I had two bathing suits, appropriate for a "mature" woman. Then disaster struck. The better suit developed a definite transparency in the backside that gave a disturbing view of doughy flesh. The second, I thought, was okay. Then my kids asked why I was wearing a bathing suit that had no elastic around the legs and "bum". Why, indeed? After a certain age, you avoid mirrors offering a view of your rearend that shatters any illusions of 'nice buns.'
I had to replace those suits. Sometimes my five-year-old grandson and I go to the pool. I don't want to scar him for life so it's off bathing suit shopping.
If you are squeamish, you might want to stop reading. Some parts just go south once you reach a certain age. They get bigger or saggier or mis-shapen. For me, it's big boobs, forget perky, and a butt that has fallen off. My waist, never small, is mostly imagination. And bathing suits are not designed with those particular figure flaws in mind.
I have nothing against little skirts on swim wear...just for other women. They don't match the admittedly idealized memory I have of myself in bathing suits past. And I don't mean a bikini, I just mean a nice one piece that looked relatively good.
Finally I go shopping and find three possibilities. Off the rack and into the change room. Struggle, wiggle and pull the first one into place. Oh, my. Cleavage (doughy) do runneth over. The second choice is meant for someone a lot taller and with a longer body than mine. The third, sigh. As good as it's going to get. A nice modest black maillot, not cut high, discreet purple band across the midsection. I buy it.
I show it to my husband and he says with way more enthusiasm than he should, "It'll match my new trunks. The ones I bought in Moose Jaw."
I detest matching outfits of any kind for couples.
I've been married a long time and often write about everyday events.