I walked aimlessly down the aisles with my mom. I was bathing suit shopping. I hate to shop. Mostly because I hate my abnormal body. Nothing would fit. I had long since outgrown the trendy Juniors section of the store the other skinny shapeless girls my age shopped at and had been demoted to the Womens Section. Ugh. Mom jeans & non-flattering floral printed suits were lined up for me. Vomit.
"This isn't so bad," my mom said holding out a pale pink one piece with magenta roses. Into the cart went the suit, along with my dreams of being Homecoming Queen. My mom picked up on my dissatisfied glares at the article and point blank asked, "What are you looking for then?"
Something youthful, something bright, something thats not cut to make me look like I have recently given birth. But I shrugged and agreed to try it on. Along with the navy blue textured disaster & the black death.
"I promise they'll look better once you put them on."
They weren't any better. My boobs sat in the wimpy padded spots with no lift & my girl shoulders couldn't keep the long straps from slipping down my arms & possibly allowing for a flashing at the pool. But we agreed to sew the straps & settled on the pink. I hate shopping.