One little, two little, three little bathing suits...
I finished my bathing suit last night, sitting inside my warmer-than-a-furnace apartment, hunched over my Viking Husquvarna. I had to count on one hand how many times I've made this particular pattern. Each time the suits have gotten better. The first one had lots of ripped stitches because I didn't know you need to use the three-step zig zag to adhere the elastic. The second one? The elastic was all wiggly like wayward electrical wiring and incredibly difficult to get on...probably because the final stitching was on top of that aforementioned rubber. That suit, a lavender number, was incredibly to difficult to get on. I had a do a little shimmy to squeeze my hips through the unforgiving neckline.
The latest production? The top-stitching isn't quite what you'd find on a Speedo. It wavers, even stalls at various points on the suit, resembling Mapquest directions gone awry. I don't care - I've got a Free bathing suit (yes, all the Spandex came from a friend who knows how much I enjoy water pilates and sewing, not at the same time, obviously). Next time the finishing will be even better. My goal is to have at least three different suits, one for each of the three days I hop into the swimming pool. The polka-dot number could be for when I'm feeling really dotty (which is quite often. I'm what they would call Eccentric back in the old days.). I could make a sky-blue one for those times when I'm feeling a little under the weather (but not enough to skip a refreshing dip), and then a sparkly plush purple version for when I need to remind myself that people need to treat me like the Royal Queen that I am.
Here's the way I look at it: We all have our favorite outfits - the red suit for interviews, white linen separates for weddings or the black dress for dinners with colleagues. Why should it be any different for work-outs? I'll be darned if I'm going to show up in the same lame, saggy suit when I have a cardbox full of stretchy fabrics just begging to be transformed into something that Esther Williams would wear.
As soon as I finished no. 3 I popped her (yes, she's a girl. Know any dotted suits for men?) into my work out bag and I tossed no. 2 into the garbage. It felt so good. I wore my third work of art into the waters today. No one, not even a lifeguard, has taken notice yet, but they will, I promise. And I'll report right here. Have you ever tossed a swim suit that's gone bad?