Friday, July 7, 2006

But would it look good on the Pillsbury Doughboy?

Well, another Independence Day has come and gone. I celebrated this one like a true blue American -- I supported truth, freedom, and The American Way by spending money. I love capitalism. The best part is, I purchased some swimsuits, and it was painless. Yes, I've learned the secret to happy swimsuit shopping: buy online. That way, you avoid all the nastiness of bright dressing room lights and those bothersome mirrors and later having to confess your sin of thinking evil thoughts about the size 3 employee because you know you could use her swimsuit as a bandana.

Of course, I still have to actually try the swimsuits on once they get to my home, but I have a plan for this, too. I figure if I don't turn on any lights, and don't look in a mirror, I can continue to deceive myself into believing that the swimsuit looks as good on me as it did on the catalog model.

Have you ever really studied the figures of those catalog models? Good lawdamercy, they could hide behind a saltine cracker turned sideways. And their thighs don't touch each other. AT ALL. This is just not natural. Normal women have thighs that are like conjoined twins - they've never known a day when they weren't snugged right up against each other.

And what's with the little icons in the catalogs, the ones that are supposed to show you which suits help hide particular figure flaws? You know, the little triangle for the suits for women with wide hips, or the little rectangle for women without a defined waist. And then there's the infamous little star, which supposedly means, "This swimsuit flatters all figure types." This is catalog marketing code-speak for "You're not going to look like the Sta-Puff Marshmallow Man in this swimsuit. At least, not any more than usual." In a fit of optimism, I ordered one of these star-icon swimsuits, hoping against hope that the little star actually means, "This suit will turn anyone with a figure like the Pillsbury Doughboy into Catherine Zeta Jones." Really, I wish catalogs would add a little snowman icon, 'cause that's the body type I'm trying to disguise.

I also ordered several of those mix-and-match swimsuit pieces, thinking that I might just hit upon the right combination that will make me look like I spend four hours a day at the gym. Yes, I realize that this is the fashion equivalent of playing the lottery, and I know that I'm more likely to end up with a swimsuit combination that makes me look like I spend four hours a day at Dunkin' Donuts. Just let me have my little fantasy, okay?

In a few days, when my swimsuits arrive and I'm faced with the harsh reality that my new TrimSuit with Inner 4-Ply PowerNet Corset and Hydraulic Lift doesn't make me look like little Miss Size Three Bandana Swimsuit Girl, I know what to do. I'm going to blame it all that old British king George. If he hadn't taxed the poor colonists into rebellion, I'd probably be living in rainy England right now and not even need a swimsuit.

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