Taxi!

Every woman hates swimsuit shopping. Except maybe those few who are a perfect size 6 and everything fits them perfectly. If that is you, we all secretly hate you (don't worry, we'll always be nice to your face). There is one thing worse than swimsuit shopping and that is swimsuit shopping with a man (rule #1). I made this unfortunate mistake before leaving on a recent vacation. Swimsuit shopping rule #2 is never go when you actually need to buy a swimsuit or are working against a deadline. You will find yourself squeezing into a top that is two sizes too small and trying to hold up some bottoms that are two sizes too big because they happened to be the only two pieces that matched on the sale rack. This is never a pretty picture. My hope is that you learn from my mistakes. I made mistake #1 and mistake #2 at the same time. First, I only asked my husband if he wanted to go shopping with me because I really just didn't feel like driving. If a taxi or city bus had pulled up in front of my house, I would have hitched a ride. That didn't happen so I settled for a husband-chauffeur. The difference is that a chauffeur waits in the car and doesn't say a word about what you buy. A husband does not. Fortunately, the husband is trainable. Unfortunately, I had to be the one to train him. There are some fundamental rules of swimsuit shopping that men need to learn. They are:

#1. Do not make suggestions. You are not supposed to have an opinion.

This is hard to teach. In the first store we stopped at, Husband-Chauffeur thought he was supposed to help me shop. He pointed to a white, crocheted, bikini and suggested I try it on. When I refused, he asked me why. Why? Because it is white, made of yarn, and smaller than the potholder I knitted at Brownie camp in 3^rd grade. His second suggestion was refuted with an explanation of my bikini top minimum padding requirements. A blank stare was all I got in return.

#2. It doesn't matter how many swimsuits I already have.

Throughout the day, Husband-Chauffeur repeatedly commented about the fact that I already have a swimsuit. "Don't you already have a swimsuit? Why do you need another one?" he says. "Didn't you eat dinner yesterday? Why do you need to eat again today?" I reply. I finally tell him that I don't have a swimsuit at home (maybe I did, but not any I like). As he took a seat in the man-chair by the dressing room, I heard him ask the guy sitting next to him (AKA Mr. I've Been Holding This Purse For Two Hours) how many swimsuits women typically have. The two of them attempted to apply logic to the female swimsuit phenomena. This kept them busy for quite some time. I heard them discuss how they each only have one, maybe two, pairs of swim trunks. They don't realize this is only to prevent them from getting confused. When it is hot, you wear pants that only go to your knees. If you want to get wet, wear the pair with the Hawaiian print. If not, wear the khaki pair. Can you handle it? I finally exited the dressing room and Husband-Chauffeur asked if I liked anything I tried on. I told him I did, but for the price of the swimsuit it should come with breast implants and liposuction. He appears worried and tells me that I can't go on vacation without a swimsuit. I tell him not to worry, I have other swimsuits at home I can wear.

Once we completed Swimsuit Shopping 101, I suggested Husband-Chauffeur and his opinion go browse the electronics or men's clothing department. He said "No, I don't really want to." I said "Oh yes you do." I was finally free.

I quickly scan the teenage two-piece section and pass it up for the more focused swimsuits. I start on the "enhancing" rack and grab some "add-a-cup-size" bikini tops. I've decided to hold off on the one piece suits until I reach the "comfort shoe" phase of my life. I'm not quite there yet, but I know it will creep up on me like that one chin hair that suddenly appears out of nowhere (if you don't think you have this chin hair, look again, my friend). When it does, I'll embrace my black one-piece with the attached skirt. Until then, I'll painfully hunt for a bikini. The "add-a-cup-size" bikini top has so much padding I think it meets regulation requirements for a life vest. Guess I won't be needing my Water Wings. However, I might not want to spend my entire vacation floating upright like a foam noodle. I move on. Next I try the push-up bikini tops. Great idea, but I think you are supposed to have something to be pushed up. It's too bad my ribs are exactly where I want them. I decide to follow the rainbow to store #2. It appears the new styles in swimwear involve a lot of metal beading and decoration. Is this supposed to be an IQ test? Maybe a white, crochet, bikini is meant to be worn indoors, but most people I know wear swimsuits outside when it is hot. I'm no scientist, but I've put on my seatbelt on a hot day a time or two and I assure you that metal gets very hot in the sun. The last thing I need is a third degree burn shaped like a metal hoop in the middle of my add-a-cup-size life vest to give me that summer glow. Perhaps the pot o' gold is at store #3. I barely get inside when Husband-Chauffeur calls and says he found a swimsuit for me. He tells me in which store he made this wonderful discovery and adds " a lot of younger girls shop here, so the swimsuits probably have a lot of padding." Hmmm. How much is a bus ticket, again? I suppose I could go buy some comfortable shoes and just walk home….