There comes a time in the course of human events
when it becomes necessary to chuck out the chlorine-eaten, faded and
near-transparent swimsuit and go shopping for a new one.
Sisters, is there anything more traumatic in the
world of clothes shopping than seeking new bathers? Seriously, is there ever a
time that we are more confronted by the disasters that have befallen our
figures? The extra chocolate bonbon. The decision not to take a post-prandial
walk in the evenings. The gym membership, unused. The 6 pregnancies, the last 2
when over 30 and your body just doesn’t kind of bounce back, if it ever did
before. The passage of time. The assault of gravity.
In the past few years I have found what I needed
for swimming and water aerobics in good old Target; a simple, black maillot,
or, not to be fancy, one piece swimsuit. Easy peasy. But this year the buyer
must have been replaced by a pretentious cokehead, because they have forgotten
who actually shops at Target. 20-year-old svelte models? No. Who shops at
Target if not middle-aged, middle-class Aussies with big middles? Who needs
bikinis and tankinis and other aberrations? So I was disappointed by Target.
Soon after, I found myself in Rebel Sport, only
because I was there with a daughter, and knowing I was setting myself up for
failure, I chose a few one-piece Speedo suits to try. Now, here’s where the
manufacturers really don’t get it. I took size 16, because that is actually my
size, but what I found I was trying on was size 8, kind of scaled up a few
inches here and there, but completely missing the point, which is that size 16
women have BOOBS. And a BUTT. And
we don’t want to expose either. And we want them to be supported. And the sales
girl didn’t care.
Onward! I couldn’t quit, I was too embarrassed to
wear the old swimsuit. I had to find something! So to Swimwear Galore, which is
where I should have gone in the first place. They really do carry a lot of
stock and, more important, the sales assistants are WILLING TO HELP. Do you
hear that? Not little snots who are thinking of their next smoking break or the
hot date that night, but good-natured, smiling HELPFUL staff.
The first armload of swimsuits was disappointing
though, and had me sounding like a madwoman, muttering audibly in my little
cubicle about buttfloss and boobs plastered down or popping out yada yada. So
when the assistant asked so chirpily how that went, I was very grumpy. And she
looked so sad to have disappointed me, I had to apologise. And then we looked
at the racks again. One piece. Chlorine resistant. For actual swimming, not for
lounging. Some ort of bra, but no underwire. No miracle suits. No wardrobe
malfunctions. She found me more to try on, saying that these suits were more…she
groped for the word. Supportive? Opaque? Comfortable? No… MODEST! That’s the word. Hallelujah! That’s what I want!
Coverage!
And so it was. A swimsuit model I never was and
never will be, but these bathers are Good Enough and they do the job and I look
OK. And I had a lovely swim yesterday and today.
They say that retail in Australia is dying, that
the stores are in trouble, that people are choosing to shop on-line rather than
in stores. Well, that won’t stop happening; but take heed, retailers! If your
SALES ASSISTANTS actually ASSIST the customer, you will make more SALES. And if
you lose track of your demographic, you will stock your store with things that
people don’t want. Don’t blame the internet, pals, blame yourselves.
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