Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Vacation Blogging

Here I am blogging at you from my vacation in Sunriver.  If that doesn't show my dedication to you people, I don't know what does.  Sunriver is a beautiful, relaxing place in the high desert of central Oregon.  There is little to do but sit in the sun, ride bikes, play golf, and lounge in the hot tub.  Each time we come here we rent a house, stock it with our every imaginable snack-food indulgence, make pot after pot of coffee and ratchet down our lives for a week.  The air is hot and smells freshly of pine.  Deer wander between the houses with their fawns bounding behind them. Sitting on the deck, the soundtrack is that of birds chattering and chirping.  Even the kids slow down here, content to color or read or run around outside in the scrubby open space behind the house.  I relax my "screen-time" restrictions with the kids so David gets a lot more Gameboy time.  If he sits outside hunched over it in the fresh air, that counts as healthy, right?

I had big plans to get my shopping done in preparation for this trip, but then I ended up sick all last week.  My main priority was to get a new bathing suit.  Like most women I know, bathing suit shopping is right up there with going to the dentist and I will put off both as long as possible.  The last two suits I bought were both from Land's End.  They make tankinis which are almost universally flattering, if somewhat utilitarian looking.  Seeing as I am, shall we say, a bit well-endowed, utilitarian is about the most I can ask for in a bathing suit.  All those suits with skinny little straps and shelf bras....if I wore one, the neckline would end up down around my waist.   If  I could find one with pneumatic lift, I'd be happy. 

I figured I'd head to Sears and pick up a new version of what I had, but instead I was writhing around on the couch staving off nausea.  I happened to pick up an Eddie Bauer catalog during one of my more lucid moments.  And there, through my feverish haze, I saw it.  A bathing suit with built in DD cups.  All thoughts of illness left me as I beheld this wonder.  I dragged myself to the computer and ordered it posthaste complete with expedited shipping.  From there I prayed it would arrive before we left town.  And Friday evening it did!  I immediately put it on.  It's a one piece made to look like a tankini.  (I believe they call it a "Fauxkini".  How many marketing meetings before they came up wth that one?  "I know!  How about Shamkini?"  )  The bottom layer is what they call their "Miracle Suit" which is code for "compress all your vital organs in the name of fashion".  Putting on the suit required many minutes of yanking and breath-holding.  And that was just to get it over my waist.  Then came the bodice, which did indeed have industrial sized cups.   You know how most bathing suits collapse into a little whisper of fabric when you take them off?   Not this one.  This one remains the exact same shape and size whether or not it is on my body.  Who knew Eddie Bauer had cornered the market on whalebone stays?  

But despite all that, it's a very flattering suit and I'm pleased as punch to have cute little straps for a change.  (If you're wondering, I got it in periwinkle.  If you're wondering if I'll post a picture of myself in it, the answer is no and you're a damn dirty pervert.)

All right, I'm outta here.  Time to brush the bugs off the keyboard and go inside for a snack.


hallcjm said...

ahhhhh, sounds like a grand vacation. The suit sounds interesting, but I may just have to explore one for myself.

momdeplume said...

Ya know, in my younger days, we all wore girdles with stockings.  Said girdles also compressed all one's vital organs, causing diverticulitis, ruptured spleens and unending indigestion.  When we got really dressed up, we wore Merry Widows in order to go strapless.  These devices from hell compressed your waist to about 18 inches and pushed your cleavage up (sort of under your chin, but perpendicularly shelf-like) and your tummy down, so that your hips became about a size 58.  When you took the damn thing off, your body would sproing back to its former configuration, only tired-er and imprinted with the whalebones, and suddenly you would realize that you had not taken a deep breath for the better part of 6 hours!

mazeway said...

Don't you find that all that compressed fat just shoots out the leg holes?  Or maybe it's just me that's grotesque.  My new discovery this year was that Athleta (how did I, of all people, end up on an atheletic wear mailing list?) built-in bra cami's are a perfectly bathing suit like fabric.  DD!  And a tankini is born!