Friday, July 10, 2009

The Swimsuit Wiggle

There are a lot of things I love about swimming. The sunlight, the sparkling water, the absolute weightlessness of floating in the pool. Then there are the things I don't love.

Bathing suits. Bathing suits for the zaftig woman When you find one that fits, you grab it immediately. Almost all of them have stretchy underpinnings that help you suck in the gut. And that's wonderful when you're pulling it on over your hills and valleys when the suit is bone dry.

But occasionally, you have to make that emergency trip to the ladies room. Obviously, the suit has to go. And the trip down to the knees is pretty easy. However, the return trip requires what I call the Swimsuit Wiggle.

First you pull the suit up as high as it will go. Then you gather it up in your hands (one hand on each side) and tug while wiggling your tush (and most of the rest of you). It's roughly like trying to put on a wet girdle.

It wouldn't be bad if you had room to maneuver, but if you recall the reason for taking off the suit in the first place, you'll also realize that you're most likely standing in a tiny stall with zero room for movement. So while you're wiggling and jiggling and tugging on a darned suit that's sticking to your skin like it was superglued on, you're also whacking your elbows on the walls... the toilet paper holder... the door... and hoping that you don't slip on the wet floor and end up spreadeagled on the toilet.

For some ungodly reason, the bathroom/shower room is freezing--even in the height of summer. Goosebumps ripple over your jiggly curves giving the Swimsuit Wiggle another dimension.

Eventually, you either end up with the suit slithered in place--or you call for help. I seriously considered calling for my granddaughter to come and help me dress and that would have been the final humiliation. But just as I was almost ready to give up, the suit let go of its iron grip on my cellulite and snapped into place like a rubber band.

Dignity almost intact, I returned to the pool determined to never ever go swimming again after drinking an entire bottle of water!


Excellent beach reading!!! Lonestar Lycan by Regina Carlysle is available today. This is wonderful. Don't miss it!

She came to dusty west Texas to bury the dead. But one look from Joe’s smoldering eyes made Quinn Harlow grow wet and needy. The cowboy was too big, too sexy, too everything, and more man than she’d ever had before. Though she was just a visitor, her heart begged her to stay and find her destiny with him on these desolate plains.

Joe McKinnon, alpha of the Wolf Creek pack, takes one look at his destined mate and knows he’ll have his hands full dealing with the sassy female. A single glance has his cock going hard. One touch has him willing to move mountains to claim her. He knows it won’t be easy to tame the woman who holds his future in her hands.

Reader Advisory: Includes a scintillating M/F/M ménage scene. Enjoy!


  1. We're boardies (boardshorts) and a solar t-shirt and problem solved - easy to remove and they cover all

  2. Oh yeah--HATE plus-sized swimsuits. Have one I loved when I bought it, but then the armor-plated underpinnings got crushed in my suitcase and it's had dented boobs ever since. Sigh.

  3. YEESH. Hate dealing with a wet swimsuit...especially when you carry extra 'poundage'. So lucky I have a private pool. I throw on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt and I'm good to go.

    Thanks for mentioning Lone Star Lycan, hon.

  4. I'm sorry. I can't help giggling. But having done the wiggle myself I figure you'll forgive me.

  5. I have a bikini that I picked up in Costa Rica and it is one of the nicest bikinis I've ever bought, however, most of the time, I swim in my burkini - that's a suit I bought off a Muslim website. This is a one-piece and goes from mid-thigh to shoulder - you can buy burkinis with full coverage too. It's just that when I really want to swim for exercise, I don't want things moving up...moving down...shifting around. I love my burkini and I love shopping for swimsuits online because there is nothing worse for a woman's ego than trying on a swim suit in a store.