----- Original Message ----- From: Naomi U Rowland To: LBooth@netcarrier.com Cc: ESims2@advanta.com ; nursenuke@webtv.net ; Packspence@aol.com ; lgmadden@netcarrier.com ; no'donnell@advanta.com Sent: Friday, May 18, 2001 4:30 AM Subject: Fw: Bathing Suits for Women CHOOSING A NEW BATHING SUIT > > Apparently a true e-mail a woman wrote to her friend after shopping for > a bathing suit. > > I have just been through the annual pilgrimage of torture and > humiliation known as buying a bathing suit. When I was a child in the > 1950s,the > bathing suit for a woman with a mature figure was designed for a woman > with a > mature figure - boned, trussed and reinforced, not so much sewn as > engineered. > They were built to hold back and uplift and they did a good job. Today's > stretch fabrics are designed for the pre-pubescent girl with a figure > carved > from a potato chip. The mature woman has a choice - she can either front > up at > the maternity department and try on a floral suit with a skirt, coming > away > looking like a hippopotamus who escaped from Disney's Fantasia - or she > can wander around every run-of-the-mill department store trying to make a > sensible choice from what amounts to a designer range of fluorescent > rubberbands. > > What choice did I have? I wandered around, made my sensible choice and > entered the chamber of horrors known as the fitting room. The first > thing I noticed was the extraordinary tensile strength of the stretch > material. > The Lycra used in bathing costumes was developed, I believe, by NASA to > launch small rockets from a slingshot, which give the added bonus that if > you > manage to actually lever yourself into one, you are protected from shark > attacks. The reason for this is that any shark taking a swipe at your > passing midriff would immediately suffer whiplash. > > I fought my way into the bathing suit, but as I twanged the shoulder > strap in place, I gasped in horror - my bosom had disappeared! > Eventually, I > found one bosom cowering under my left armpit. It took a while to find > the other. At last I located it flattened beside my seventh rib. The > problem > is that modern bathing suits have no bra cups. The mature woman is meant > to wear her bosom spread across her chest like a speed hump. I realigned > my > speed hump and lurched toward the mirror to take a full view assessment. > > The bathing suit fit all right, but unfortunately, it only fit those > bits of me willing to stay inside it. The rest of me oozed out > rebelliously from > top, bottom, and sides. I looked like a lump of playdough wearing > undersized cling wrap. As I tried to work out where all those extra bits > had come > from, the pre-pubescent sales girl popped her head through the curtains, > "Oh, > there you are!" she said, admiring the bathing suit...I replied that I > wasn't > so sure and asked what else she had to show me. > > I tried on a cream crinkled one that made me look like a lump of masking > tape, and a floral two piece which gave the appearance of an oversized > napkin in a serviette ring. I struggled into a pair of leopard skin > bathers with ragged frill and came out looking like Tarzan's Jane pregnant > with triplets and having a rough day. I tried on a black number with a > midriff and looked like a jellyfish in mourning. I tried on a bright > pink pair with such a high cut leg I thought I would have to wax my > eyebrows > to wear them. > > Finally, I found a suit that fitted...a two piece affair with > shorts-style bottom and a loose blouse-type top. It was cheap, > comfortable, and bulge > friendly, so I bought it. When I got home, I read the label which said > "Material may become transparent in water." I'm determined to wear > it anyway.....I'll just have to learn to do the breaststroke in the > sand. >