Guess what I got to do last
week? After the eggnog, cookies, hors
d’oeuvres, turkey, ham, wine and gingerbread, I went shopping for a bathing
suit. I don’t know too many middle-aged
women who enjoy bathing suit shopping at any time of year. But when the holiday
over-indulgence chickens have come home to roost – on my hips and thighs
--bathing suit shopping is the last thing on my list. OK – maybe not the last – but it’s a close
third. Right behind pap smears and
mammograms.
I shouldn’t complain. (But I will.) As you may have guessed, I need
this bathing suit because I’m going somewhere warm and sunny. My husband and I are heading down to Panama
for three weeks. The last time we were
there, I left my favorite bathing suit behind.
I wasn’t too sad because while it was comfortable, it wasn’t very
flattering and I had had it for a long time. No love lost there. My other bathing suit was bought hurriedly before
our last trip. It was one of those “look
instantly ten pounds thinner” suits – the kind that is all crinkled up in front
as an attempt at optical illusion. But
it feels like what I imagine a corset must have felt like. It’s hard to breathe deeply and I
periodically get lightheaded if I don’t concentrate on getting enough
oxygen. If I fall asleep with it on, I
have nightmares involving boa constrictors and being buried alive. Although my
waist does look smaller, my head and legs look huge because the excess flesh is
forced out either side of the suit – like one of those balls you squeeze to
reduce stress. The ten pounds are merely
redistributed. I am tempted to reach for
a pair of scissors when it’s time to take that sucker off. When, exhausted, I have finally peeled myself
out of it, I feel such relief – probably the way poppin’ fresh dough feels
right after it’s rapped against the counter.
In other words, I don’t like that suit at all.
They say that styles return. I have longed for my grandmother’s era
bathing costumes to come back into fashion – but I didn’t think it would happen
before we had to leave so, alas and alack, the deed had to be done. Having
recently lost 15 pounds I was even a little curious to see how this spree would
go. Maybe it wouldn’t be as painful as
the last time.
I headed up to Northgate. First
stop, Nordstrom. I thought I’d see what
the other half wears on the beach and then see if they had the same thing or
something similar at Ross or Target. Who
knows, I thought, maybe I’d find a suit that I liked there and even if it was a
tad on the pricey side, if it made me look and feel good, well, I could find a
way to justify the expense.
After longingly eyeing the moo moos
and maternity clothes, I headed for “Active Wear” and perused the sparse racks,
avoiding anything that was crinkled in front. (Fooled me once – not going there
again.) I found a few that looked
possible and tried them on. Not great,
but not bad. I was mildly
encouraged. Then I found it. A beautiful greenish gold, simply cut, modest
yet sexy, feminine, classic suit. And it
fit. And it looked good.
Unbelievable! Could this be it? Could I have found a suit on the first
try? I reached for the price tag,
fingers crossed, but the price was missing. The sales assistant came back to
check on me (I love that. It doesn’t happen in the stores I normally shop in.)
I asked her if she could find the price for me.
“Of course,” she said pleasantly.
Behind the closed door, I choked back tears of gratitude. I tried on a few other suits while waiting
but they didn’t compare. Two light raps on my dressing room door and then the
words: “One hundred and seventy eight
dollars.” Wha wha wha…. The bubble burst. This is NORDSTROM, Irene, and this is what it
costs to look good in a bathing suit in your mid-50’s. But there is no way I can rationalize
spending that kind of money on the tiniest item of clothing in my wardrobe.
After considering the possibility
that you have to be rich – or 20 - to look good in a bathing suit, I let it
go. Not meant to be. I went back out for
one last look around before heading to the discount stores.
Standing next to me I noticed a
woman roughly my age, admiring a suit on the adjacent rack. “Oooh this is so cute,” she said. We smiled at each other in recognition --
like two people traveling in a foreign country discovering they speak the same
language. “It wouldn’t look the same on
as it does off, though,” she said. “I know what you mean,” I agreed, “I keep
forgetting that I don’t have that body anymore.” We both laughed and continued
looking at the suits. Suddenly, she stopped, looked right at me and said, “But you know, I have come to realize that I
am a really interesting, strong, beautiful woman and I would trade that body
any day for what I am now.”
We talked about the way we were in
our 20’s. We both thought we were fat
and were hypercritical of ourselves back then.
We had no idea what was coming and so we couldn’t – or didn’t - enjoy
what we had. How could we know that in
our 50’s we would look at pictures of ourselves in our 20’s and discover, too
late, that we were babes! Beauties! Just think when we are in our 80’s what we
will say about our 50-year-old selves.
We will see youth and beauty. We
will, once again, wonder why we were so down on ourselves when we looked so
good.
Christiana Northrup, in her book, Women’s
Bodies, Women’s Wisdom, writes that women between 49 and 55 experience
hormonal balance once again, freeing them to pursue creative interests and social
action. “These are the years when all of
a woman’s life experience comes together and can be used for a purpose that
suits her and at the same time serves others.”
In spite of the media and pharmaceutical companies’ efforts to depict
menopause as a dry wasteland – the end of the road -- Northrup points out that
during menopause, women discover a “deeper and freer experience of self.” In Celtic cultures, menopausal women were
believed to “retain their wise blood,” ceasing the constant ebb and flow of cycles
and thereby becoming more powerful than younger women. It was only after menopause that a woman
could become a shaman. In Native
cultures, menopausal women were “the voice of responsibility towards all
children, both human and nonhuman…unafraid to say a strong no to anything that
did not serve life.” These women were
looked to by their younger counterparts for education and initiation into this
knowledge and responsibility.
Bathing suits aside, my new friend
and I agreed that we are right where we want to be.
Yeah – we’re really good. Right now.
And it’s only gonna get better.
We high-fived each other and moved on.
Her to who knows where, me to Ross where, by the way, I found two
fabulous suits that looked great and cost under $50 – total.
(originally published winter of 2012)
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