Lesser of Two Evils

With cabin season in Minnesota upon us, I realized that I couldn't avoid the issue of shopping for a new swimsuit. I thought I'd have some luck at Land's End, whose website advertises the hundreds of swimsuit options and endless possibilities...unless of course you're pregnant. It had been my default swimsuit one-stop shop pre-pregnancy since it happens to sell petite sizes. Even though they sell everything from mastectomy suits to those that could accommodate the upper body of "bikini girl" from this season's American Idol, I was surprised that they don't sell maternity suits. The saleswoman, who obviously has never been pregnant, suggested I just buy a larger size. Unlike t-shirts, swimsuits need to fit properly, unless I want to relive those scarring days of middle school gym class when I forgot my swimsuit and was forced to take one from the lost and found, one that was inevitably too big. I wasn't sure if her next suggestion of checking out the kid's section was an untactful attempt at trying to find something smaller, or if seeing that there was nothing for me, wanted to drum up business on behalf of the future clientele incubating inside me.

I ended up at a nearby Motherhood Maternity store. I went in with a mission simply to find something that would fit and allow me to while away my weekends at the cabin doing a favorite activity unlikely for someone so pale - sunbathing. Fashion has always been something I indulged in just enough to keep from looking horribly out of style, but during my pregnancy, I've reduced myself to just looking presentable. So I grabbed every suit in the smallest size and disappeared into the changing room. I was dismayed to discover that the smallest size is no longer a little big on me, but almost too tight. Ugh. I reminded myself of my tall, skinny friend's story of being one size shy of "plus sizes" in maternity clothes, and tried to convince myself that the sizing of maternity clothes, like wedding dresses, must be four decades behind modern-day sizes.

I was relieved to find a tankini that would serve its purpose for the summer and wasn't flashy enough to go out of style for any future summers spent pregnant. But as I studied the swimsuit top that fell like a dress just past my hips instead of hugging my frame, it began to remind me of the swimsuits my grandmother used to wear with the built-in skirts. I began to waver and wonder if it was too old-fashioned or not stylish enough for a woman, who though she had turned 30, was hardly old. But it fit. The saleswoman asked the woman in the dressing room next to me if she found a swimsuit she liked, and she replied that she had found the lesser of two evils. As I gazed at the pile of discarded swimsuits on the bench in my dressing room, I changed out of what I decided was my least of many evils and headed over to the check-out counter.