A Safari Of Sorts
Posted by Sherry , Tuesday, June 15, 2010 Tuesday, June 15, 2010
As I waddle around Myrtle Beach in my JCPenny tankini (more on why I am wearing a $14.99 old lady fat-squisher-outer and not my ultra-flattering, SPECIAL ORDERED miracle-working swimsuits later) I find myself searching here, there and everywhere for my Band.
Are you there Leona? Or are you too busy forging tax documents to be bothered with helping the little people?
As a tourist here in the Redneck Riviera I have stumbled upon such lovely items as Golden Oreos, meat-monster pizza, bacon cheeseburgers, 36 oz. margaritas, ice cream cones called “Birthday Cake Carnival” that come in a cup the size of a 2 year old's head and fuzzy navel wine coolers. And let us not forget -- the most beautiful mullets I've ever seen (one Kentucky Waterfall in particular was so beautiful it almost brought me to my knees). Yet, for all these fantastic pieces of American culture I have found, my Band remains elusive.
I don't remember leaving it at home but then again my husband packed the car and if Leona is stashed away in the big white and blue beach bag that contained ALL OF MY SPECIAL ORDERED SWIMSUITS (not to mention Ruby's adorable boutique swimwear, waters-shoes and swim diapers) then, well, it is probably still sitting in the foyer next to the garage door.
Now, as most of my fine readers are or have at one time been 'big girls' I feel I can safely assume that you indeed empathized (perhaps you even gasped in horror) when I told you that upon arriving at our lovely beach-side hotel, I found that in fact I was sans ANY SWIMSUIT OF ANY KIND. At the beach. Hours and hours from home. Without a swimsuit. Over a size 14.
Now, for a 'normal' sized girl, a forgotten swimsuit whilst on a beach vacation is perhaps worth some frustration. Perhaps even an hour or two of whining. But for those of us that shop in the big girls section some, if not all of the time? Well, THIS IS A TRAGEDY.
Ladies and gentlemen, I seriously cannot think of a worse vacation mishap. Jellyfish sting? Pee on it! Lost credit card? Use your debit! Broken flip-flop? Duct tape! Lost contact? Put a patch over your eye!
But a “big girl” has forgotten her swimsuit? Folks, we've got a jumper!
A big girl can't just walk into any old store and pick up a swimsuit. We have to try on hundreds if not thousands of them. We have to find something that covers the lumps and the bumps. And if we're under 75? Well, we'd prefer to find something that ISN'T pink and metallic gold hibiscus flowers with a granny panty bottom and ruffle around the middle (because that's JUST what we need as big girls! We need MORE FABRIC around our waist line! Thank you SO VERY MUCH fashion industry!) But surprisingly, its freakin' HARD to find a plain ol' black swimsuit that covers your lady bits when you are over a size 14. You have to special order them and pay $120! Which I did!....and it is sitting at home, mocking me as we speak.
So much to my dismay I'm donning a black and white tankini top- the VERY LAST size 18-carried in the “Everyday Woman” section of a JCPenny located in a local mall that has two other stores: one that sells fake flower arrangements and one that sells airbrushed t-shirts that say "I'm with Stupid" and beer koozies. From the outside this mall actually looks like it is frowning. Sad, sad mall.
That said, I'm happy that I was able to find something that fits and I'm trying to 'rock it' as best I can. But I would be lying if I didn't tell you that it makes me look just a tad like an overweight safari animal.
"Look kids! Its a zebra! On the beach! Wearing broken pink flip flops! With a patch over one eye! Quick honey, get the camera!"
The good news? The bottoms are just a regular old XL. From the LADIES section. I guess this zebra's ass is finally shrinking!
My heart breaks for you!! I am, however, relieved to hear that you found the softer side of Sears...or JC Penny...or whomever you are wearing. I hope there are pictures. I also want pictures of the "I'm With Stupid" t-shirt that I assume you must have purchased so you could spend the trip standing next to your hubs wearing it.
And I think the term "beer koozie" sounds very dirty. No?