Posted by Duff

To save myself a little time and fluorescent lighting, I ordered a bathing suit online.  I also ordered one for The Dervish. She had her choice of 15.

She chose this one, from Old Navy:

It was that easy for her. She looked, saw one she thought was pretty, and when it arrived, it didn’t just fit, it looked adorable. The bottom ruffles puffed out, just so, like a the ring around Saturn. She was–and still is– psyched. She wears it all the time.

Her mother wasn’t so lucky. Having chosen a style that’s supposed to be flattering to small-chested women (sigh), having a good idea of my size now that, after a year, I lost my second round of baby weight, I should have been all set.

Except.

The girls have gotten even smaller, ladies. How does that even happen? I’m talking you could have poked at the cups and inverted them, and never touched me. And the boy shorts that were supposed to hide the fact that I rarely stair climb? Somehow, they helped the top point out the empty cups. And if the bathing suit wasn’t going to trash me, I was going to be my own anti-publicist. .

Does anyone remember how it felt to point and choose a bathing suit and strut around in it like a miniature supermodel? I’m not talking about when you were 19. I don’t even want to think about that. I’m talking about being teeny tiny in height, not hip spread. When the playing field was level, and we were all flat chested.

Mine was yellow, featuring a cheerful bumble bee with rosy cheeks.

Let’s just say, this summer, I’ll be living vicariously through The Dervish. I’m sending my suit back, and getting another for my daughter, who could stand proudly in front of the mirror all the livelong day.

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