Does a swimsuit count as an outfit?
This blue bikini was the first two-piece I’ve worn since I was a toddler splashing around the wading pool in Grandma’s back yard. I felt really daring when I ordered it online eight years ago. One, because it came from Victoria’s Secret, and I don’t have the right curves to pull off much from their catalog. Two, because I’m pretty modest; never had so much of me seen the light of day in public.
The swimsuit made me feel good the second I put it on. It had laces I could adjust on both the top piece and the bottom to get just the right fit. Not too tight, not too loose. No weird bulges. No cheeks hanging out. A little padding so I didn’t look like a boy. I’ve never had a great deal of body confidence, but it shot up considerably in that bikini. Doubly so when the hubby registered his approval. So much so that I was willing to walk the Jamaican beaches without shrouding myself in an oversized cover-up.
Eight years have passed, and two years of over-indulgence in
Carb Heaven England (every piece of lasagna comes with a side of chips and garlic bread) mean that no amount of lace adjustment is going to make it okay for me to set foot on a public beach in my bikini now. Too tight. Weird bulges. Cheeks everywhere.
But the little blue bikini is tucked away safely in a drawer, because in my mind’s eye I see myself wearing it again. A little more time in the gym, a little less pasta. I just can’t let go of something that made me feel so good.