when very babies are concerned. It’s infantilising and actually provides me the gop. Stop it instantly.

CONTROL- certainly a phrase that ought to by no means be let anyplace close to womens’ our bodies? And what occurs if I merely refuse to manage my tummy? Will it go marauding via main cities, Godzilla model, terrifying most people? Women fainting, children screaming, males combating it off? BEHOLD THE TERRIFYING OUT OF CONTROL TUMMY! It makes me consider When Harry met Sally-

S: “You can’t take it back”

H: “Why not?”

S:“Because it’s already out there.”

H: “Oh, jeez. What are we supposed to do? Call the cops, it’s already out there!”

Since we have now already established that this subject has fully unhinged me, I’m going to go balls deep. It’s DEFCON 1 time.

I need you to take a look at the costume above. Really look. Can we kind an orderly queue and agree that it’s achingly miserable? If it might communicate it could say ‘don’t fear Barbara, your wrinkly bits aren’t going to hassle anybody, as a result of we’ve focus-grouped this and we’re going to cowl up your repugnant meat sack in essentially the most smart means we are able to consider.’ Thick straps to hoik up the bazongas which can be now not up by your ears as a result of Nature had her means with you- test. Bit of ruching so as to add zhuzh (with the bonus of hiding your frankly disgusting and offensive abdomen)- test. Low rise leg as a result of we actually don’t wish to see your historic pubes- test. Modelled by a younger lass so match she’d look beautiful in a mouldy bin bag- test. A jaunty color that claims ‘don’t fear, there’s life in you but, Babs!’ Check, test, bloody test.

I’m not judging- I HAVE OWNED THIS COSTUME IN SEVERAL COLOURS. And sure, I’m shouting. This is all very anxious.

Now, when you assume that I’m above all of the ‘ole marketing malarky, then fear not – I parted with good money for the animal print beaut above, because some part of my (obviously deluded) ancient lizard brain decided that if I donned this slinky number there was a minute chance that I would look even a teeny tiny bit like the stunning model in the picture. Reader, I did not.

What that costume did do was attack me.

Because, breasts.

They are often an impediment to daily life, but they deserve their fun too.

My breasts were indeed kept in place by that costume, and pleasantly separated to boot- but every time I swam, no matter what stroke I attempted, I could feel something determinedly jabbing into me. It got worse and worse, until I decided to wield a pair of nail scissors and go for a good rummage. After effectively murdering the costume, I finally found the problem. THE INSTRUMENT OF SUFFERING was…a tit separator!

NOBODY NEEDS THIS.

And- yes I’m nonetheless going- I reallllly don’t assume that anyone wants the padding that comes with virtually each costume and bikini both. Why do my tits must look large and ‘formed’ once I swim? These material fillets take completely ages to dry and I say GET RID.

ALSO, (don’t worry, I’m starting to flag now), I think that if we can send Katy Perry into space, we should be able to devise a way to create truly chlorine resistant bathers. Mine always look like this after about three months, even the expensive ones.

So, my dear swimsuit designers. Let me be clear. I just want a swimming costume that allows me to be free but gently supported, to be able to move my body with joy and skill, to glide, float, paddle, crawl, lark and backstroke to my hearts content. I want my breasts to be softly tethered, but not pneumatically compressed. Basically, JUST LET MY AVERAGE BODY BE GOOD AT SWIMMING. I am genuinely not worried about all the things you think I’m worried about. I am truly, madly, deeply at one with all of my body parts and their relation to gravity, age, proportions and weight. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true.

To end on a positive, the costume below is the closest I’ve come to the ideal- trad Speedo with a little boob shelf. The bum on it has already gone saggy, but you can’t have everything. And yes, I am aware that I look like a minor Royal who’s about to open a regional leisure centre in this photo. It’s something just that happens to women in middle age- you start looking innately more sensible and it’s very irking.

YOU HAVE MY GRATITUDE FOR BEING WITH ME AT THIS DIFFICULT TIME.

Thanks as ever for reading and for being my emotional support birds. Please help this piece to fly by re-stacking and liking it. And if you have found your ideal swimmers then have mercy on my tired soul and let me know.