I won’t share it, but you can probably imagine.
This is not to say that I begrudge anyone else wearing one, however. And I love swimwear, I really do. Well, not this:
And definitely this:
See a pattern here? I know I’ve gone completely geezer, and I’m aware that we live in a “more skin showing, the better” beachwear world. Yet, I stand my ground. No one can tell me that photo #1 is somehow more beautiful than numbers 2, 3 and 4. Those who disagree are certainly entitled, but in my book, a classic, iconic swimsuit look (on others, of course) beats the carp out of a “what’s the point of wearing anything at all?” bikini any day.
Then there’s the issue of people wearing bikinis who perhaps ought to stay with the Lucille Ball-Marilyn Monroe-Liz Taylor look. But that’s none of my business, although I have been known, admittedly, to snark about the issue.
It’s true that looks do not and should not define or validate our humanity; our “person-ness.” But it’s also true that society (specifically, entertainment media) has made healthy body image a difficult ring to grasp, especially for young girls, for whom a few extra pounds can mean ridicule and social separation. I don’t know a single girl in my middle school and high school who wouldn’t die a hundred deaths inside at being called “fat.” I think they’d rather be called “stupid,” truly. Anything but the F-word. It breaks my heart to see it.
But hey, all the wimmins who read RtB are beautiful, inside and out. And it’s the inside beauty that matters. Funny how we know something in our heads, but…
Yeah, enough waxing philosophical for one morning. I’ve been up since 4:00, and it’s almost time for Justin to sit up in his bed and say, “Graaaaaaam-eeeeeeeeee.”
Definitely a coffee morning.