Two catalogs arrived in the mail the other day. Well, there were two that I was interested in. Apparently the people who used to live here had quite the mail order habit. My favorite was the one with the XL Lawn Chair featured on the front cover with the words "HOLDS 450 POUNDS!" printed next to it. What will they think of next?
Anyway, the two catalogs I was interested in (though a lawn chair that could hold my entire family WOULD be kind of nice to have) were the highly disparate JCrew and Lands End. You see, I am in the market for a new swimsuit to accommodate what I am hoping is a temporary situation called Third Baby Kangaroo Tummy. Also? I sort of flashed the whole neighborhood last summer when the teeny string holding up the top of my old JCrew one-piece experienced a structural failure while I was trying to swim laps. Something with a little more integrity was in order.
My friend A raved about Lands End suits about a month ago when we were reminiscing shopping for swimsuits together in grad school and our mutual complaint that most of the offerings at Target required you to choose whether you would rather show way too much butt or way too much boob (boob all the way for me, but it depends on your figure). She said that not only are they long enough to cover everything, they are also made of heavy fabric that holds everything in. Winning!
So I paged through Lands End while the kiddies watched some PBS Kids and quickly found several-hundred dollars worth of sensible mom clothing that I wanted to buy (but did not) in addition to several good swimsuit offerings.
"Oh, look at that flattering swim skirt," I thought. "So-and-so wore one of those last year and it looked really nice."
"Oh, and I could also get a rash guard shirt! A skirt and a shirt! It's what I wear EVERY DAY! Perfect!"
But then I remembered that I am supposed to be playing up my best feature, which at the moment means as little fabric as possible above the waist. James is more than happy to help me with that goal every three waking hours and four at night, but since I should probably cover up at least a little at the pool I found a few sensible options before turning to the JCrew catalog to peruse their offerings.
You guys. The monologue in my head sounded *exactly* like Dana Carvey's "Church Lady" ("Look at me, Mommy, I'm a sugar slut in a devil's mask!"). And it has nothing to do with jealousy or the fact that there is no freaking way I'll ever be able to buy a swim suit there again, between the high prices and the teeny tiny bikinis and the absurd impracticality of gold sequins on a SWIM SUIT. And then I got up to make some brownies and roast a chicken. And stepped on a little pirate figurine on the way to the kitchen. And said "OH SHOWER" instead of the other word that starts with "SH".
So yeah, JCrew's days are over for me. I blame the kids. But I think I'm really going to like swimming fully clothed.