Suit Up

Last week, we were in the Bahamas where I had an unfortunate incident involving my bathing suit and my sunblock.  Apparently, the higher the SPF, the more corrosive the lotion.  Who knew?

It actually ate my suit, which makes me sooo happy that I have been slathering it on my skin for the last umpteen years.  Hmm, so I guess I can either opt for skin cancer or having the top six layers of my skin dissolved by helioplex.  Great.

When the (new) lotion began attacking suit number two, I figured it was time to either look into purchasing a new suit or find a nude beach.

Finding a bathing suit in the Bahamas;  how long could that take?  Two, three minutes?

Yeah.  Right.  If you have the ability to tan, are sixteen and weigh sixteen pounds and/or love bling, you're in luck.  Otherwise, not so much.

I began at the hotel gift shop.  Where they had a huge selection.  Four.  Three of which could have been sewn together and still not have made a large enough suit to cover what needed to be covered.  The fourth suit was a one-piece;  however, it looked as though it had been designed by a five year old who had been left unattended with a Bedazzler and a stack of Disney princess movies.

So we walked down the street to the little shopping area where I felt sure I would find a suit.  And I did.  Lors and lots.  Of  itsy bitsy teenie weenie bikinis.

I get that for most people, the purpose of lying on the beach is to get a deep, dark tan with as few tan lines as possible.  More power to them.  They are fortunate enough to have shades of beige and brown among their skin color choices. 

I, on the other hand, have two choices:  white and red.  For me, the purpose of lying on the beach is to see  if I can get someone to bring me many frozen drinks with little umbrellas in them to help me forget that I am baking in the sun under an umbrella, awning, three towels and a big hat.  I need SPF 60 just to make it from my room to the chair without resembling a lobster.

So when it comes to swimsuit style, more fabric is definitely the way for me to go in terms of sun protection.  Actually, more fabric is pretty much the way for me to go regardless.  At my age, there are just some things that are better left to the imagination...or left to someone with a severe astigmatism who has lost their glasses.  Something that I could fold up and stuff in my pocket with room left over for my wallet, keys, cell phone, ipod, tissues and make-up was not going to cut it.

My next stop was a neighboring hotel where they have a shopping arcade.

Bingo!  I found a suit right away, and it was on sale.  Oh lucky day.  So it was bright orange and I would look like a traffic cone, but at least it was made with more fabric than is in a Barbie outfit.  So it was four sizes too big.  Wait.  Surely, there must be other sizes or colors.  Frantically, I pawed through the racks.

How about yellow, and I could look like Big Bird, or bright green and I could be a beanstalk?  Nope.  All they had was the one orange suit and then lots of bikinis and a few one-piece suits that glittered so much I would feel like the mirror-ball trophy on Dancing With The Stars.

Finally realizing that I was going to have to bite the bullet and go into Nassau, we hopped a cab and decided to make a day of it.  And it did take pretty much all day.

Shop after shop, it was the same.  Suits that were made for sun worshippers or someone with a lot fewer inhibitions than I have.

No, I did not want to look like a french maid, cowgirl or pole dancer.  Seriously, do you have a lot of call for this stuff?  Are people flocking to your store to buy something that when you get it wet is going to look more like body paint and less like something you can actually swim in?

And what's up with the big gold medallions and rings and decorative chunks of metal replacing good old-fashioned ties and straps?  I wasn't aware that Mr. T was competing against Esther Williams in the swimwear business.

Not that there is anything wrong with a little style and flair, but how about when all that metal heats up in the sun?  That's gotta feel good.  Sort of like a cow at branding time.  I can just imagine hopping out of my suit in the middle of the beach as the neckline begins to glow red hot.

And didn't I read somewhere that sharks were attracted to shiny things?  What sick designer thought it would be a good idea to wear something that would attract a predator?  Perhaps they also have a line of clothing made of raw meat for people who go on safari, or one made of fresh sheepskin for those who like to go hiking in wolf country.  Pass.

And so, at the end of the day, I left empty handed but with my modesty and skin intact.  We did make one final stop though for a bottle of Woolite so that I could help my two remaining suits survive our vacation.